SPF: A White Wedding

220-12-december-17th-2017

A White Wedding

Words: 200

It was the most exciting Christmas ever, pretty much like her tenth birthday when she had got a puppy and a bicycle. And now after 25 years, her prayers had been answered with not one but two suitors.

“So Ryan or Dave?” Sheila asked.

“Dave is just a friend!” Fiona protested.

“Who loves you…”

“But I love Ryan,” Fiona wore a dreamy look. “I can’t believe that someone like Ryan could ever…”

“So you are grateful and overwhelmed with his attention?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Seemed like it to me.” Sheila shrugged.

“Why do you say that?”

“Here you are at the ripe old age of 35, a self-made entrepreneur, no expectations of getting married ever, and in comes Ryan, the dashing handsome rake that you’ve always been warned about…”

“Yes I know!” groaned Fiona. “Dave is safe while Ryan is like skydiving. My brain says one thing and my heart another. It’s a tough call.”

“If you had to choose one, the puppy or the bike, what would you choose?”

“Mr. Pups for his unconditional love. The bike gave me a lot of grief. Even broke my leg.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

 

“I do.” Fiona smiled mistily at Ryan.

 ***

Written for the Sunday photo fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting the challenge and and photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Missed Call

Hello friends, curious about the outcome, I couldn’t resist writing a sequel to last week’s FF: The Helpline Number but I think (and hope) this works as a standalone story as well. As usual thank you for your indulgence 🙂

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Photo (c) Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Missed Call

Words 100

 “Yes?” The portly neighbor’s eyes glistened.

“I’m locked out.” She said. “Could you call a carpenter?”

“At this time?” He opened the door.

She backed away.

But she wouldn’t call him.

 

His house was spic and span. Not a crease out of place. Just the way he liked it. Yet everything looked cold, clinical.

He gave the cushion a restless twitch.

Her inhaler.

 His breath caught.

What if she needed it?

 What did he care?

She had walked out.

Why the hell wasn’t she picking her phone?

 

How careless can you be?” He brandished her inhaler.

She burrowed into him.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – A story in 100 words or less. Thank you Rochelle for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.