No Small Potatoes

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers for March 20 (We start on Wednesday each week, but there is still plenty of time for you to play along.). Our hostess, Rochelle, corals around 100 writers from around the globe as we respond to the weekly photo prompt with 100-word stories.

This week’s photo is provided by Rachel Bjerke.

My story this week weighs in at exactly 100 words and takes us to some place in Ukraine at some time in the future.

Copyright Rachel Bjerke

No Small Potatoes

“What is it?”

“An old distillery.”

“Must be pretty old—all overgrown with moss.”

“Not moss—lichens.”

“What?”

“Lichens.”

“So it’s edible?”

“Give you a mighty stomach ache if you don’t boil it first, but yeah, it’s edible.”

“Looks like a good place to camp.”

“Should be safe—for a night or two.”

“And plenty of food.” Lilia’s stomach rumbled, accompanying her words.

“Plenty of work anyway.” Mykhail wondered if he could coax a fire to burn here.

Lilia kicked at a rotted door, revealing some bottles. “Look! Vodka.”

Mykhail took a swig. “This should pair well with the lichens.”

Author’s Note: In all likelihood this photo really does depict moss, but in my research, I discovered that many times lichens and moss are mistaken for one another. Since only two known varieties of lichens are inedible, a survivalist story seemed the way to go. Then I learned something really fun about lichen cocktails HERE.

As Beauty Does

When Rochelle announced this week’s extension of last week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt in order to get more participation, I couldn’t resist writing another story in response to Bjorn’s lovely photo. This takes a significantly different slant on the picture, and I think the exercise of writing two different stories from two different genres based on the same photo prompt is an exercise every writer should attempt now and then. It’s good for the creative muscles.

In case you have not yet discovered the fun, the distraction, yea, the addiction that is Friday Fictioneers, pop on over to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ site and read all about it. Then play along with us by reading, commenting and even writing your own response.

Copyright Bjorn Rudberg

As Beauty Does

Before the Dissonance, Sondra’s mother often talked about the audacity of little yellow flowers. “Better a shrinking violet than an unsightly dandelion,” she would say, chiding her daughters over behavior she considered unladylike.

Sondra always held an appreciation for little yellow flowers. They were, after all, her favorite color, and many of them were also edible—including Mother’s scorned dandelions. Sondra appreciated their tenacity in the years when vain homeowners prided themselves on removing the “unsightly” plants from their yards.

When food grew scarce, Sondra silently applauded herself on never having uprooted a dandelion. Greens had seldom tasted so good.