The below story is fiction. It is my submission for this week’s Friday Fictioneers 100 word story hosted and led by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, based on a photo prompt provided. Any comments or feedback are always welcomed.
For those reading my stories, my characters and what they experience are all fictional. They live in fictional locations, unless otherwise mentioned. My stories do not refer to anything I (or anyone I know) have experienced, or a situation I have gone through. But, they could be real people, or about real experiences, if I make them convincing enough. Again, that is a part of the creativity I strive for, as a writer, fictional characters experiencing things that might happen to them, or those in their lives. My characters and their stories are not based on any particular perspective, or viewpoint I have on the subject, only the perspective needed to tell the story. I believe that a truly creative and effective writer of fiction can create all different kinds of characters and situations in their imagination. But, in creating my own stories I like to leave an impression or image that will resonate with the reader. One that is as real as these experiences are, or can be in my characters’ lives, will leave the impression that there can be hope in a situation, or experience, not always one of despair. In real life it can turn a situation around for them to the positive. I hope you will come along with me to my imaginative world of ‘make believe’ and maybe you will feel like you have known that character in my stories you have read about. One you can cry with, grieve with, sympathize with, laugh with, or just be entertained by them. And for those just coming along for the first time to a Friday Fictioneers story of mine, you can catch up on all my past Friday Fictioneers stories from 2012, and any other of my longer fiction stories posted by going back to my category listing on ‘Fiction’.
Thank you, and a Happy New Year to all the Friday Fictioneers, bloggers, readers and writers following my blog in 2012.
BOOM! Colors exploding in the sky.
Pink, purple, hues of all kinds.
Party hats rushing. Whistles in my face.
From where did they come?
“Where do I go?”
“Where can I hide?”
I can’t stop the ringing in my ears.
Like bullets pinging off my brain.
My hand clutches a ticket, but a ticket to where?
Images of things spinning around.
Don’t remember anything.
Dark cloaked shadows stalking my head.
All turning black.
There’s a beautiful face looking down upon me,
Smiling, with the kindest eyes ever seen,
His arms reach out, receiving me.
One final note: The story above, is in tribute to victims (and their surviving families) killed through tragic deaths this last year, and prior committed by one who was bent on destroying the lives of others, through mass killings.
Joyce E. Johnson