CFF – Bicycles, Tricycles, Motorcycles, Wagons

CFF – Bicycles, Tricycles, Motorcycles, Wagons

cffcIt has been quite a while since I participated in one of Cee’s Photo Challenges but today is the day I get back into my photography groove.  This week’s challenge is bicycles, tricycles, motorcycles, and wagons.  I did a deep dive in my archives and didn’t come up with much, so maybe between now and the next challenge (Tuesday) I will see if I can add a few more. 

This one has been used before but in black and white. I much prefer the color. A bit fuzzy because it was taken behind glass. Not to mention the several glasses of tequila I had before taking it. 

Exported (1 of 5)
Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding. Shot at Discover Mexico Park, Cozumel

My excursion to the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally a few years ago provided me with more photographs of motorcycles than I will ever need. I couldn’t decide on a singe cycle, so I used a group photo.

Exported (2 of 5)
Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding. Shot at Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, Sturgis, SD.

I’m not sure I would like traveling far in one of these wagons 

Exported (3 of 5)
Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding. Shot at Silver Dollar City, Branson MO

These old-school bicycles caught my eye. The bright yellow didn’t hurt.

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Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

More…

Exported (4 of 5)
Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

 

 

Destination: Survival

Destination: Survival

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a 200-word story based on a photo prompt. This week’s photo is courtesy of SPF contributor, Joy Pixley (thanks Joy!). Not to give anything away, but don’t the cacti look somewhat human? 

SPF 10-14-18Joy Pixley 3
Photo Credit; Joy Pixley

Madeline contemplated Derek’s crushed skull. As first dates go, this one sucked. Exploring an Arizona ghost town in the middle of nowhere appealed to Madeline’s thrill-seeking nature. However, Derek’s sense of adventure left much to be desired and by 2:00 p.m., Madeline insisted he take her home.

They had not traveled far down the dusty trail before the pop of a blown tire broke their silence. An apologetic Derek confessed he did not have a spare.

With only five miles to a major road, Madeline convinced Derek they should walk. With any luck, they would reach the highway before dark.

Luck, it seemed, was on holiday. The 100-degree heat and Derek’s lack of stamina slowed her down. The last thing Madeline wanted was to spend the night in the desert.

A large rock to the head solved her problem.

Madeline grabbed the near-empty canteen and headed out. As twilight approached, she detected something in the distance; an automobile parked along the road. Convinced she was saved, Madeline, chugged the remaining water, and raced toward the car.

As the last rays of light faded, relief turned to terror. The car she saw was Derek’s.

 

 

The Bargain

The Bargain

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a 200-word story based on a photo prompt. The photo this week was taken by a friend of mine who wished to remain anonymous

Seattle Terminal
Photo Credit: Sunday Photo Fiction

This was not how it was supposed to work.

Bill had looked forward to retirement; delayed gratification after years of frugality and self-discipline. He had played by all the rules; maximizing his contributions to his 401K and enduring a job that provided a good paycheck but no joy.

He sacrificed for his wife and children, providing them a good life.

He cared for everyone else for 40 years. Now it was his turn.

But when the diagnosis came back, his dreams died. Parkinson’s. A slow and debilitating disease.

You’re wrong! He protested.

It’s not fair!

Can’t you do anything?

The kind old doctor smiled. There is a way.

The details shocked him, but in the end, he agreed.

He arrived at the station, suitcase in hand. There were many others, like him, traveling to the crossroads. In his pocket was his down-payment; love letters from his wife. His most precious possession.

As the train pulled away, he closed his eyes and thought about what he was about to do. Once the contract was signed, he would have ten years of health, happiness, and prosperity.

It was his due, after all.

Who wouldn’t sell their soul for that?

Word Count = 196