From the confines of the van, they watched as the embers spat, crackled and popped furiously.
‘Do you think they will ever find out?’
‘Except someone tells them and I expect you have no such plans,’ the veiled threat in Vladimir’s words barely concealed.
His pale blue eyes shone with satisfaction in the darkly lit van. The mission has been successful. All the evidence has either been eliminated or burnt to cinders.
‘Of course not,’ Helmut quickly replied. He pulled his cloak a bit tighter and took a long sip from a small bottle of Vodka, the warmth of the fiery liquid unable to stop the frisson of chill he had within. He knew his days were numbered.
Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Enisa for the photo and PJ for hosting.
She had to work fast ‘cos it was now or never. Agatha felt a slight pang of guilt at what she was about to do, but her resolve hardened at the thought of freedom and new beginnings.
Finally, she would escape Simon’s pimping clutches. With her mind on the dream of a whole new life and personae, some money in the bank and a new home in a city where no one knew her or her sordid past, she stuck the feathered note under the lapel of his jacket as instructed. The agents have enough evidence of his drug runs, human trafficking, and organ harvesting to put him away for a very long time.
Generously helping herself to the stash of cash in the wardrobe, she adjusted her Spanx, joined the men in the smoke-filled living room and waited.
Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Raymond, for the photo and PJ for hosting.
As I stood in the shallow pool of water, freeze-framed images of us dancing, laughing and splashing water like children played consistently in my minds eye.
Brookes’ happy laughter echoed with delight in my ears. This little gem of a place brought out that childish joy in her that made my heart bloom when I watched her face radiate and her cheeks pinken with pleasure.
I felt her presence, as real and as solid as if she stood beside me. Out of habit, I stretched out a hand to grasp hers, but the emptiness and lack of her warm palm hit me hard.
Has it only been six weeks? Six weeks sounds so short, yet it felt like an eternity. An eternity of hellish existence. Those dreaded words still rang in my heart and I still felt as shell-shocked as I had felt in the Oncologists office. Words like, ‘biopsy, chemotherapy, aggressive, incurable Cancer, metastasized’ and the worst of all ‘few weeks left’…changed our lives so drastically.
I stood there and in that shallow pool of water ‘the secret brook that Brooke loved’ for the first time, I allowed the hot tears to flow freely. I had had to stay strong and had not allowed her to see me cry.
Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Enisa, for the photo and PJ for hosting.
P.S. Priceless Joy, sorry for the late submission. I had auto-set it to publish yesterday but for some tech reasons, it didn’t go live.
Helena loves chasing rainbows even when everyone thinks that she’s cuckoo.
They remind her of her dad and the stories that he shared with her throughout his life.
He was particularly fond of rainbows and his last words to her before he passed were ‘anytime you see a rainbow, I am somewhere there riding it.’
Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Mark, for the photo and PJ for hosting.
The Heron stared longingly at the water and the other side. There was barely a nibble in his line of sight, yet across the lake, the tangled webs of deceit from the greedy humans brimmed with fish.
Through the ripples, he could see his own reflection as clear as the day. He noticed his neck had grown thinner and longer from rationed portions of fish and he croaked in annoyance.
His fishing hours grew longer by the day but each new day brought more boats and humans to the quay and the water grew darker with oil from all manner of engines.
In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you J.S for the photo and PJ for hosting.
She is called many names; the wandering woman, mystery lady, the medicine woman, the mad woman of Katoke or the nuisance.
She always appeared in the neighbourhoods for a couple of weeks before the start of each season bearing numerous pots and bags of exotic plants. Each boiling pot served broths that cured various ailments and all that was required for any to work is faith.
Whenever she visited the poorer quarters, the inhabitant’s welcomed her presence. They would come bearing little gifts in exchange for helpings from her healing condiments, but the experience was the opposite at the more prestigious parts of town where the policing guards did their best to discourage the charlatan ‘as she was called.’
On various occasions, they ran her off the premises with a stern warning of arrest if she kept visiting but at dusk, these uppity members of high society went to the poor side of town to see her secretly.
Thank you Yarnspinner for the interesting photo prompt and PJ for hosting.
The sparse cupboard with the solitary pack of Batchelor soup and canned beans stared back at him as if in mockery. His posh apartment was a sorry mess. Take out boxes and dirty mugs littered the kitchen and George wondered when his life had become so empty.
He was fatigued from months of insufficient sleep and taking work home; the promotion came with more responsibilities than anticipated. He was tired of eating out of paper boxes, he missed having a decent relationship with anyone and would have given a tooth for some helping of the curry flavourful dish that floated down the corridor from his married neighbours’ apartment; his tummy grumbled at the thought.
The ping of the microwave interrupted his thoughts and the cup of overflowing soup that looked more like lava made him swear. With a sigh of resignation, he picked up the phone to call Chinatown. The hum of voices and laughter from next door sharply reminded him that a robust bank balance did not make up for loneliness.
Thank you artycaptures for the photo-prompt and my lady P.J. our amiable hostess.
Check out my latest book ‘Unbridled.’
Little stabs of jealousy struck Cody as he stood at the corner and watched Josh and Sam cycle their latest acquisition around the neighbourhood park with such glee,
He envied how they always got the latest and best toys and momentarily, he felt sad and angry that poverty kept his mama from buying any of such things for him. He was tired of their scrounging for food, for hand-me-downs and their broken television.
From past experience, he knew not to ask them if he could join them because they would only laugh and make fun of him. Last time when they were flying a kite and he came closer to watch, Sam made fun of his ill-fitting clothes and oversized trainers and he had walked away red in the face and ashamed.
He really wanted to fit in and he was tired of feeling out of place, but what could a ten-year old do? Maybe if his dad hadn’t died, they wouldn’t be so poor with his mother juggling several jobs. He hoped mama was right in saying that things would get better some day.
Thank you, Dorothy, for the photo prompt and PJ for hosting.
Cassie’s excitement grew as she boarded the flight. Her boss had grudgingly approved her time off after making her feel as if she was indispensable and her vacation was a time-wasting venture.
She knew Ian would be surprised and pleased to see her since he had given up on their having the vacation together due to her intense work that never seemed to abate.
Daydreaming as the plane made its way to Seychelles, she imagined all the exciting moments that they would have; surfing, kayaking, sleeping in a little longer, lounging in her bathing suit sipping some fruity cocktail, catching up on her reading and just enjoying being together. Who knows, maybe he would get round to proposing; a girl could always dream.
The holiday resort looked fabulous, but the concierge did his best to burst the bubble of her surprise by insisting on calling Ian before giving her a key.
A flustered, unexcited boyfriend joined her in the lobby. The mere look in Ian’s eye’s told her that something was wrong.
Thank you, TJ Paris for the photo prompt and PJ for hosting.
Check out my latest book ‘Unbridled.’
Cyril was disgusted at the oily surface of the water and the amount of trash he fished out of it.
The debris grew worse with each passing day, dead fishes turned up at an alarming rate, the waterway was drying up; the livelihood of the little town has been on the decline and asides for selfish gains, he just couldn’t understand why the Governor signed the controversial pipeline contract with the company responsible for dumping waste into the water and destroying the ecosystem.
The more he thought about that corrupt fellow, the more his anger festered and he wished he could grab the greedy bagger by the collar of his oversized, expensive jacket and dunk him in the foul mess.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Thank you, Louise, for the photo and PJ for hosting.
Check out my latest book ‘Unbridled.’