Photo copyright Jan Wayne Fields

Bill and Marge were amassing vast quantities of iPhotos, gleefully recording every moment of their first real vacation in more than two decades. This morning, as their ship cruised into New York Harbor, they’d lowered the phone long enough to appreciate the rising sun glinting off Lady Liberty’s crown.

Now the pair were backed against the grimy wall of a seedy alley, watching the noonday sun glint off a wildly waving knife blade. “You can have my iPhone,” Marge soothed the desperate crackhead as she surreptitiously snapped his photo, “just let me upload our vacation pics to the Cloud first.”

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The Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, come each week from the four corners of the world to submit a 100-word story inspired by a photo prompt.

Photo copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Daisuke’s life had been so orderly, a time and place for everything. The 5:37 train to his Sendai office six days a week. Monday night movie dates with girlfriend Hiroko. English lessons every Tuesday and Thursday after work. Obligatory drinks with coworkers at the izakaya on Fridays. Saturday night karaoke. Dinner with his parents on Sunday.

Then came March 11. Every neatly compartmentalized aspect of his life shaken to its core. No electricity, little water, dwindling fuel. His office declared unsafe for occupancy. Hiroko dead, three coworkers missing. The izakaya swept out to sea.

Disorder has become Daisuke’s new reality.

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I’ve been away from Friday Fictioneers for a month, and I’m feeling pretty rusty!