I’ve done Friday Fictioneers on other blogs before, and then stopped when I switched blogs or just didn’t feel like doing it anymore. Basically you write a short fiction of 100 words based on a weekly prompt. Now I’ve decided to pick it back up but there’s apparently a new system of posting links? It required me to sign up and all that so I didn’t bother with it last week. But I did write an entry, so I’m just going to post it here all by my lonesome. I’ll try to do it properly this upcoming week, but no promises.
And like I said, it’s been a while, so I may be very, very rusty.
A Prickly Narrator
I found a box of old photographs at my neighbor’s yardsale. “It’s not for sale,” she explained, “but sure makes a pretty centerpiece, no?” I’d only spoken with her a handful of times, so who am I to judge what she deemed as appropriate deco?
“Lemonade?” she offered me, and I said sure. It was too sweet, but I didn’t complain, only looked at the collection of knickknacks that littered her lawn. Compared to those the photographs were practicaly pristine, the only things worth any value.
“It’s not for sale,” she insisted. That just made me want to ask more.