Lillian is hosting today and prompts a 44-word poem that must include the word imagine (or a form thereof). Click here for the pub page or here to find more quadrilles.
Dip Stick
When I heard that our friend Jack
was charged by Olive
with checking Sally’s oil,
Sarcastically I said,
(with a semi-evil grin below a slow eye roll)
“Imagine that!”
I’d bet that Jack’s measure of success
was how often
Jack got that Willie wet.
Look both ways because some fools just cannot stop what they do.
Mind the gaps when you check your dip stick for fluid levels.
Click the graphic for Sammi’s page and more 53-word writings.
The Young Die in War
Into the turmoil of war, he went.
That young man in love with a dream,
showing his loyalty and patriotism,
what he can do for his country,
his tribe, his people, his gods.
Willingly, eagerly,
into the hazy war he went,
returning home bagged as meat and bone,
into the war he went.
Look both ways in school but keep asking, keep your mind aware,
why are we… why do we?
Mind the gaps in the destruction and rubble and remember why.
From the pages of Mistress Rochelle’s blog comes a Jennifer Pendergast photo prompt of ladled ice in a frozen spa bucket to inspire us all to contrive a story of not more than a hundred micro-fictional words.
Click on Jennifer’s picture to skate on over to the Purple Blog for a dousing of the simple rules of entry into the welcoming warmth of Friday Fictioneers.
Genre: Romance
Title: August’s Commandment
Word Count: 100
They met one August while she was visiting family back east. There was some talk, wine, a dance, and time alone; eyes met, and after that, a kiss. Then, a sexual tryst. Their love grew, but full-time togetherness was not to be, except each August, same days, same place, same passion.
A few days each year for another fifty years, they met repeatedly. They discussed their polyamory as each was awkwardly enmeshed but still loved their family and were otherwise devoted to a loving spouse back home.
One day a letter arrived. Only memories now. But never again. No regrets.
Look both ways at fact and fiction as neither provides the full story.
Mind the gaps in the years, for love knows no limits.
Rochelle is flying solo for today’s Friday Fictioneers picture. Click on the New Year ball to be dispatched over to her blog page where the timetable and schedule of how to be all-aboard the #FF bullet train to her grand central player’s squares. Just write fewer than 101 words and you’ll be riding on the City of New Orleans.
Genre: Historical Friction
Title: Characters in Control
Word Count: 100
In 1907, Katie and William boarded the train in Philadelphia for New York City’s first New Year’s Eve Ball lowering celebration from atop One Times Square. They were excited to be part of America’s celebratory history.
They worried little about New York’s train safety, including one major crash in February.
As they stepped off the train in New York, Kate asked William if something was wrong. He looked ill and lost.
“I don’t know, Darling. It’s like some future writer started a story about us but stopped when he realized that he knew nothing about New York City in 1907.”
Look both ways and pay due diligence to how we got to where we are.
Mind the gaps in the tracks and cross-tie walkers.
Click on the New Year’s party in KC to read more stories.
Click on the window to open up into Sammi’s page and other windowisms.
The Side I Never Met
Floating through darkness
I saw a light
in the black universe, one
dot, then
I determined
it was a window.
A woman was there.
She seemed to look but not see,
her blue eyes were calm.
I sensed
honest love, like a mother.
I could see longing—expecting
in her moist eyes.
Then I saw
the window was
a mirror of reality.
She was my reflection,
able to see into my past.
She was the image of the real me.
See both ways when looking through windows or into mirrors,
especially as metaphors of life.
Mind the gaps, the cracks, the wrinkles, and the patina of age.
Everything means something.
The mid-December and Hanukkah Holidays are upon us as we celebrate Sandra’s birthday. Susan Rouchard submitted a dark, artful, candle-lit pic for us to ponder and then create our 100-(or fewer)-word story to post.
Click on Susan’s picture prompt to burn-out on your way over to Rochelle’s artful blog to get all curated up on the magic of Friday Fictioneering.
Genre: Feline Fiction
Title: The Museum Fire
Words: 100
***
They ran like cats out of hell. Tonto turned right, skidded left, then jumped through an open door. Duchess followed. Fat Jack barely made it before the dogs got him.
Tonto said, “I don’t know why we run, Duchess. They’ll catch FJ. We’d be long gone.”
Jack tried to hiss and arch his back but couldn’t.
“Leave him alone. He runs interference.” Moaned Duchess.
“Where are we?” asked Fat Jack.
“Oh, candles! Where do I start?” said Duchess.
“I’ll take the top shelf.” Tonto leaped up. “You two start knocking over the lower ones.”
They concluded the fire was arson.
***
Look both ways and light a candle before you curse the darkness.
Mind the gaps for the curious and destructive cats.
Click on the running cats to read more masterful stories.
Ted Strutz contributed a photo of shoes for this week’s #FF prompt. As she does each week, the wonderful water lady in the purple lane, Rochelle, has challenged us to write a micro-fiction story (≤100 words) and to post the same among the squares of honor.
To join us, click on Ted’s pic and walk right on over to Madam’s blog page to get all laced up on the path to a successful Friday Fictioneers career. The pay ain’t great but the benefits are awesome.
Genre: Norden Fiction
Title: Barefoot Rhapsody
Word Count: 100
***
Her mother said, “It’s time. Get your shoes on. Let’s go so you can sing them to tears.”
Angelina replied, “I’ll sing for America, Mama—mostly for Simon. I sing barefoot.
“What if you step on a nail? Have you had your tetanus shot?”
“Singing barefoot is what I do. It promotes singing, and people love it. So, please; no shoes.
Father, help me.”
Father smiles. “Angel, this is Norway. It’s January. Wear the boots. Before you take the stage, remove your socks and boots. We will be there to hear you make them cry.”
The angel wore the boots.
***
Look both ways and dress appropriately.
Mind the gaps and listen to the lady sing.
***
Singers who also often sang barefoot include Linda Ronstadt, Patti LaBelle, Bjork, Deana Carter, Kelly Clarkson, Joss Stone, Shakira, Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz, Colbie Calliat, Jewel, Krist Novoselic, Carly Simon (often but not always). If this Angelina Jordan video doesn’t make you feel something, put your shoes on and leave.
Click on the lovely Linda to barefoot on over to the links to read more stories prompted by the photo.
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