Hello! Here’s a little story to this week’s picture prompt posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for Friday Fictioneers. This is the conversation that came to my mind when I saw it:
Sally dumped her bin on the Post Office counter.
“Whatcha got today, kid?” Will asked.
“The usual. Packages. Some letters.”
“You guys still do that these days?” She laughed, but friendly good-natured Will was suddenly scowling at her, looking both angry and hurt.
“We’re doing our best,” he snapped. Instead of sorting through her bin right there while they chatted, he carried it to the back.
She waited, but he didn’t return. Finally she said, “Geez, I’m sorry. When did we all lose our sense of humor?”
“We didn’t lose it,” said the other clerk. “It was stolen.”
Try it! There’s a new photo every Wednesday or so. If you’re a writer, or even if you don’t think you are, it’s a good way to get the creative juices flowing. You don’t have to win a Pulitzer — just write a little story and post it on your website or blog — And please, please give credit to the photographer. They share their own work, no charge. Then click on the froggie and share your link on the Friday Fictioneers Inlinkz site. And remember, it’s 100 words or less! I can hear you writers groaning, but it’s a great way to practice Hemingwayesque brevity. Then read the myriad ways other people have interpreted the same picture. Comment and receive comments from them.
I look forward to each week’s new prompt. Both the photos and the stories keep me thinking, about people and everything else we deal with every day. Funny — I didn’t even notice the contents of the bin at first. Now that would have made for some humor!
The city streets were so cold. She’d walked forever, dodging people with bitter eyes and hunched shoulders. The fifteenth marquee didn’t even show the name of an upcoming play. She opened the door anyway and crossed the thin scarlett carpeting to examine the outdated posters. Faint music floated from somewhere.
“Lookin’ for somebody?”
She jumped. “Oh! No. Not
The woman looked at her muddy shoes and pinched cold
face. “You an actor?”
“Couple seasons. Back
“That’s more’n some of us.
C’mon, kid. You can watch us
rehearse. We got coffee.”