Wednesday, 15 November 2017

Smoke Screen - A story in 100 words

Here's my story based on the photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers.

SMOKE SCREEN


PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
Sunlight reflected off dust motes as he picked his way along the ripped pavements, searching for clues.

Every night he stifled under the lazy scuff-scuff of a ceiling fan. In this country of gritty realism his own reality seemed nebulous.

Another day, another week. He trailed from embassy to police station. Empty promises. Empty platitudes. Yet, childlike, he grasped at their assurances.
Bewildered, he asked again and again: how can someone vanish so completely?

Ineffectual and trapped by grief, he remained in limbo, waiting for the city to lift its smoke screen and yield the secret of her disappearance.


I hope you enjoyed reading this and look forward to reading your comments.
If you would like to read more stories from Friday Fictioneer contributors click HERE
p.s. a quick plea to Wordpress bloggers whose settings require people to log in to their Wordpress account in order to leave a comment - this prevents Blogger users like me from leaving comments on your stories.

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57 comments:

  1. liz young15 November 2017 at 15:50

    I feel his desperation, Susan - a brilliant take on the prompt. You've beaten me to it - I've only just looked at the photo!

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  2. Susan A Eames15 November 2017 at 15:54

    Thanks, Liz. I checked the photo this morning and was astonished that there were already so many stories posted! But at least it spurred me on - and I decided to go for what I hope is a different angle. :)

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  3. James15 November 2017 at 16:04

    A tangible sense of loss and confusion. I wonder what the mystery is behind her disappearance?

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    1. Susan A Eames15 November 2017 at 17:52

      Some things remain a mystery in the world of missing persons.

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  4. Iain Kelly15 November 2017 at 17:30

    Great atmosphere of desperation, and I like the interpretation of the prompt.

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    1. Susan A Eames15 November 2017 at 17:52

      Thanks, Iain. This is exactly what I was trying to achieve.

      Delete
  5. Keith's Ramblings15 November 2017 at 17:47

    You've taken us right into the mind of your subject. Excellent Susan.

    Click to read my FriFic!

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  6. Lynn Love15 November 2017 at 18:05

    Oh, I love you writing here. Such an evocative description of his helplessness, his yearning for answers. Beautifully done

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  7. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields15 November 2017 at 19:15

    Dear Susan,

    Wonderfully written. Full of metaphor and tension. Great descriptions.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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  8. The Silver Fox15 November 2017 at 21:11

    I'm completely immersed in his frustration!

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  9. Susan A Eames15 November 2017 at 21:45

    Yes, he's in an impossible situation.

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  10. krawson15 November 2017 at 23:34

    Hope he gets his answers, though I fear it won't be the answers he wants. Really captures his plight.

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    1. Susan A Eames16 November 2017 at 10:15

      Thanks, Karen. I based the original version of this story on a real incident.

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  11. Sandra Crook16 November 2017 at 08:49

    I felt his despair. Nicely done.

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  12. Anonymous16 November 2017 at 13:00

    Loved the way you've written about his helplessness. Takes you and makes you feel for the character. Hope he gets some clues.
    Thanks, Norma.

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  13. Penny Gadd16 November 2017 at 16:15

    You describe beautifully the significant small details about the location that accentuate and exemplify your protagonist's sense of dislocation. The whole piece is perfectly paced. Excellent writing.

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  14. Susan A Eames16 November 2017 at 21:00

    Thank you for your kind comments, Penny.

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  15. Susie Clevenger16 November 2017 at 21:29

    Yes, I hope that smoke screen gets lifted. Unanswered is a whole hell of its own.

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  16. Susan A Eames16 November 2017 at 22:04

    Indeed it is, Susie.

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  17. D.Avery17 November 2017 at 04:19

    What Rochelle said. What Penny said. (They have a way with words about your way with words.)

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    1. Susan A Eames17 November 2017 at 12:50

      (They have a way with words about your way with words.)

      He he - that made me smile... and thanks for your comment.

      Delete
  18. Helen Laycock17 November 2017 at 08:48

    Super writing, Susan. I read it before I saw the picture... which it really didn't need for added impact.
    Well done!
    (By the way, it might be an idea for the website to be checked for 'mobile friendliness'; the beginning of the piece ran in a very narrow column down the side of the image.)

