Category: Friday Fictioneers

Anna left the gym deflated. She’d imagined the conversation going differently on her way over.

“Don’t train women!” Butch yelled abrasively.

“Then let me be your first,” Anna pleaded.

“Why’d ya wanna get inta this gruelling sport anyway?” Butch snapped. “Ya know whatcha gotta put ya body through ta attain prime fitness?”

“They say you’re the best.”

“Get out!”

As Anna walked down the street, she felt a renewed sense of determination. She had survived her bellicose ex-husband’s beatings. This had made her tougher and formidable. Tomorrow morning, she’ll come over again and talk some sense into that old grouch.

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


He was shivering, not because of the cold (his car was warm because of electric heating), but because he was all nerves. He threw back his head, placed a Valium tablet on his tongue and washed it down with a mouthful of gin.

After ten minutes, the gun stopped rattling in his hand. He got out of the car, took a deep breath and walked over to the front door. It was ajar. He walked into the living room and found the naked bodies of his wife and her lover lying on the sofa, a bullet hole in each head.

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Tom hurled chunks over the starboard side.

“We haven’t even left the dock yet and you’re seasick?” Peter asked mockingly.

“This is just a dressed rehearsal, Buddy.” Tom replied irritated. “And by the way, it’s not seasickness. It’s water aversion.”

“So when’s the play?”

“What play?”

“The one you’re rehearsing for.”

“I don’t appreciate your facetiousness.”

“C’mon, it’s not as serious as it looks.”

“Try losing all your lunch to fish in ten minutes.”

“So what did you have for lunch?”


“You like seafood, but get seasick? Man, you have issues.”

“Yeah. And I’m feeding fish to fish too.”

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The village was in an uproar. Who could have committed such an abomination? How would Eguologo be placated? Aduloge, the High Priest, had been summoned by the council of elders for divination.

Jaws dropped at the revered one’s intoxicated dance as he zigzagged his way to the gathering.

“Aduloge, what is the meaning of this?” Nwalibe the wise bellowed.

“I cut down the sacred tree!” Aduloge slurred brazenly.

The crowd ceased murmuring, exchanging glances in utter bewilderment.

“I renounce my title as High Priest of Eguologo. The forest spirit can eat dirt for all I care. More palm wine please?”

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


It is true that our past has a bearing on the present and the future, but it doesn’t dictate it. We can all learn from our mistakes and take responsibility for our actions, then work at making our future better than before.

My friends and I used to hide in this building to drink and do drugs. It was a big world, but we thought we were bigger. We copulated like bunnies and did all manner of things with our bodies.

Now I know better. The shadows of the past disappear, when the light of responsible living shines on them.

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


I used to look for an adventure everywhere. At the park, I was on a battle field commanding troops, although the troops consisted of just Fred, my furry four-footed friend.

At the fair, I would let my imagination fly on every ride. On the ferris wheel, I would be on a spaceship touring the outer rim of the galaxy, looking for intelligent life forms; on the merry-go-round, an astronaut in g-force training; on the roller coaster, riding a bullet train.

I used to… The only adventure I have nowadays is behind my desk in a cubicle from nine to five.

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

We had this old picture in the hallway, reminding us of what Daddy said to us time and again.

He was an Arts History major and would tell us, “Creativity is every bit a part of our culture as a heartbeat to a living soul. Every brushstroke, every rhyme and rhythm, quaver or semi-quaver, the first chapter of every prose, begins with a single step. We dare to take this step knowing that in the long run, it will birth the next chapter of existential evolution.”

Art, he said, was an irrevocable manifestation of God, our creator’s likeness, in us.

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


The bond we shared was stronger than most because we dared to be different. While other couples fought and got divorces, we made fun of each other.

We would break out a bottle of wine, order in some pizza and talk for hours. And the one thing we knew best was how to have a good laugh. What made it a good laugh was having someone to share it with. It didn’t matter what it was about.

We grew old together laughing away each other’s troubles and pain.

Now my laughs are fewer because there’s nobody to have them with.

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“But I go to church every Sunday,” they tell me. “I pay my tithes and offerings religiously. I even give to the poor.”

“What makes you a Christian?” I would ask them again.

“I was born into a Christian family. My grandparents, parents, aunties, uncles and cousins are all Christians. I was baptized as an infant and have always been active in church. I sing in the choir, you know.”

“All these things are good, but they make you a Christian no more than parking a bicycle in a garage makes it a car.”

So… what makes YOU a Christian?

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“You idiot! How did you get yourself in this mess?” Ama fumed.

“Dear wife,” Kofi wheezed as blood spilled from his wound. “I need to confess before I join our ancestors. I’ve been sleeping with your sister for the past six months.”

“That’s alright Kofi,” replied Ama nonchalantly. “I’ve been sleeping with your brother since before we got married.”

“That’s fine, my love. I have a child with Esi.”

“My best friend?”


“Haha! Our son is not yours.”

“You wicked woman,” Kofi gasped.


“Hell is waiting for you.”

“But you see my dear husband, you’ll get there first.”

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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