The Messenger - Sunday Photo Fiction

This is my first Sunday Photo Fiction post and I love having an excuse to keep writing. Sunday Photo Fiction is a flash fiction written around 100 - 200 words around a weekly photo prompt. I would love comments and constructive critiques. Thank you so much for stopping by and if you would love to join the Sunday Photo Fiction or read other amazing stories, go here.

“Are they messenger pigeons?”

I glanced at my young niece, Abby, then up at the line of fat pigeons sitting on the edge of the fencing. “Not these pigeons, honey.” I remarked, “Their only job is making messes.”

Abby cocked her head, studying one of the pigeons that took the initiative to fly to a nearby tree. The bird was different from the others. Oddly, it appeared to be listening to our conversation.

“Mama said pigeons carried messages from one person to another.” Abby’s gaze never leaving the pigeon, “and she said she was going to send me a message.”

I thought of my late sister and worried about the promise given to her only child. “Maybe she is super busy in Heaven with so many people to see.”

Just then the pigeon flew down from the tree and landed on the bench beside Abby. The little bird looked up expectantly and dropped a small cylinder case from its claw, squawked and flew away.

Abby picked it up and pulled a slip of paper from the case – and read:

“Dearest Abby, I made it to heaven and it is beautiful. Love always, Mama.”

Alley

It's Friday Fictioneer time! I always look forward to this day, to exercise my brain and create a story with only 100 words or less. This time I made it to 97 words. (Horray!) I want to thank Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the Friday Fictioneers. Thank you! I would love any comments and helpful critiques are welcomed!

The cart connected hard against the stone ramp, jarring the bolts of fabrics and potteries that filled it. My mule tossed his head and stood stubbornly, refusing to move.

“I can’t be late” I muttered, grasping the lead from my mule, urging to hurry so I wouldn’t lose my preferred spot in the market square…

“Matt, are you alright?”

I looked up into Angie’s concerned face, then back to the empty alleyway. I clutched the camera strap tightly in my hand.

“Yeah,” I said, looking down at the ancient grey stone, “I just had a déjà vu.”

(Word count: 97)



This story actually came from personal experiences. I had a few dreams of places I have never been, doing things that I have never done - yet it felt so familiar to me - then I would wake up in the middle of a deja vu. When I saw the stone floor in the picture, it reminded me of the stones in one of my deja vu dreams. Hence, my story. :)

Stone

All I can say is wow! I am surprised that I was able to come up with something for this very interesting photo prompt. I had the story up to 121 words, but could only get it down to 101 without changing the flow of the story itself. Here is my offering for this week's Friday Fictioneer. I would love constructive criticism and comments. Thank you!

The stoic stone face stared out over city hall, leaving Georgie gawking slack-jawed at it as if in a staring contest.

“What are you doing?” his older sister, Amanda, demanded.  She was perturbed that her mother forced her to fetch her wayward sibling.

“He blinked!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise.

“What?” Amanda looked up and saw the stone head staring blankly ahead. “It’s a statue, dumb-dumb! Don’t you know what statues are?!”

She grabbed her little brother’s hand, dragging him inside as he continued to howl, “He did blink, Amanda, he did!!”

The statue continued to stare – and smiled.