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Here’s the photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers courtesy of Madison Woods. Thanks Madison, for starting and continuing this wonderful writing prompt. Please visit her site and check out all the other Friday Fictioneers. Here’s my 100 word take on the photo:

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The scent of Big Macs and fries drew them, although only he was sentient. The years of training at the monastery having paid off, so to speak.

A moth, really? He flapped his brown wings, and guessed it could be worse. He could have come back as a germ or an amoeba. At least he’d been prepared. She however, not so much. Did she see this as heaven or hell? Or was she just a moth, drawn to the light of the window, totally unaware of having been more?

He remembered the suicide vest, trigger in her hand. Speaking about her god before sending them both into the great beyond.

Suddenly a bird swooped in, grabbing her in its beak before flying off.

Karma’s a bitch.

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Photo courtesy of Mary Shipman.

Here’s the photo prompt for #Friday Fictioneers. Thanks Madison, for starting and continuing this wonderful writing prompt. Please visit her site and check out all the other Friday Fictioneers. Here’s my 100 word take on the photo:

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They swirl through me, relentless in their quest. Shutting them out is not an option.

They know what I am.

I glance at the gap in the wall. Ten sets of small human bones, and they call me a monster. Sometimes I hate this gig. “Anybody know an Abbey?” A sharp pain in my temple. “Not Abbey, Abigail?”

“Yes, that’s my daughter’s name. Is she…here?”

“Yes. She says she’s sorry she skipped school that day. She loves you.”

Closure, now she can move on. I extend my black wings against the light of ascension, the young always go up.

The guard jerks my chain. “None of that Demon. I like to see you burn.”

Like I said, I hate this gig.

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Here’s the photo prompt for #Friday Fictioneers courtesy of Madison Woods. Thanks Madison, for starting and continuing this wonderful writing prompt. Please visit her site and check out all the other Friday Fictioneers. Here’s my 100 word take on the photo:

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I can hear the man-child, pacing outside the entry, hesitant.  The dark tunnel frightens him.  His dulled senses reawaken to give a primal warning.

He ignores the hind brain, moves forward, entering my abode.

Arrogant human.

I sniff the air as he approaches. The spicy tang of fear rolls across my olfactory gland, I slaver, anticipating his adrenaline spiked taste…

A woman approaches the counter at the Police Department. “My son’s missing. He didn’t come home from school today.”

The deputy looks up. “He’s probably just off playing ma’am, but go ahead and fill out this form…”

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Here’s the photo prompt for #Friday Fictioneers courtesy of Madison Woods. Thanks Madison, for starting and continuing this wonderful writing prompt. Please visit her site and check out all the other #Friday Fictioneers. Here’s my 100 word take on the photo:

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“That’s where it lives.”

Gran’s words echo through my head as I stare at the decrepit old truck down the hill.

“It’s the ‘tween times you needs to worry ’bout, evenin’ and mornin’. That’s when it comes out.”

I glance over my shoulder, the sun just a glow on the horizon.

I step toward the truck and place my hand on the pitted metal hood. Gran’s locket laced through my fingers. cool like her body’d been this morning.

I close my eyes and bow my head. Ready to meet the other half of the family, ready to make the Changeling’s Choice.

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