Wonderful Williams the Weather Wizard

(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 10, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page, hosted by Barbara W. Beacham
(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 10, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page, hosted by Alastair Forbes.

There was a magician on the sidewalk. He called himself ‘Wonderful Williams The Weather Wizard.’

He was astonishing. He wowed the crowds with illusions and magic tricks that the world has never witnessed before. He summoned miniature tornadoes and air sprites. He made soft fluffy clouds form around himself and then he vanished, only to then materialize from thin air afterwards. The crowd were enthralled and thoroughly entertained. They were calling him a genius for inventing such tricks.

But of course, I knew they were not just merely tricks. They were real.

I was watching him from opposite the road, disguised as a gardener watering the plants. If anyone looked closely, they would notice the water emerging from my fingertips, not the hose.

He was one of us, I’m certain of it.

I raised my head to the sky and focused, making the rainbow appear. Soon, they will be here to collect him.

Word count: 153

Wonderful Williams the Weather Wizard

Introducing Annabelle White – FFFAW

(c) Dawn M. Miller
(c) Dawn M. Miller.  Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers (FFFAW) April 29, 2015. The picture takes you to the Challenge page, hosted by Priceless Joy.

Night fell and claimed the land with its shadows. She was free to roam once more.

Burgers, she thought, I have an appetite for burgers today.

She left her hair wet and dripping, just how she liked it, and proceeded to don her favorite white gown. She loved the reactions it elicited from passers-by, especially the males.

No, not wolf-whistles and seductive looks. That’s not what she’s about. She’s all about the jumps-of-terror, the petrified looks and the effeminate squeals.

Oh, I love the squeals. I hope I hear one tonight. She smiled wide as she relished in her imagination.

She slipped into the empty passenger seat beside a charming young driver as he collected his take-away set meal.

“Is that a Swiss Mushroom Whopper? My favorite!” She let the scent of warm mushrooms invade her nostrils, which made her mouth salivate and stomach rumble ravenously.

The set meal was now hers, and she retreated to her lake, her home.

Meanwhile, Timmy rushed home, his stomach unsatisfied, his eyes wide with fear, and with a story to tell, but without proof apart from his memory. Oh, and the drenched passenger seat in his car. Annabelle was real sloppy, wasn’t she?

Word count: 200 😦

Introducing Annabelle White – FFFAW