Friday Fictioneers: Hung over and feeling empty

This week’s Friday Fictioneers has so much going on — from multiple keyboards to an actual Tears for Fears album (I think that’s what it is anyways) in the corner. Going to be interesting to see what stories develop from such a diverse (yet cramped) photo. Anyways, in 100 words or fewer, here’s my offering.

I would’ve traded all of it, handed it over without a thought, every last piece of music in that room to journey back to when that bottle of beer was full. The day I shared that bottle was the last day I was happy.

I remember the feel — still the coldest beer I’ve ever had; the sweetness — chocolate stout with a hint of vanilla; the sharing — passing it back and forth with her at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

I don’t know what went wrong. But by the time the elevator touched down at the base, we were over.

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Friday Fictioneers: Sheepish beginnings

Another chance to join the Friday Fictioneers club and follow the most-interesting photo prompt. I assume I’m not the only one that feels like a lamb being led to the laughter.

The first day of our honeymoon and it had started off on the wrong foot.

We hadn’t discussed it before the marriage, but here it was. Move into his place or mine?

The argument grew heated quickly.

Then the traffic stopped.

“I’m going to walk,” I said, opening the door.

“Sam, wait,” John started.

I swung the door open, only to have it pushed right back in, the first of what seemed like thousands of sheep streaming against us.

“Guess this road was a baaaaad idea,” John said.

My giggle turned into gales of laughter for the two of us.

Friday Fictioneers: Moving down river

A weekly photo prompt challenge from Rochelle that I’m excited to delve into. My first attempt at Friday Fictioneers. Check it out too, so you can take a shot at it. And see if you too can keep it under 100 words.

Last night the kids took to dumping an old shopping cart into the muck.

Ever since the power plant up river had built a dam, Laketown had dried up.

With no river lifeline, the jobs had set sail along with the fish.

Even the schools were dwindling. Most of the time my two didn’t go, and I didn’t see much point in sending them.

We’d be shoving off too, and soon. Before I spent my last twenty on a forty. The RV was on empty. And so was I. Not sure which one I wanted to fill up more.