WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS.
As always, writers are encouraged to be as innovative as possible with the prompt and 100 word constraints.
Henry David Thoreau said it best.
“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”
********
THE CHALLENGE:
Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count. However, I respectfully ask for your consideration. Please refrain from taking the liberty of posting 200 words or more as a Friday Fictioneers story. Thank you.)
THE KEY:
Make every word count.
THE RULES:
- Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
- MAKE SURE YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. (Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
-
- ***PLEASE MAKE NOT IN YOUR BLOG IF YOU PREFER NOT TO RECEIVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM***
- REMINDER: This page is “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” and is NOT the place to promote political or religious views. Also, you are responsible for the content of your story and policing comments on your blog. You have the right to delete any you consider offensive.
**Please exercise DISCRETION when commenting on a story! Be RESPECTFUL.**
Should someone have severe or hostile differences of opinion with another person it’s my hope that the involved parties would settle their disputes in private.
-
***********************************************************************
😦 Note: Please limit your entries to 100 word stories that pertain in some way to the prompt, Last week I pulled one links that had nothing to do with Friday Fictioneers.
************************************************************************
-
- Like us on Facebook
My story follows the photo and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and relish constructive criticism.
- Shalom,
Rochelle
Genre: Memoir
Word Count: 100
ONE TIN SOLDIER
Dear Hank,
Remember how we saw Billy Jack four weekends in a row? I always thought you imagined yourself to be a bad-ass who could kick the hell out of injustice. And with the black belt you earned in Taekwondo, perhaps you could have.
After graduation our paths diverged. Letters, phone calls and occasional visits kept us connected.
When I learned of your fatal crash I reeled with disbelief.
You were the epitome of masculinity, but you were never afraid to cry. Your tears at my attempted suicide infused me with an indomitable will to survive.
Thank you.
Love,
Roach
Hi Rochelle – At first sight of this week’s photo prompt..I said to myself…Oh, that poor car…until I read your story. Another good one, Rockstar…albeit sad and thought provoking.
Question…how come you never responded to my first Ebook, MISTY ROSE??? Just wondering.
Hugs, Lora
________________________________
LikeLike
Dear Lora,
This one’s entirely true and had me in tears as I wrote it.
When your ebook first came out I tried to download it to my iPad and couldn’t seem to find a way. After that I got distracted. How’s that going? I’ll try again. I’m considering smashwords when I have 100 flash fictions as one of my publishing options.
Shalom
Rochelle
LikeLike
Great story, loved the letter approach.
LikeLike
Dear Rosie,
It started out as a narration but that felt cold and impersonal. Glad you liked it.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Sad story of a great character. Very well written.
LikeLike
Dear Indira,
Many thanks. Indeed a sad story…still cry when I think about my friend.
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Very moving take on the prompt. And the ‘open letter’ approach was a flash of inspiration. I’ve always found that very hard to do, but you pulled it off. Well done.
LikeLike
Dear Sandra,
Your comments are always among the ones I appreciate the most. It started out as a narration which seemed flat and impersonal. This is the second time I’ve done a letter format. I wouldn’t do it often but in this instance it was the only way to go. Thanks for dropping by.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
It suddenly became very powerful when I realised it was true, and the description took onnew meaning. His nickname for you was poignant…and there’s another story underneath that one,isn’t there…
LikeLike
Dear Managua,
The answer is yes, there’s a lot more story there. It makes me happy that you intuited that.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Thanks Rochelle for the story I love the memory of the legend of Billy Jack and how generation was going to make a difference in the world against corrupt greed and hate and war.
Sorry I was not there for you, in your times of trouble soul, and I glad you with us the world would be one less candle for joy without you.
Laugh out loud until it hurts.
Shalom
Tim Ward
LikeLike
Dear Tim,
Thank you for your sweet comments. I don’t think we ever realize how much we touch another, do we?
