The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Ted set up a row of chairs in the reception hall. Jessica plopped down on one and pouted. “This is all-kinds-of wrong.”
“Hey sis, ever hear of John Cram?”
“No.”
“Lemme educate you. John Cram patented the folding chair in 1855. Then in 1947 Fred Arnold created the first aluminum one and by 1957 his company was manufacturing—”
“Ooh, cram your history, Mr. Wikipedia.” Jessica gritted her teeth. Tears stung her eyes. “It’s just not fair.”
Ted hugged her. “You’re going to be a gorgeous bride tomorrow.”
“What about my garden wedding? It’s not supposed to snow in May.”
A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.
At twenty I had the requisite for motherhood—a husband and a womb. I danced for joy when the tests came back positive.
However, after Daniel’s birth, I resented him. I wanted sugar and spice. Instead, I got snips and snails.
One night, after putting the baby to bed, I turned on the television to an ad for flame retardant pajamas. Images of once handsome children, burned and scarred beyond recognition riddled me with guilt.
I bolted from the sofa to the nursery, gathered Daniel into my arms, inhaled his sweetness and whispered, “I love puppy dog tails.”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Millie Levy loved to learn about inventors. Famous or obscure. It didn’t matter.
“I wonder what Alexander Graham Bell would say about the iPhone.” She mused. “Or what Edison would think about LED lights.”
Millie’s brother Eli rolled his eyes. “Who cares?”
“I do. Get this. Maria Beasley invented a barrel-making machine in 1878. And J.F. Glidden was first to patent barbed wire in 1874. He made a fortune off cattle ranchers and farmers.”
Grandma Rachel pointed to the tattooed numbers on her arm. “I wonder what Mr. Glidden would say if he knew how Hitler used his precious invention.”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
“You didn’t, I presume.” Dale sips her Sangiovese.
“Beatles copycats created by NBC. Actors.”
“Not Kosher, eh?”
“As a ham sandwich. Like every other American kid, I glued myself to the TV, February 9, 1964, dazzled by the four lads from Liverpool. My 10-year-old heart floated on the clouds, unaware of any other guest stars.” I click a link. “Until now.”
“Anyone I’d know?”
“Ever hear of Davy Jones?”
“The Monkee? Sure.”
“He reprised his Oliver Twist role as the Artful Dodger that very night.”
“Who knew?”
I raise my glass. “Vive internet!”
*
*
The Monkees were handpicked by NBC for a silly television show to capitalize on the Beatles’ movie Help. Ironically, these four guys did become a band in their own right. And, for the record, I do enjoy their music.
R.I.P. David Jones – December 30, 1945 to February 29, 2012 😦
A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.
CHASING WATERFALLS
“What’s the secret to happy life, Grandma?”
“Never stop pursuing your seemingly quixotic dreams. Work hard. Play harder.”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
This week marks my 8th anniversary as Friday Fictioneers facilitator and my 5th anniversary as a retired sign maker/cake decorator. So I’m taking the liberty of sharing a twofer.
Genre: Hysterical Faction
Word Count: 100
HONCHO DORI
My coworker and best friend was fired for saying, of all things, “Hunky Dory.” Her flippant reply to my “How’s your day going?” at her register. I kid you not. The charge was “sarcasm to a customer and, therefore, misconduct.” Seriously?
The company’s plan to purge the “old folks” put a target on my back, too.
At an emotional low I joined Friday Fictioneers. I tried it. I loved it. By October 24, I inherited the blog challenge.
Eight years later, my friend’s victorious lawsuit is a story we retell with glee. Friday Fictioneers? Yep, I’m still steering the bus.
It’s still hunky dory with us.
YEE-HAW!!!
I ran out words to tell you my friend was fired March 7, 2012 and I joined Friday Fictioneers a month later on April 12.
****
Now for the second go around as promised. 😉 I posted this 24 October 2012, after inheriting Friday Fictioneers from creator Madison Woods. This was the only time I didn’t title my post with the date. I was told by a fictioneer that it was too confusing for me to post my title because it gave the impression that my title was part of the prompt. I complied and never saw her again. Go figure. There are some fictioneers who stuck with me, even though they were here before me. You know who you are. 😉 If I list them I’m bound to leave someone out. At any rate here’s my first story as facilitator. Same photo prompt.
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100
OF SIGHT AND SOUND
A stunning contradiction of cropped black hair, bronzed skin and sea foam blue eyes, Aggie McKewen’s face reflected her Inuit and Scottish parentage.
Keith, who worked at his uncle’s café in Seward County, Alaska, longed to speak to her but didn’t know sign language and she was fencepost deaf. Every Saturday he served her grilled salmon in shy silence.
After six weeks of night classes he felt ready to declare himself and asked her out.
With a voiceless giggle she snatched his pen and order pad. There she wrote, “I’d love to but why did you call me a tampon?”
A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.
Although this isn’t a true story, per se, it’s a reality for too many.
A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.
I’ve no doubt my friends who are writers will relate.
FAR AND AWAY
Her hair gleamed in the soft candlelight. Desire flooded him. No longer could he—
“Yoo-hoo, Mom.”
I flinch and stare at him. “What?”
He peers at me over his beer. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”
“What did you say?” I cut into my steak. “Mm. Underdone to perfection. I’m sorry, I had something on my mind.
My son, the professional wordsmith, winks. “You have the writer’s look.”
“What’s that?”
“Your body’s here, but your mind is far away in the hinterlands of your imagination.”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
My seventy-four-years-young grandmother walks beside me with a slight limp.
“Did you have an accident when you were a girl, Nan?”
“Polio.”
“Why aren’t your legs deformed like the kids in those old films?”
“I was only five at the time.” Nan’s eyes mist. “My mother defied our doctor, who wanted to shackle me with steel braces, and took me to one of Sister Kenny’s treatment centers. There they wrapped my legs in hot wool and forced me to exercise.”
“Didn’t that hurt?”
“Like hell.” She grins and skips toward the ocean. “Last one in the water’s a rotten egg.”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
The following story is a work of fiction. Sadly, it’s based on fact for too many people.
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100
DRIVING THE BUS
Amy brushed, flossed and swished Listerine around her mouth. Spitting it out, she watched the blue liquid swirl down the drain. She raised her head, stared at her reflection, baring her teeth. “Minty fresh. I really gotta stop this ralphing crap.”
She took a mental inventory of everything she’d eaten. Basically, she cleaned out the fridge. Twinkies, two toaster waffles, a banana, a cheese ball, three hardboiled eggs and so on.
She’d gotten the idea of taking Ipecac from a recovering bulimic’s book, meant to be a testimony of her victory over her eating disorder.
“Handy little ‘how-to’ manual, eh?”
*Glossary:
Ralph is slang for vomit. Driving he Bus is slang for the same.
Ipecac is a substance used to induce vomiting. Parents of small children keep it in the medicine cabinet in case of accidental poisoning. I had to use it once when my son was two.
Listerine, for those unfamiliar, is a brand of mouthwash popular in the States.
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple 