Friday Fictioneers: What’s In The Box?

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who provides us with a photo prompt. Each week’s challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by the photo. Click here to play along or just read more stories.


What’s In The Box?

Johnny returned home from another day of canvassing the neighborhood. His Irish Setter, Rex, had been missing for three days now. On his way in, he picked up a box lying outside the gate.

“Any luck?” asked Amy.


“What’s in the box?”

“I don’t know. I assumed you ordered something. It is an Amazon box.”

“I didn’t order anything.”

“That proves miracles are possible. Maybe we will find Rexy.”

“Open it. I wanna see.”

Johnny opened the box and stared into Rex’s lifeless eye. The note pinned to his ear read, “Tell your father hello. – Carmine.”


You don’t kill the dog, you asshole. I don’t know why my mind went there. Probably because that’s the most horrific thing I can imagine. I’d go John Wick on a motherfucker. I did a little John Wick/Se7en combo on this one. Every time I see a box, my first thought is, “What’s in the box? What’s in the box?”

This is a sequel to It’s Cold from a while ago. I knew there had to be a head or a bomb in the box and the easiest way to build up a backstory in 100 words or less was to use a preexisting story. I briefly considered referencing Andy Samberg and Justin Timberlake’s “Dick In A Box” song/sketch from SNL, but that seemed inappropriate. That’s the society we’ve created. Ultraviolence is fine. Sexuality is… Whoa! That’s a no-no.

Friday Fictioneers: It’s Cold

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who provides us with a photo prompt. Each week’s challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by the photo. Click here to play along.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

It’s Cold

Luigi watched as Carmine laughed with his family. It had been 20 years, but Luigi would never forget that face, that night. Did Carmine remember?

“Good evening. I’m Luigi. How is everything tonight?”

“Excellent,” said Carmine.

“It’s cold,” said the girl, with a little cough. His daughter. She was about 6, the same age Luigi’s daughter was.

The boy, a little older, had the same complaint.

“Mine, too,” said the gorgeous blonde. Carmine’s trophy wife. Pregnant.

“Mine’s steaming,” said Carmine.

“I can’t breathe so good,” said the blonde.

“Their’s are supposed to be cold. It’s a dish I call revenge.”

Friday Fictioneers: I Remember

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who provides us with a photo prompt. Each week’s challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by the photo.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot


Click the picture of Kermit and God to see more stories or add your own.

I Remember

My mother wanted to name me Susan. My father, Steven. Neither would happen.

I was taken from my parents shortly following my birth. I never saw them again.

I was brought to this building. This is where they did the experiments. Not in the building but deep beneath it.

I escaped during the purge. I was one of the few. I escaped but only physically.

I remember everything… everything with a clarity only rivaled by what one sees with one’s eyes.

I am SG9783210. I will stop them. I will have my revenge because I remember. I remember everything.


I hope this doesn’t come out too much like the opening monologue for a crappy ’80s show:

“In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn’t commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum-security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune.

If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire…

… The A-Team.”

“Dr. David Banner: physician; scientist. Searching for a way to tap into the hidden strengths that all humans have. Then an accidental overdose of gamma radiation interacts with his unique body chemistry. And now when David Banner grows angry or outraged, a startling metamorphosis occurs. The creature is driven by rage and pursued by an investigative reporter. [Banner:] “Mr. McGee, don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” An accidental explosion took the life of a fellow scientist and supposedly David Banner as well. The reporter thinks the creature was responsible. [McGee:] “I gave a description to all the law enforcement agencies; they got a warrant for murder out on him.” A murder which David Banner can never prove he or the creature didn’t commit. So he must let the world go on thinking that he, too, is dead, until he can find a way to control the raging spirit that dwells within him.”

“Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Doctor Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap accelerator and vanished… He woke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Doctor Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap will be the leap home…”

Friday Fictioneers: T For Tea

It’s Wednesday again, which means it’s time for Friday Fictioneers. It’s always Friday somewhere, right? Not on Earth, but somewhere, somewhere out there among the stars it’s Friday. Hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields,each week’s challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by the following photo prompt.

PHOTO PROMPT © Valerie J. Barrett

T For Tea

“Fancy a spot of tea?” Brian asked.

“That was the worst English accent I have ever heard,” Jessica said.




“I hope your tea is better than your accent.”

“It is. Here. Careful, it’s hot.”

Jessica blew gently on her tea, then carefully sipped. “Mmm… It’s sweet, but there’s something a little tart. Wha…” She grabbed at her throat.

“Remember that time, 30 seconds ago, when you made fun of my English accent?”

Jessica only managed a gurgle in response.

“I’ve been planning my revenge ever since,” Brian cackled through his pseudo-English accent. “At last, vengeance is mine!”


I could not think of a reason for Brian to kill Jessica that wasn’t cliché, cheating, embezzling, he found out she was secretly his long-lost sister… I came up with one where she cheated at a game of Monopoly three years ago, and he’s been carefully plotting his revenge. It made me laugh. Then, I decide to just go the full absurd and do a call-back to the accent joke. I was a little concerned that not everybody would remember that from the very beginning of the story but decided to take my chances.

Flash Fiction: Long Live The King

This was written for Carrot Ranch’s Flash Fiction Challenge. Each week’s challenge is to write to a prompt in exactly 99 words. This week’s prompt is eminence.

Long Live The King

His rise to eminence was halted by my hand. He wasn’t hard to find. Everybody in town knew where he hung out.

I pulled out the gun I took from dad’s nightstand and pointed it at him.

“Whoa! What are gonna do with that, little man?”

“I’m gonna be 10 next month.”

“All right, big man. Put it down before you hurt somebody.”

He reached for it, and I pulled the trigger. The kick knocked me down. The bullet knocked him down.

He was the only person I ever killed. My sister was the last his drugs would kill.

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