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
This certainly invokes a lot of emotion. Sometimes when people put some of their personal life into their stories, it can feel a little uncomfortable, but this piece is beautiful, and speaks to me a lot. I don’t really feel like I’ve ever had a Hank, but I can certainly imagine the kind of pain that would follow a loss like that.
LikeLike
Dear Miss KZebra,
As Joni Mitchell so aptly wrote, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.” I don’t know if I realized how dear Hank was until the day I got the news he was gone.
I’m grateful for having lived through some self-inflicted hard times. Thanks for commenting.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
I figured this one to be less fiction and more non, and I liked the easy flow and honest dialog you embraced to make a great response even more heartbreaking, though life-affirming. God bless, Rochelle.
LikeLike
Dear Troy,
It’s all non-fiction. I thought of you as I wrote and posted. I’m pleased it touched you and I’m grateful to be alive to share it.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Dear Rochelle,
I am beyond honored, and touched, that you thought of me while writing this. My heart thanks you, dear =)
LikeLike
Knowing that this flash is not fictional breathes even more power into it – the raw emotions are evident, the loss, the pain.
I think the letter is a great approach to speaking this story out in the form of a personal narrative.
LikeLike
Thank you, Neens. It seemed the way to go. A narrative was just too impersonal.
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Dear Rochelle,
There is so much heartbreak in this story, I’m all out of words. I don’t know why, but there is something about the death of a friend we’ve moved away from that gets us right in the stomach. I momentarily played with the idea of writing a very different story for my FF entry this week, and now I wish I’d had as much courage as you.
As with all great writing, it’s the details that make this piece so vivid – the first and last lines in particular, and the nickname which leaves another story untold.
Jen
LikeLike
Dear Jen,
I’ll admit to shedding a few tears in writing this piece. Some people leave footprints that will never be washed away. Hank was one of those although I don’t think I realized to what extent until he was gone.
I’m glad you didn’t change your story this week. It was wonderful and evoked a lot of other emotions for me.
Many thanks for your comments and compliments.
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
It’s always the inspiration within the sorrow that is really the most powerful and the sweetest. This story leaves me inspired as well as wondering and wanting to know more, Rochelle. And as in all your stories, you always give us the tantalizing tip of the iceberg.
LikeLike
Dear Linda,
High praise indeed from a writer I respect. I believe P.T. Barnum is credited with saying, “Always leave ’em wanting more.” Your words warm me.
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Such a sad but powerful tribute Rochelle.
LikeLike
Many thanks, Joe.
LikeLike
a great story. there is absolutely no way that a human being can read this and not be affected, in a sad and even positive way.
LikeLike
Dear KZ,
Thank you for your sweet, affirming comments.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
only the good die young…
– the memories you write are beautiful and poignant
LikeLike
Dear Leslie,
So the saying goes. However I lost a friend a couple of years ago who was in her 90’s–full of life. She was most certainly the contradiction. But yes, Hank was young, too young. Thank you for your kind words.
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Hello darling,
Sorry I missed everyone last week, but here I am. I love that you experiment with different styles and genres (and you write the saddest stories known to woman — but that’s okay, I like sad stories.) I haven’t seen Billy Jack in ages, but remember singing One Tin Soldier in school choir.
Thanks for the memories, and for the sad story.
H
LikeLike
Dear Helena,
Your comments make me smile. I love experimenting with styles and genres. I love the song. Might just be the best thing that came out of that movie. It sill haunts me. Perhaps because it will always be a reminder for me.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
I like the format Rochelle but still found it sad.
LikeLike
As was my intent, Gabriella. It was a sad time. Glad you liked the format.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
I loved the format of this. An open letter is a great way to deal with emotions, especially grief. It allows you to get it all out
LikeLike
Dear Carrie,
This is actually my second time to use the letter format. Although the first time it was fiction. This one was pure fact. Glad you liked it.
shalom,.
Rochelle.
LikeLike
Dear Roach,
This is a powerful story of an interesting life, and a wonderful eulogy. Loved the form.