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    1. Susan A Eames17 November 2017 at 12:51

      Thanks, Helen, and thanks for the heads up about how it looks on a mobile! I only use my laptop for my blog, so had no idea. :)

      Delete
  19. Gardenlover17 November 2017 at 12:26

    I don't have high hopes of him getting answers. If the police can't solve it in a day or two it goes on the back burner. After that, if they find her it's purely coincidental.

    You did a great job conveying his emotions and frustration. I especially liked, "childlike, he grasped at their assurances." - Russell

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    1. Susan A Eames17 November 2017 at 12:54

      Thanks, Russell. I think grasping at assurances like we did as children is something we all do in the face of authority. :)

      Delete
  20. Snow's Fissures and Fractures17 November 2017 at 14:08

    Superb story, I enjoyed it so much.

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  21. Susan A Eames17 November 2017 at 14:28

    That's great to know, Lore. Thank you.

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  22. spicedmullings17 November 2017 at 16:21

    Beautifully worded pathos!

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  23. Alice Audrey17 November 2017 at 16:36

    This has a real literary feel to it. Well done!

    I'm with you on the Wordpress.com only thing. I use Wordpress on a platform I pay for. I still have my old Wordpress.com account, but it's not even a pass-through at this stage. Those settings mess me up, too. Thank you for offering the "name, URL" option so I can comment here.

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    1. Susan A Eames17 November 2017 at 17:38

      You're welcome, Alice. I discovered 'blog signatures' when I joined in the A-Z Challenge a couple of years ago and I've stuck with it ever since so that people can find me easily... if they wish to. :)

      Delete
  24. moon17 November 2017 at 19:11

    I would borrow Rochelle's " wonderfully written" for your tale.
    I feel for him. May he achieve a sense of closure and regain his lost peace.

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    1. Susan A Eames17 November 2017 at 22:50

      I'm glad you liked it. Thank you for leaving a comment.

      Delete
  25. Linda17 November 2017 at 19:21

    You've created wonderful atmosphere here. Intriguing.

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  26. Unknown18 November 2017 at 01:18

    What a good take on the prompt and you painted such vivid pictures you put us right in the scene.

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  27. Susan A Eames18 November 2017 at 09:28

    Thank you, Irene. The minute I saw the photo I knew there would be lots of 'fire' stories so I deliberately chose a different angle.

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  28. Claire Fuller18 November 2017 at 10:01

    I like the mystery in this. And the line: the lazy scuff-scuff of the ceiling fan. Wonderful

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  29. Susan A Eames18 November 2017 at 20:55

    Thanks, Claire. I've experienced quite a few 'scuffing' fans in my travels. :)

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  30. brudberg18 November 2017 at 20:59

    It has to be hell trying to find a loved one in a city like that... I see all kind of stories behind, but I'm leaning towards drug addiction.

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  31. Unknown19 November 2017 at 12:19

    I can feel his despair... poor guy. Nice take on the prompt!

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  32. Susan A Eames19 November 2017 at 13:21

    Thanks for your comment, Lavanya.

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  33. Clare Hempstead19 November 2017 at 15:08

    I love the description in this piece. Such a heart-breaking tale.

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  34. Susan A Eames19 November 2017 at 16:53

    Thanks, Clare. I learnt about descriptive writing when I was regularly writing travel articles.

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  35. Patsy19 November 2017 at 21:59

    Great story. Very emotional and sadly believable too.

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  36. Susan A Eames19 November 2017 at 22:34

    Thanks, Patsy. Yes, people go missing all the time. The not knowing must be awful.

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  37. restlessjo20 November 2017 at 08:11

    Awful! But in a very good way :) :)

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  38. Susan A Eames20 November 2017 at 16:04

    He he - had to read your comment twice! :)

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  39. Unknown21 November 2017 at 17:43

    So poignant and atmospheric. Really enjoyed reading this.

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  40. Magarisa21 November 2017 at 17:47

    Forgot to enter my name and URL in my previous comment – oops. I wanted to add that I loved this line: "In this country of gritty realism his own reality seemed nebulous."

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    1. Susan A Eames22 November 2017 at 10:10

      Hi, Magarisa - I replied to your first post before I read this one. Glad you're no longer 'unknown' and thank you for commenting.

      Delete

Many thanks for commenting. I appreciate your feedback.

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