PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
After the bomb exploded, bodies were strewn everywhere. Teams moved quickly to remove the dead, before the entire congregation arrived to help with the cleanup. Despite their hard work, the place would never be the same again.
Those responsible admitted it proudly, as if it was their destiny.
Whoever thought they could bring down the house of the Lord with a bomb were sadly mistaken.
Despite his grief, the old pastor gave the sermon of his lifetime. he started out with these words: “This place is but a building. The Lord’s home is wherever we shall gather in his name.”
This is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers. My condolences to the families of those lost in the Manchester Bombing. Senseless killing seems to be commonplace those days. What is most disturbing to me is how people are claiming responsibility, as if this is something to be proud of. Thanks for reading.
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Harry took his wife out to a local diner for a Mother’s Day meal. The man was outraged when the waitress brought a bottle of No Name Ketchup to the table.
“No name brand Ketchup? You call yourself a restaurant? Fake Ketchup?” he hollered, embarrassing his poor wife.
“I only use Heinz Ketchup! If it ain’t Heinz, there are no other kinds!” he yelled. “I have been using Heinz all my life, just ask my wife!”
“Relax Harry, you have been using No Name brand for years, I just refilled the Ketchup bottle with whatever was on sale” she admitted.
Happy Mothers Day to all the special moms out there, especially those who live with stubborn men like Harry. This story is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers. I hope you enjoyed this, and thanks for reading.
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Steam bellowed from the busted radiator, as Susan paced the deserted highway.
A ratty old tow truck appeared in the distance. The driver rolled his window down, “Name’s Frank. Looks as if you have a bit of trouble. Hop in my truck, I’ll tow you to my garage and fix it.” She sensed something, but ignored her intuition and stepped inside.
Upon her entry, Susan noticed something odd. No seats, no dashboard, and worst of all, no floor. As she fell to her death, she disappeared into the oblivion.
“Another car for my collection” the Devil said, as he drove away.
This little tale of hospitality and horror is brought to you courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. Click on the froggy for more intriguing tales based on the photo.
PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook
Alexander and Peter inherited their parents’ fortune, and spent their time bickering.
Alexander enjoyed picking up pennies from the street and adding them to his bank account; while Peter was so wasteful, he threw money out the window of his plane.
On this occasion, Alexander was driving to town to buy groceries. He drove the rusted Mercedes convertible his dad left him. Suddenly, he lost control of the car as it left the road.
Search crews located Alexander’s car in a deep ravine. He was DOA. The autopsy revealed he died from a massive brain injury. A penny was found inside his skull.
This ironic tale of the fast and the frivolous is brought to you courtesy of Friday Fictioneers. Click on the froggy for more stories based on the photo prompt.