God bless,
Jan
LikeLike
Dear Jan,
Your comment makes me smile. Roach was my nickname in high school I don’t hear it much anymore, but I don’t remember Hank ever calling me anything else.
shalom,
Rochelle/Roach
LikeLike
Amongst the many wonderful things about this community one thing that stands out for me is the way that people like you share your pain, your joy and your humour through your honest and heartfelt words. It makes me feel amongst friends, and miss you all when I’m not here.
LikeLike
Dear JWD,
Reading your words makes me smile. One of the best things about Friday Fictioneers for me has been the friends I’m met.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
🙂
LikeLike
Hi Rochelle,
This must be one of those letters you write but never mail, because as far as I know there’s no delivery to the afterlife. But maybe FedEx goes there. Creative story with a nostalgic feel. Ron
LikeLike
Dear Ron,
Billy Jack looms large on the nostalgia horizon for me. Happy to know the story felt that way for you, too. I’d like to think that somehow, some way, Hank is reading my letter.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
hey, that’s a new jersey license plate. and i loved billy jack. “epitome of masculinity.” that’s singable. well done.
LikeLike
Dear Rich,
Nice to see you here. Good catch on the NJ license plate. This is one of Roger’s many stunning photos from Hurricane Sandy.
Glad you enjoyed my story. Yep that was my lifer Marine friend Hank. Nothing if not macho but I knew that very sweet side of him.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Nice, a person who helped make you who you are today, never forgotten. Perfect style to showcase it.
LikeLike
Dear Ms. T,
It’s too easy to take people for granted and think they’ll be around forever. Hank’s death was tragically sudden at at time when I thought I wanted to die. Thank you for your generous words.
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
You do jump off the high diving board every time! Sometimes I really have to search to make the connection, but this one was quite connected and bittersweet – which is pretty usual for you. nice letter…
LikeLike
Dear Lindaura,
Nice that you used the diving board analogy. It makes my Spanish Dancer self smile. Glad you made the connection.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Fantastic story Rochelle. In my youth I lost a lot of friends to car accidents, suicide, and a heart attack. They called my town Death Valley. Doesn’t matter if you lost one or a dozen though. No one will ever call you that nickname in quite the same way he did will they?
Love, Renee
LikeLike
Dearest Renee,
You hit the nail on the head. No, no one used my nickname quite the same way because they don’t have Hank’s voice. I still hear it on the whispers of my memory. He was a beautiful soul. Not the only friend I’ve lost but certainly the only Hank.
Many thanks for your comments and insight.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
You’re welcome my dear. I’m sure after writing the eulogy, you experienced a profound sadness. I hope you are over it now and have found your smile again.
LikeLike
Dear Renee,
You’re one perceptive lady. Writing this was hard and, at the same time, cathartic.
LikeLike
❤
LikeLike
Dear PB,
Thanks for including the song. I always loved that ballad. I went to high school with a guy whom nicknamed Roach, this made me wonder what became of him. Looking back, we were very idealistic. I don’t see that with today’s youth and their apathy makes me sad.
Well done (once again) – Ted
LikeLike
Dear Ted,
I hadn’t thought much about it, but now that you mention it, I don’t see that idealism in today’s youth. They seem to have complacently accepted things as we left them. A guy nicknamed Roach? I know what mine’s short for…what was his real name? Thanks for dropping by and commenting.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Full of strong emotions, strength from strength – there are those whose passing we will never hear about. That saddens me. Once so close, they will go without my knowing. You made me feel that.
LikeLike
Dear Erin,
Your comments touch me deeply. Thank you.
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
One horrific loss, one happy save. Good story, Rochelle. (Hard to believe everything written here is based on fact–you project such a positive attitude in your personal posts.)
LikeLike
Dear VB,
I’ve been wanting to answer your comment, but not until I could do better than an iPhone.
