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:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/10/19/100-word-story-friday-fictioneers-the-tower-of-dreams/

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

Three Things Challenge, 01 June 2018 – Glass Half Full

Here are the three words for 01 June 2018: girl, glass, animal (theme or word)

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/06/01/three-things-challenge-01-june-2018/

Samantha sat up in her room thinking. Her Mum was cooking dinner and occasionally she got a whiff of the meat roasting. The smell turned her stomach. She had given up eating meat a while ago and the thought of chomping away at an animal just disgusted her. She normally ate in her room now. Her Mum would normally do her a plate of roasted potatoes and leafy greens. 

She was still thinking about what Donnie had told her when he walked her home from college. Donnie was that guy who was smart but also really cool. He was great at sports and all the girls would run to the window if he was track running, just to see him. He usually dated the cheerleaders and the tall blonde girls who she hated, but secretly envied. She wasn’t that tall and had brown hair and wasn’t interested in sports at all. She much preferred reading a book. It had come as quite a surprise when Donnie started hanging out with her. He sat with her in the library and in the lunch hall. This was the second time he’d walked her home. He told her he loved her. Her, with her frizzy brown hair and glasses. She was so overwhelmed she didn’t know what to say. He seemed taken aback by her silence and more than a little hurt. 

Just then there was a sound at the window, the unmistakable sound of a stone hitting the glass. She looked out and Donnie was standing there. 

She opened the window and called down to him.

“Most people ring the doorbell you know?”

He smiled up at her in a slightly sheepish way.

“Look, I want to know how you feel about me. I’ve told you how I feel. Do you like me or not?”

“Yes, yes I do. I’ve been thinking about you tonight. I do like you alot.”

Donnie sighed, could it be in relief? She wasn’t sure.

“Well will you come to the prom with me or not?”

This time it was Samantha who sighed. The prom was weeks away and she had given up hope of anyone asking her. She wasn’t exactly a pessimist but she wasn’t one of those ‘Glass Half Full’ people either. Heck, she was just glad that there was a glass and there was something in it. She leaned out the window and called back to Donnie.

“Yes, Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

“Well, see you tomorrow Sam. You know, this is a bit like that Shakespeare play when that guy calls up to this girl that he likes.”

“You mean Romeo and Juliet?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Goodnight Juliet.”

Then he was gone. She didn’t feel like dinner any more. She felt far too happy for that.

The End

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 01/June/2018