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Memorialized - Photo by Douglas M MacIlroy

Memorialized – Photo by Douglas M MacIlroy

He had found a rift in the time continuum, which allowed him to travel back through history. Dressed in scuba gear, he jumped through the rift.

Light as a feather, he found himself floating in the sea. Whooshing towards him was a huge creature. It slowed as it got near. John was dog paddling. The Plesiosauria leaned forward as if smelling him. He reached out his hand. The nose of the creature touched his hand. He stroked her face. What a thrill!

When John came back to the present day, he created a sculpture to memorialize his unique encounter.

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Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and to Douglas MacIlroy for the photo that inspired my short story!

And, thank you dear reader for taking the time to drop by for a quick read. I hope that you have a terrific Thursday. Be well…. ^..^

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© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits.” So goes the rumor. I love visiting ghost towns.

Driving into the town, I pull into the parking lot of the hotel at the top of the hill. I put the car in park, unfasten my seat belt and get out. It is so quiet.

I head towards the front door of the hotel. It is chipped, peeling, and open. I walk in. Dust covers the floor. A huge mirror hangs behind the front desk. There is a bell on the desk. I walk over to it and tap. A ding rings throughout the lobby. I can hear footsteps behind me. My heart begins to race.  Turning, I look.  I do not see anyone.

Behind me, I hear a voice. “Welcome to the Miners Hill Hotel. Would you like a room?” I turn towards the voice. No one is there. The front door slams shut and locks. I gulp.

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This is my contribution this week to the Mondays Finish the Story flash fiction challenge!

Mondays Finish the Story

If you feel like joining in on this challenge, then click HERE!

Thank you dear reader for taking the time to stop by today! Have one heck of an amazing week! Be well… ^..^

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Anchors - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Anchors – Photo by Alastair Forbes

The forty-foot swells came from out of nowhere. The captain, buckled in to his seat, held tight to the wheel, sweat dripped down his face. The crew battened down the hatches. Water swept across the decks taking with it anything not tied down.

Up and down, the ship rode the waves. The winds howled, making the crew believe that the Seven Sirens sang to them. Water slammed into the ship, tossing the crew to the left, then to the right. The captain was heading for the shore.

Suddenly, all heard the sound of ripping metal. Ice-cold water rushed in. Crewmen were swept out to sea. The captain felt the ship list to the left. Over the loud speaker he yelled, “Abandon ship! Abandon ship!”

He let go of the wheel heading outside. A huge wave rushed in pinning him to the door of the wheelhouse, then grabbed at his feet pulling him out to sea. He thanked God for his life and surrendered himself to a certain death.

The storm raged on and the Odyssey quickly sank. All that remained of this ship: A pair of anchors, now on display at Odyssey Park. None of the crew survived.

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To Alastair Forbes: Thank you for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction, and for the amazing photo that inspired my story!

Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction

Thanks go out to you too, dear reader, for taking the time to stop on by for a quick read. Have a splendid Sunday and be well… ^..^

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Water - Photo by Santoshwriter

Water – Photo by Santoshwriter

With water at a premium, they did all that they could to capture every bit they could. Today they went into the forest.

“Mom, look at what I found!” exclaimed Sheila.

Heading over to the shrub, her mother bent down to take a look. There were leaves covered with drops of precious water. “Wonderful!” her mother said.

For years now, with the drought ongoing in California, the people did what they could to get water. Big companies had drained the State of water all for the mighty dollar.

Sheila gently grabbed the leaf. Sadly, it was just a drop in the bucket.

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Thank you Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and to Santoshwriter for the photo that inspired this story.

To you my dear reader, thank you for stopping by for a quickie read! Have an amazing Thursday and be well… ^..^

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Today is devoted to the other blog that I write, which is the Mondays Finish the Story flash fiction challenge. This challenge gives an opening line to a story that the writer must use and that they write a story that goes along with the photo. The word limit is 100-150 words. Today, I went over the limit as my story just needed to. I think you will agree! Here is my contribution and the title is “Stuck in a Sub.” The opening sentence is in bold and italicized letters.

The Sub - Photo by BW Beacham

The Sub – Photo by BW Beacham

The crew of the Angel Flame received orders to head out. They made their way over to the pier to pick up passengers. Once there, they collected the tickets from the fifteen and helped them board the sub. With everyone in seats, crew-member Johnson closed the hatch.

He made his way into the sub and checked out the folks on board. There were 14 adults and one little boy. He explained to the group what to do in case of emergency, and then gave the signal. Captain Farthington turned the submarine towards the coral reef. The trip would be forty-five minutes long.

Johnson began describing the ocean life along the reef when all of a sudden there was a ripping sound followed by a noxious odor. A tiny voice said, “Scuse me.”

Over the next half hour, the people on board were turning green. After thirty “Scuse mes,” they were ready to get back to shore. The smell was so bad it could knock a dead man off a slab.

After the ride in the submarine, Jenny and Jeremy made their way to the Island Grill for a bite to eat. Walking in behind them was the family with the farting boy. Jenny said to the hostess, “Please seat them first.” When the hostess returned to take them to their table, Jenny said to her, “Can we please have a table as far away from them as possible?”

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Mondays Finish the Story

Thanks for dropping in today! If you would like to write for this challenge, then just click HERE!

Be well and have a magnificent Monday! ^..^

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Sundays I devote to writing for Alastair Forbes’ Sunday Photo Fiction. This flash fiction challenge indicates that we are to write a story using about 200 words that goes with the photo prompt. Here is the photo and my story entitled “The Ice Cream Truck.”

Ice Cream Truck - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Ice Cream Truck – Photo by Alastair Forbes

We had moved to this new neighborhood for the peace and quiet that it offered. After unpacking, we decided to enjoy the front porch. I prepared a drink for me and my partner and we headed out front to sit in the rocking chairs.

We sat, quiet within our own thoughts. “Do you hear that?” I asked my partner.

“Yea, what is that?”

“It sounds like that song from Disneyland.”

“Ah, ‘It’s a Small World After All’, I think.”

Down the street rolls an unusual ice cream truck. It’s transparent. It stops in front of our house. Next, we witness children running out from our closed front door heading towards the truck in the street. They laughed in delight as they sat on the lawn to eat their ice cream. My partner and I looked at each other in shock.

Then the truck slowly moves forward. As the music played, it drove off and disappeared. Looking back at the children, their ice cream finished, they slowly walk up the steps and disappear through the closed front door.

“Are you ready for another drink?” I asked.

My partner replied, “Make it a double.”

I took both glasses, and as my partner watched, I disappeared through the closed front door.

“What the heck?” he yells.

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Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction

Thank you Al for hosting and providing the lovely photo that inspired this sweet story! I hope that all is going well with your two books.

And, to you dear reader, thank you for dropping by today to visit! I hope that you have a splendid Sunday, and may you be well…. ^..^

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The Silo - Photo by Marie Gail Stratford

The Silo – Photo by Marie Gail Stratford

“Mom,” said Haley. “My cell phone is not getting a signal!”

Ignoring her daughter, she remembered Grandpa Jenkins. “See that tower? There used to be barns around it for the dairy cattle. One day, while Grandpa was milking the cows, a bright light from the sky illuminated the building and in a flash, it was gone. We never saw Grandpa again. That silo is all that is left.”

* * * * *

Grandpa Jenkins’ cows stood in a hold on the Starship. He was teaching the Greys how to milk the cows.  In his mind, he heard them shout, “Milk!”

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Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and the Marie Gail Stratford for the photo that inspired this tale.

Thank you dear reader for taking the time to stop on by for a quick read… Be well! ^..^

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