C – Friday Fictioneers – Jetsetter

Hello everyone. My name is TRG and I am a FriFicaholic. It’s been a week since my last FriFic, and it’s been three and a half years since my first. Madison was my dealer in those days, but then Rochelle took over the global supply of prompt pics and has been pushing them into my inbox (and those of over 100 other addicts) since.

This week’s irresistible offering comes from Melanie Greenwood.

If you click here you can visit the world of the Blue Frog where FriFic addicts gather to share their stories. 100 words each, that’s all we get. I am also a member of the Concrit Subgroup – I crave your criticism and urge you to tell me exactly what you think of my tale, and why it didn’t work for you. Be honest, be brutal. I can take it.

Thanks for listening, I feel better for sharing. My 163rd FF follows.
See you all same time, same place, next week.

 

 

Richard appeared on my Skype screen, seated on a huge sofa and drinking straight from a champagne bottle. Two years into his latest tour, now growing rockstar hair and goatee, I hardly recognised my oldest friend.

“We’re playing Barcelona on Friday,” he said, “come out and see us.”

“I’ll book a flight,” I said, but Richard laughed the suggestion away. “I’ll get the management to sort the record company jet,” he said

As students we had marched against poverty and in support of the environment but now his life was hotels, champagne, private jets. I hardly recognised my oldest friend.

 

 

 

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