PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

They say nothing ever happens in Epic, at least nothing good, and maybe that’s why she left. People ask, “Do you remember her?” People are idiots. I was only six weeks old, how would I remember her? Except that—there’s this statue I saw on the news—a ‘reconstruction’. ‘Jane Doe’ they called her, and they found her bones in River Park—with a dent in the skull the size of a dead blow hammer.

“Do you think she’ll come back?” I used to ask my daddy. And he would smile this smile I used to think was sad and study the grease under his nails.

“You just never know,” he’d say.

You just never know.

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This has been an edition of the fabulous Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wiscoff Fields. This week’s photo courtesy Roger Bultot.

To read, more or to submit your own, click the blue froggy button:

PS This week I am on the naughty list–at 16 words over the 100-word limit. My apologies. Thanks for reading.

PHOTO PROMPT © Mary Shipman

“Returnis Shelvum.”

Nothing happened. Exasperated, Pretoria peered in the cubby beneath the register for the Book of Retail Spells. But of course, it was gone.

“Does nothing stay put in this store?” She blew a wisp of hair off her forehead and looked up. The sleepwalking nightgowns had arranged themselves nicely over the bed-buggery short-sheets. But everything else had been a complete disaster since Madame Terminus had left for lunch.

The rickrolling pins had beaned the last two customers.  Madame Terminus was due back any minute. There was only one thing to do.

She lifted her wand and waved. “Confringo!”

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This has been an edition of the Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff Fields. This week’s photo courtesy Mary Shipman. To read more or to submit your own, click the blue froggy button.

PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

“Congratulations Boomer.”

Boomer was the name he’d picked up in the mailroom back when he’d started. He stared at the glass door where they’d etched his name just that morning. There was no limit to where he could go from here, given his rocket ride to CTO.

“At the rate he’s going, he’ll be running the whole company by 2020.” Daleen held up a glass and the dozens of well-wishers crowded into his new office cheered.

He had good friends.

Which was what made it so hard to do what he had to do next.

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This has been an edition of the Friday Fictioneers, a weekly 100-word photo prompt hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. To read more flash fiction or to submit your own story, click the blue froggy button.