Mr Twinkle reclined, an air of nobility and idle grandeur about him. He stretched and opened his eyes.
It was a bit of a shock to his eyes to see that although he was still on the comfortable seat on the back of the scooter, he was not in the same place at all. The sight of the cobblestones, the warm summery smells, were all very different.
Clearly, he would have to watch where he decided to fall asleep in future.
Jumping off to search for breakfast, he thought ‘Where ever I am, I’m not in Kansas anymore.’
This story was written for Friday Fictioneers: See link below.
They put down their heavy bundle and sat by the fire to warm their aching bones. The travellers had walked for many miles from the last village and it was many miles more until they reached the next.
There was something primordial about the fire. It took them back to their roots and made them whole again. The strength slowly returned to their muscles ready for tomorrows trek. Maybe, at the next village they will accept them, but if not, they will do what they always did. Sell a few things, buy a few then travel on. Such is Life.
This was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers picture challenge:
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.
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:
“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.
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 30/November/2018
This was written for Friday Fictioneers Challenge, see the link: