Friday Fictioneers – Dark Secrets – A Tale in 100 words.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The vase of gilded roses sat, as they always had, on the sideboard in her grandmother’s neat apartment.

Next to them were the photographs of family members long gone, whose names she’d been made to commit to memory.

She had only once asked about the significance of those roses. Her grandmother’s eyes had welled with tears and so she’d changed the subject.

Their family had been prosperous and powerful once, but no one spoke of their fall from grace.

Someday, she hoped she’d have the courage to ask again and the courage to cope with her grandmother’s answers.


This was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers picture challenge:

22 February 2019


and also included the word prompts:


100 Word Story – Friday Fictioneers – Still a way to go.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller

As the Train driver made his debut journey along that old train track that his great-grandfather laid down, he recalled the gift of a toy train set he’d received as a child. That had started him on this journey to become a driver.

He reflected how far his family had come. His great-grandfather had built the line as a Slave and now his great-grandson was driving the train.

Just then one of his co-workers shouted at him. “Hey, keep your eyes on what you’re doing” then dropped the N-word.

Sadly, they still had a long way to go yet.

[99 words]

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 07/December/2018

This story was written for the Friday Fictioneers Challenge. It was also inspired by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ excellent story about Hattie McDaniel.

See the link here:

This story also includes the following word prompts:

100-word story – Operation Frost

The suspicious package was classified ‘Top Secret’ but it had fallen into the wrong hands. Their hands.

Reading the documents revealed that the world’s climate was being manipulated, tightly controlled by one man who sat in his fortress. Governments around the world were being blackmailed to support him. One by one democratic leaders were replaced by puppets.

There were still pockets of resistance, but that’s where Operation Frost came in.

Cold arctic blasts would roll in across the continent.

Now they knew the truth, there was little they could do.

Winter was coming and it was going to be nuclear.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 30/November/2018

100 Word Story – Friday Fictioneers – Old things remembered.


“Mummy, what are those things?” Sofie asked her Mother in the Museum of Ancient Artifacts.

“I think they were something to do with Cars. Grandpa would know.” Then a doleful expression came over her face. Her father had died two weeks before, but she was still adjusting to it. She kept thinking he would call on the videophone and ask her where he put his spectacles. He’d been a veteran of World War Three and had known so much about what the world had been like before the war had swept so much aside, like a third of the population.

[100 words]

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 30/November/2018

This was written for Friday Fictioneers Challenge, see the link:

100 Word Story – Friday Fictioneers – Under the Bridge

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Under the Bridge

It was just a stretch of highway that crossed over a creek. 

Nothing special to look at, not worth travelling to seek.

We lived under the bridge, it gave us shelter from the rain

We had nothing much to live for, just more misery and pain.

How many more people have fallen through the cracks?

Shelter under bridges, on the wrong side of the tracks?

Each day an ordeal through which we must be brave.

Do not seek us under bridges, all you’ll find now, is our grave.

[90 word]

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 16/November/2018

I started out writing a story, but It kept falling into a pattern and it became a poem. I am sorry if this does not comply with the rules, but creativity sometimes has a life of its own. 

This was written for Friday Fictioneers Challenge, see the link:

100 Word Story – Friday Fictioneers – Her Last Ball

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Before the story:

The past few weeks I have been taking part in a competition run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields called the Friday Fictioneers. She posts a different picture every week, usually on a Wednesday and the challenge is to write a story is 100 words or less (not easy when you are as verbally verbose as I am). It is a fantastic challenge and the people that take part are really friendly and welcoming.

If you are looking for a little challenge where the emphasis is on feedback and creative support, then give this one a try. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed, I know I’m not.

Click the link here:

26 October 2018

If you want to read the story I wrote last week, it’s here:

Her Last Ball

She closed her eyes and remembered that glass ceiling and her last ball in that grand room.

That was many years ago now, before the war. Before their world had been torn apart.

Their opponent had won. There would be no more balls, laughter or beauty anymore.

Only bombs, oppression and the sword.

Opening her eyes, she saw again the shattered glass on the floor and the hole the last bomb had made.

Picking up her broom, she returned to her designated task and began sweeping those fragments away along with her treasured memories.

[94 words]

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 5/ October/2018

FOWC with Fandango — Opponent

100 Word Story – Friday Fictioneers – The Tower of Dreams.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly Funell


She grew up seeing that tower across the bay and it taunted her. The orphanage was on the seafront in the town of Ryde on the Isle of Wight. Everyone seemed to want to go to the Isle of Wight, on holidays and weekend breaks. She would see families walking along the pier or playing on the beach. Life seemed to torment her with things that were beyond her reach.

Finally, she’d saved up enough money and escaped the Island. She was standing at the Tower of her childhood dreams. This had represented everything to her as a child. Freedom.

[100 words]

This story was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

See here:

19 October 2018


100-Word Story – That lost world.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The class gathered around the table in the Museum.

“These fragments are all that we have left of a sea creature that used to be common all over the world before the sea became too hot. It was called Coral.”

Jaxon put up his hand to ask a question.

“Yes, Jaxon what is it?”

“Was this another animal humans killed when we failed to tackle our pollution. Before we had to start living underground?”

“Yes, Jaxon, I’m afraid it is.”

The teacher couldn’t help shedding a tear for that lost world she’d loved, that these children will never know.

[99 words]


This story was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

See here:

5 October 2018



100 Word Story – With an Iron Will.

This is a sequel to the story I wrote, Empty at the Wake, see below:

I have had so many positive comments about this story and in particular feeling a great deal of empathy and sympathy with the much maligned main character that I felt duty bound to write a short sequel in order to reassure that though she is suffering, she will survive. 


While she stood iron-straight with a cup of tea clasped in one hand, the family Solicitor arrived.

While some guests milled about in the hall she along with her late husband’s two sisters went into the Dining room to hear the reading of the will.

The Solicitor announced that the Family home, contents and entire fortune were left to his Widow. She saw the emotions on her sisters in law’s faces change from outrage to disappointment to realising that their continued comfort depended on her.

Resisting their sudden insincere charm, she turned and instructed the Solicitor to sell the house.

100-word story – Empty at the Wake

PHOTO PROMPT © Priorhouse

They all returned from the burial to find the marble hall laid out ready for tea and coffee.

This was the part she was most dreading. Not only had she lost her husband of twenty years but now she had to put on a brave face and chat with his family who she’d always detested.

They believed she’d married him for his money. He was seventeen years her senior. They could never understand; it wasn’t the money at all. He’d made her laugh and taken care of her. Every moment together had been fun.

Now her life would be empty.

[100 words]


This story was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

See here:

28 September 2018