Category Archives: Stories for Friday Fictioneers

The Great Storm

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Photo by Lura Helms from Madison Wood’s site

The horned skull stared blankly from within the crook of a tangled oak.
“On the night of the Great Storm, livestock was swept up and hurled all over these woods,” my father said. “Cars…..trucks……”
We passed skeletons of twisted iron, and teenagers wrestling a blackened elm for the radiator grill lodged at its heart.
Kneeling down, his eyes met mine. “You got angry, son.  I understand.”
I stared back.
“I was angry too – when your mother died… ” He stumbled over the words. “But all this …“
“It won’t happen again, Father.”
He suppressed a shudder as I spun the Vortex quietly between my palms.
“Good lad.”

 

All constructive criticism gratefully received.

The Rot

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Friday Fictioneers Madison Woods

image    Madison Woods

In the end, destroying all traces was simple.

Spores introduced at midnight erupted with milky white tendrils and swiftly penetrated the ancient timbers.

By dawn, their sickly flowers swelled to produce bulbous fruit the colour of angry midsummer roses. And in the midday sun, those fruits burst, disgorging a sickly yellow fluid ripe with seed, and rank with the sweat of decay.

This in turn attracted the little things. Those creatures which burrow and bite and chew, thriving on the rot of life.  Nature’s housekeepers.

The first cracks appeared late afternoon.

By dusk, their house was gone.

 

 

I would love critique on any and all stories, so feel free to comment.