A Moonlit Dance


Copyright – Janet Webb

Mrs Pry tsked to herself; that dress had been up there all week.  She had assumed at first that it must be some sort of Halloween decoration, but that apartment was still uninhabited.  Mrs Pry curled her lips and let the curtain fall, mumbling and grumbling to herself all the way to bed.

Mrs Pry was deep asleep when clouds parted and revealed the full circular moon.  And she was snoring loudly when the dress shifted, and floated up, making a bee-line across the city to where a pair of trousers and a shirt waited, ready for a dance.

For Friday Fictioneers; I loved the picture this week, so enthralling, but I keep thinking I’ve seen it somewhere, maybe on TV.  Oh well! Hope you liked the story.

Picture This…


Thunder shatters the skies. A lonely mansion stands atop a hill.  Inside, a marble telephone rings, its cry hardly audible above the ravenous storm outside.


Silence ensues.


Heavy breathing sets in.


The breathing now assimilates bellows propelling a simmering fire.

‘Seriously?  You called me at—what—precisely midnight to just breathe into the receiver? Can you be any more of a cliché?’

The voice croaks, ‘The call is coming from inside—

‘That’s. It.’ An eardrum-shattering whistle cracks like thunder through the speaker.

The line goes dead shortly after and the rest of the night passes on peacefully.


Copyright: Danny Bowman


For Friday Fictioneers where the prompt this week is the picture on your left.

The inspiration for this story came from a mix of countless horror movies and a little snippet from real life.  I’ll not go into details unless you ask me to, but I just want to say that blowing a die-hard whistle into the speaker does indeed result into the annoying caller hanging up with a moan of pain and a bad-tempered harrumph.

Exhibit C: An Earthling Bar


Copyright-Ted Strutz


‘Ladies and gentleman, kindly proceed to exhibit C… Thank you…

‘This is what Earthlings used to call a Bar.  Archaeologists have found evidence to suggest that in establishments such as this, Earthlings used to worship their ancestors.  Little is yet known of the rituals that used to be played out in here except that the essence of the dead humans was captured and stored inside the glass containers you can now see behind the long altar. The ancestors’ spirit was then ingested, producing a feeling of euphoria or dysphoria, depending on whether the spirit trapped inside was good or evil…’

For Friday Fictioneers.  A little hint of Sci Fi for you this week.  Hope you like the history lesson!

At the House of Bones


Copyright -Kent Bonham

Something was wrong with this house.  He’d felt it the minute he walked in; it was alive, hungry.

Voices rumbled, crowding Nate’s head in different languages; tongues.  But it was the skeletal faces that disturbed him most, staring down at him, eyes wide.

The rumbling took on a new note.  Nate looked up.  The dragon at the top of the stairs opened its jaw.  It dashed at him, slithering.

 ‘Ssh! What the hell’s wrong with you, man? Everyone’s looking!’

‘The stairs, Matt. Can’t you see?’

‘Damn! Let’s get outa here, before anyone else realises you’re stoned off your ass.’ Continue reading


He revved the well-oiled engine and bounced his brows in her direction.

‘You wanna ride?’

‘Maybe in ten years’ time.’

The engine attached to his bicycle coughed and died, as did his ego.

For Trifecta: ‘33 words about anything you want.  Your piece must include at least one hyphenated compound modifier.’  And here’s mine…thanks for reading.



Copyright-Janet Webb

‘And it just changed you say, miss?’

‘Yeah, like, it was so sick!  One minute it’s just this kinda nest, like for bees or something… next minute it’s this huge monstery thingy!’

‘Uhu…Can you describe the monstery thingy, miss?’

‘I dunno! Big.  Huge eyes. Teeth.  Lots of teeth.  Like, it was freaky! Just look at what it did to me.  Look!  What makes a scab like that, right?  Seriously….I dunno why it didn’t just eat me!’

‘Maybe it prefers blood with more IQ in it.’

‘Yeah could be, ‘cos I’m O positive. That I’m sure of!’

For Friday Fictioneers.  Hope you like it!