MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “Friday Fictioneers”

Work (a) fortune

fatima-fakier-deria1

©Fatima Fakier Deria

You should be as lucky to work at the docks”.

It was something he heard his uncle constantly say, whenever he saw him once or twice annually. As a young boy he looked up to his favourite relative because he would always have an interesting story to say. Rather a bunch of them. He made life seem so spectacular, so adventurous, so….worth living.

But it was only when he grew up and actually got a job supervising the deliveries of a container ship that he finally understood what his uncle meant.

Life at the docks was different. It was simply…more.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers.

Also part of Daily Prompt: Fortune

The forgotten mansion

gateway-jhardy

©J Hardy Carroll

It was this time of year a few years ago when the mansion’s garden sprung to life as the flowers and tress bloomed, splashing the entire neighbourhood in colour and granting surrounding residents with a sense of renewed optimism.

The silver gate gleamed in the sunlight, and was almost always open, welcoming guests into this “hint of paradise”.

But then it happened. As if a dark cloud settled over the mansion; everything crumbled. The garden was abandoned in sorrow, and the gate was closed.

The mansion was now left deserted, with only the memory of the life that once was.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Do something more

lucy-sol

©Lucy Fridkin

“Do something every day that scares you”. Her grandmother’s prompt echoed in her ears every time she felt her heart grow sore with exhaustion. She needed a change. Routine was turning out to be lethal after all.

She woke up determined to take that extra step. So that day she went to the café with a view to the port.

It was cloudy, but ships were sailing.

She had time if she really wanted to do it.

She connected to the Wi-Fi and loaded the website. Tickets were booked in less than a minute.

She would finally go to him.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The chain-locked door

ceayr-purple-door

©CEayr

They hadn’t walked too far when they reached a purple door. It was too modern to fit in with the rest of the historic edifice they had spent the past two hours exploring.

Why do you think it’s chain-locked?” she asked, curiosity mounting up inside her.

“Who knows, maybe they don’t want nosy-parkers trying to open it,” he replied playfully.

Now she was even more intrigued. What could be hidden behind such a door, almost indented on the outer castle periphery?

She stepped over the chain and pulled the door open.

I told you not to do that,” he squealed.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

An unexpected gift

bjorn-rudberg

© Björn Rudberg

For days, sorrow covered her heart like a dark cloud. She never expected it to break, snapping like a feeble twig. Her wooden cello was all she had left from her beloved grandfather. He was the one who had taught her to play and to allow music to soothe her soul. She felt closer to him whenever she plucked those strings.

But now it was gone and with it she feared his memory would also fade.

At church that night she longed for solace. But instead she found something more: a new cello, waiting for her to play a melody.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

 

Drafting sorcery

claire-fuller-8

©Claire Fuller

Jack was in a hurry. Rather, he was in a tremendous rush, overtaking other pedestrians like a formula one car drafting its competition. He had only four hours to find all the ingredients on the sorcerer’s list. But where would he find corals from seas with turquoise waters and white sand, leaves from ever-blooming trees, and centuries-old wood bark untouched by fire, along with a line of other equally rare paraphernalia?

It was a seemingly unattainable mission – his only hope of reviving Selina, of waking her up from the coma. He had promised her he wouldn’t let go. Ever.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The secret within

from-amy-reese

©Amy Reese

As he hurried hastily down the white hallway, his mind wandered behind every tightly shut door he passed by. The corridor displayed a deceivingly innocent façade, emitting a hospital-like severity. The silence that swept through it made every movement reverberate at decibels ten times higher than normal. He found himself almost tiptoeing so as to minimise the noise. But he had to hurry. He was expected at the end of the line of doors.

As yet, he did not know what to anticipate. But the telephone call told him to arrive there and come alone.

He was forced to obey.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Also part of Daily Prompt: Façade

The waiting machine

crook2

©Sandra Crook

It stood there, in the corner of the room gathering dust. Its glimmering black had faded, as rust consumed its interior. It remained exactly as it was left, 75 years ago. Waiting to finish the job it had started.

The old sewing machine was Martha’s prized possession. She had been the first in town to possess one, and people would travel for miles to have their outfits sewn on that very machine. That’s how Martha met Spencer.

The day he went off to war, she began sewing a dress to greet him with on his return. It was never finished.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The rusty boat

boatpilxr_-antiqued

©Georgia Koch

It was left stranded by the lake. A wooden boat, which once hosted their dreams of a life together. It had been the seat of their soft embraces, their loud laughs and their endless conversations. Now all that was left was a reminder of what could have once been.

Constantine could not bear to let it go. He knew it was worse having it there, a daily reminder of her, knowing she would never return. But he simply could not part with it. He preferred the pain of remembrance than forgetting that he once had touched upon his heart’s desire.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Boardwalk to happiness

adamickes-boardwalk

© Adam Ickes

Grandpa once told me that whatever road you take, make sure it makes you happy. He was quick to add that it would never be long if it led to the person and place you loved.”

Grace’s eyes filled with tears as she recalled the memory.

It’s only now that I realise what he meant,” she said stifling a sob.  “I’m not sad. Really. I’m actually happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve said that”.

She stared at the wooden boardwalk and her eyes lit up. Mike was waiting for her at the red-roofed pavilion on the other end.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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