Tattoo Not So Cool

“Do you see that?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“A big oven.”

“What do they cook over there?”

“….things.”

“What kind?”

“…mostly… bricks.”

“I’m Micky and you are….”

“…No. 7.”

Micky gave a puzzled look.

“Yah! That’s my name. See this,” said no.7 as he extended his right hand, “they tattooed it in my wrist.”

“That’s cool. My mom says I’m too young to get myself tattooed. You look my age. How did you convince your mom?”

“I didn’t. They just did it.”

“How….”

“You ask too many question,” said no.7 and vanished like a smoke.

Micky screamed “Ghost! Ghost!” and ran like a weasel never to check this spot again.

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Copyright – Marie Gail Stratford

Rochelle Wisoff- Fields-Addicted to Purple is the place where every Friday a photo is shared with an aim to write a fiction around it in 100 words or less. Anyone who wants to participate can click at FRIDAY FICTIONEERS to know about the rules.

Today’s photo is a contribution from Marie Gail Stratford.

A great thanks to both Rochelle and Marie for today’s Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to all my readers for their time and comments.

Call from her

Barbara Beacham is the kind host of Monday’s Finish the Story. Every week a photo and the first sentence of the story is shared and the challenge is to finish the story in 100 – 150 words. Thanks Barbara for this week’s photo and the challenge.

Finish the story begins with:  “Arriving at the beach, she reflected on her life.”

“Why am I here? What am I doing here?” she said.

She took out her cell phone.

“My sweet baby. Why did you leave us and go? I should have protected you from everything. I’m your mom.” she said.

With a heavy heart she started walking towards the sea. She stood deep in it. The dark blue water first ate her body and then slowly swallowed her head. Her eyes… now closed.

She was happy; she was running after her little baby.

“Don’t go away Jamie. Come to mommy.” she screamed loudly.

“Are you alright, hon?” asked James.

“Oh! It was Jamie. I so wish that I never wake up from these dreams. It is the only time that seems real to me.”

James took her in his arms as she cried the whole night.

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Copyright – Barbara Beacham

A great thanks once again to Barbara. Thanks to all my readers for their time and comments too.