I do have a positive outlook, for the most part, as we all have our ups and downs. However, in 1996 when this all took place, I was as close to death as I’ve ever been. I was in the hospital the day Hank, having only recently visited in person, called. He could hardly speak. After a soft “Hi Roach” there were only tears until he told he loved me and didn’t want me to die. It was the last time we spoke.
How ironic that he died instead.
As with all healing, mine was a process, not an event. I have a loving husband who stubbornly stood beside me and others who cared. But you could call that last conversation a wake up call. It wasn’t just about me. I was hurting more than myself.
For those in 12 step programs, I think this could be considered “sharing my experience, hope and love.”
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
A lot to go through at one time: a personal life trauma and the loss of a close, supportive friend. You were fortunate to have a wonderful husband and caring extended family. And we’re glad everything turned out well so we can have you as our FF leader. Take care, Rochelle.
LikeLike
The ending may not be a happy one, but it is a good one nonetheless. The thought of having someone to geniuely remember us after we are gone is a soothing one any day. Well done.
LikeLike
Many thanks, Charles. 😀
LikeLike
A wonderful glimpse into a friendship’s untimely end. (Loved Billy Jack, too.)
Here’s mine: http://unexpectedpaths.com/friday-fictioneers/socratic-method/
LikeLike
Thank you, Maggie.
LikeLike
Poignant piece. The letter was the perfect vehicle to deliver your flash. Sorry for your loss, thankful you are here.
LikeLike
Dear Patti,
Thank you. I’m pretty thankful to still be here, too. Came way too close to “success” in my attempts to starve myself to death.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Wonderful piece… and a letter like that really is a great form even if it’s hard to see who to send it to.
LikeLike
Dear Björn,
Glad you liked my letter. Yes, postage is pretty high to mail it. 😉
shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Dear Rochelle
This was a great way to deliver your story. The fact that this is a ‘memoir’ makes the telling of it even more poignant and not without pain I guess.
Thank you for shaing this
Dee
LikeLike
Dear Dee,
It was the story I had to tell once I chose the photo. Admittedly, it was a kind of painful to write and, at the same time, healing. Thank you for commenting.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Dear Rochelle,
I enjoyed the letter form for your narrative. I wondered if that came to you from the beginning? I think it’s powerful this way. It packs a punch.
Amy
LikeLike
Dear Amy,
I’m glad you enjoyed the letter and glad you asked the question. No. I didn’t start out with the letter. I started with a first person narrative. No matter how I wrote it seemed anemic. Then, driving to work, it hit me. The story needed to addressed to Hank. Hence, the letter. It was an emotional write for me so I’m pleased it resonated with you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
A letter always seems to make the words more powerful and heartfelt. As this is something from your past it makes it even more heart wrenching.
LikeLike
Dear Jackie,
I’m pleased you dropped by. This was one of the harder pieces to write. How do you distill a person’s life and your relationship with him down to 100 words? Glad that it worked for you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
This is a great piece of flash. The end is so neatly tucked in the narrative.
LikeLike
Dear Pratibha,
Thank you for your comments and, again, welcome to the Friday Fictioneers family.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
You’ve done what it is not at all easy to do, to share something so very personal. I admire you for that. And great writing as usual. Ann
LikeLike
Thank you, Ann.
LikeLike
🙂
LikeLike
So much has already been said that I’ll simply say you know my thoughts about these personal stories. I remember “Billy Jack” and the song and you put a sad but completely personal touch to it and the story.
janet
LikeLike
Dear Janet,
Thank you for taking time out from your travels and schlepping to read and comment.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Rochell,
Fantastic take on the prompt. It is amazing how the truth of life can open our hearts, minds, and expand our creativity. Thank for sharing something so personal.
Tad
LikeLike
Dear Tad,
I believe everything happens for a reason. I still don’t know why Hank was killed when I was the one trying to commit suicide in a most painful way. In any case I’m in a good space now and those life experiences are not only grist for the mill, but, perhaps, messages of hope for someone else. Thank you for commenting.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike