The Old Asylum

friday fictioneers 4.12.19

The asylum was vast, and old. Aiyana was sufficiently recovered from her injuries to be allowed out. Nothing remained wrong with her physically. She had no recollection of who she was, where she was from or what wretched events brought her here. Continue reading “The Old Asylum”


A Thorny Problem

friday fictioneers 4.4.19

A Thorny Problem

Shara’s forest was concealed by a veil and booby trapped. Although most of the Pure Human Revolution League walked right by her little section of forest, somehow Eldbar and Regvat had stumbled right through the veil. She smiled as they became hopelessly entangled in thorny branches.

“Oye Eldbar, we’re so humped. I cannot move at all.”

“Shhhh, you dolt, we’d be a right tasty meal for some snagnasty stuck the way we are.”

Reluctantly, Shara drew the thorns back enough to allow the two to escape and sent her tiny fae friends to make sure they made no wrong turns.

Word count 100

For Friday Fictioneers

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

The Tapestry of Life

Friday fictioneers 3.29.19

The Tapestry of Life

Arachne stood at the end of the line watching as the tapestry flowed out. She followed the threads back to their spindles, lightly fingering them as she went. Arachne was bound not to interfere with the course the Fates had established for each life thread. But, a little tweak here or there couldn’t hurt.

The bright pink thread that was the Princess was woven so stunningly through the tapestry of life, extinguished too soon, to be replaced by the dull tan of her eldest son. Arachne smiled as she watched the thread turning to a pale lavender, another princess.

word count 99

For Friday Fictioneers, come check out some great micro fiction.

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

The Wheel of Tomorrow… Friday Fiction

Friday fictioneers 3.21.19

How long? How long had she been doing this? Sarah looked down from her lofty perch atop the Ferris Wheel. As the neon glare all but blocked out the stars, Sarah reminisced about a time when it was not so. So long ago when this had been flat farm land. Before the touch of modern buildings and streets it had been beautiful.

Sarah sighed, how she missed the trappings of ages long gone. Her short Katana blade, concealed by a long leather duster, was all that remained of her old life. Sometimes being an immortal just sucked.

Word count 97

For Friday Fictioneers

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

Better Days

Friday fictioneers 3.15.19

Better Days

It still stood on the sidewalk, a melancholy reminder of better days. The days when Grampy taught her to play, the days before. Before the Bluebird Pandemic had swept across the world, leaving millions of blue-faced corpses in it’s wake. The doctors had died in the first wave. The plague wiped out most of the world population, lack of sanitation took still more. Then came the looters. They stripped everything including the ebony and ivory keys from her beloved piano. Ayrelan had made a small memorial garden on the top of the derelict instrument, a tribute to better days.

Word count 99

For Friday Fictioneers

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

Return of the Dragon

friday fictioneers 3.8.19

Bethra bundled her herbs into her backpack. The blood wolf moon was in just a few hours and she still had to cleanse herself before the ritual could be completed. A witch who performed the Return to Me spell without a cleansed mind and body, risked dark consequences.

Sam waited on the back of her scooter, ghostly yellow eyes staring into the distance.

“Any trouble?” Bethra asked the huge black cat.

Sam held up a paw still clutching a piece of bloody cloth.

Bethra smiled, “Good Boy! Let’s go see if we can recall a dragon, shall we.”


Word count 98

For Friday Fictioneers

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

Dead Mountain Market

friday fictioneers 3.1.19

The town looked dead as Shira and Ranz drove through. The street was covered in melting snow, the traffic signal was stuck on yellow. It looked like the town had just died, no cars, no people.

“What happened here?” Ranz whispered to Shira and continued driving.

They passed the market, the windows were boarded up. Ranz stopped the car in front of the entry door and peered inside.

Suddenly a hand, gray and diseased, slammed a note forcefully against the window. Ranz jerked back. There, written in a shaky hand and some sort of dark ink, was one word. “RUN!”

word count 100

For Friday Fictioneers, photo credit Jean L. Hays

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP