Human Condition

Friday Fictioneers for November 11th, 2022

Yesterday was Election Day, or ED day (snicker), depending on your POV. Tomorrow (Thursday, 10 November) is the USMC birthday, and Friday is Veterans Day.

Our lovely and world-class author, artist, and story-teller-mom, Rochelle, has, yet again, teamed up with the Magical Mistress of Montreal, the fabulous photographer, gifted story-maker in her own right, and social butterfly, Dale Rogerson, to delve deep into our creative minds for flashes of micro fiction miracles.

After seeing Dale’s pic, you only need a monochrome click to be transferred to the bright purple world of Her Nibs blog to clear the dark fog from your mind and create your own story with fewer than 100 words, beginning, middle, and end. If you’ve read this far, what are you waiting for? Click on Dale’s photo for the codes of color.

Dale’s photo has her brand and copyright.

Genre: Gonzo Medical Journalism
Title: Thunderstruck
Word Count: 100

***

 

I wasn’t dreaming. I could see only faint monochrome outlines. Where was I? Was I dead? While conscious and lucid, I felt neither pain nor pleasure. I was weightless, but grounded.

She turned and smiled at me. I recognized her face. She said, “You’re back. I’ve missed you. Shall we dance?” We danced. When we kissed, I was thunderstruck.

I felt the jolt lift me. Then I heard her voice.

“Stop defib. No more shocking him. We have a heartbeat. He’s alive.”

A male voice said, “I thought he was gone for sure. Good job everyone. Welcome back, Mister Bill.”

***

Look both ways and decide your own reality.
Mind the gaps for shots and shocks.
We’ll be glad to see you again.

Click on the OR pick to read more wonderful stories inspired by Dale’s intriguing photo.

 

A twisted, and super-popular, little take on an AC/DC rocker covered by the hillbilly bluegrassers, Steve’n’Seagulls. (Turn the volume up loud and fasten your seatbelt.)

Monday’s Rune: Ardent Courage

 

Cheap, Quick, and Red

Liquor goes down easy
and fast
and way, way too smoothly
and too often takes folks
down ruin’s road.
So why do I?
Since it makes me so queasy.

And nobody loves a drunk
not even another drunk,
okay, maybe sometimes, maybe,
but not after they grow up
or get sober
and we or they make
such an unforgivable mess
and land in such an unrecoverable funk.

It’s best to drink beer—
after eating a full meal,
with dessert and coffee
late at night,
one beer or two might be all right
for you if you’re not
Irish or German,
but then—then what?
It’s gastronomically unclear.

Wine, it seems, might be finely biblical,
if it’s tannins
don’t give you headaches,
hives, or hallucinations and
if it’s warm, cheap, and red,
because white wine
tastes like fermented kerosene,
smells it too,
so we pretend it’s good.
My dearly departed friend,
Jack, held to the standard
that all Dutch courage
must be drinkable.

Good ideas are the worst
when you’re in your cups,
those delusional wonders,
which thankfully rarely occur
except in the tank
or the boot of the hearse.

Look both ways to find the source of the lie.
Mind the growing gaps as they turn memories eternally black.

A little Tom T with his famous beer song, may he rest in peace.

Sammi’s Weekender #284 (rule)

Click this graphic for more words from around the world.

 

Love Matters

You suffer loss
Heart breaks,
My love means
Tears of mourning,
Our common sadness rules
Two lives.

Look both ways.
There is a time to cry and a time to laugh, a time to be sad and a time to dance.
Mind the gaps for the lessons of both sorrow and joy.

Sammi’s Weekender #283 (dunk)

Click on the dunk graphic to discover other 78-word writings that include the word dunk.

 

Popularity

Sweatpants and fifteen-dollar
Wally-world slip-ons do the job
when I’m home alone and happy.

A child, I believed them
when they said I’d
run faster and jump higher

In them Keds,
for a tenth of what they pay
for fly higher and faster

Nike Dunks, which tell me
things and give me thoughts
they don’t want to hear or know.

Now you must love me. Ima woke.
I spent a week’s pay for
these kicks. Now kiss them.

I look both ways and wonder, am I the person I think I am?
Or am I a slave to popular marketing?
Mind the gaps before falling into a mentality where popularity trumps all things practical.

Sammi’s Weekender #282 (opposite)

Click on Sammi’s graphic to link up with her page for more 44-word poetry or prose.

Coincidentally, this is the second 44-word poem I have written this week. The other was for the dVerse quadrille challenge. Maybe it’s an omen.

 

Mom & Me

Mother always pointed out my difficult side;
that contrarian in me, not the exact opposite of good,
more like one who disobeyed, who pushed back,
because I saw life through my own eyes.

Today, I both regret and rejoice my
yin and yang personality.

Look at yourself both ways.
You may not be who you think you are.
Mind the gaps while searching for self.

While I enjoy this musical duet, I am struck by the irony.

 

Friday Fictioneers for October 21st, 2022

This week our magical Mistress Rochelle pulled a mare’s nest from order to muddle my muse and trigger my call to organization.

Texans might say I’ve been feeling puny (ill) for a few days, so I was uninspired until today (Friday – imagine that).

It’s all Rochelle this week as she scattered a photo of her own randomly into the blogosphere. If you think you’d like to push a stormy story of fewer than 101 words, find your way to join the free-for-all by clicking on her photo and seeking order at her purple patterned blog page. Click >here< to read other chaotic stories.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Genre: Therapeutic Fiction
Title: Bollix Minds
Word Count: 100

***

 

Why did you bring me here?

I wanted you to see this metaphor for your mind.

Ridiculous. I’m neat. I hang-up clothes, organize socks, and straighten art. My OCD would organize this fast.

Bill, you were arrested for tampering with a murder investigation. The judge ordered counseling as part of your plea deal.

I simply organized and cleaned up blood. The detectives got upset.

This chaos is how you see the world. Do you understand?

Not true. I do have leads on jobs.

Tell me more.

Stores want me to follow customers around and straighten things up after they pass.

***

Look both ways for all sorts of metaphors.
Mind the gaps and try to understand, things will never be perfect.

This musical bit (If the youtube will not play for you, try this imbedded link.) brought a chuckle to my mind and almost a bit of relating to the song.

Friday Fictioneers for October 14th, 2022

The sweet, delightful, and flashy Mistress of Fiction, Rochelle, has prompted my muse with a bit of rain for the second week in a row. Combining strokes from her purple lane, she has splashed the Friday Fictioneer gang with a Roger Bultot picture of a modern, colorful, children’s playground park, seemingly after some precip.

Feel free to dive into our un-juried pool of players with your own fiction of fewer than 101 words. Avoid any litigiousness by giving Roger’s pic a gaveled tap, which will sentence you to review the brief code of conduct behind the purple bars on Rochelle’s blog page. You may want to get setup to be served weekly with a summons write early each Wednesday morning.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Genre: Shakespearean Fiction
Title: Time for Pettifoggers
Word Count: 100

 

I took my nephew, Dicky, to the playground after the rain had stopped.

He said, “Everything’s all wet, Uncle Billy.”

“Water keeps the insufferable brats and bullies away. Now, go play.”

“There’s lots to climb on. But why no swings or rides?”

“Lawsuits. The lawyers forced the city to take them all away.”

“What are lawyers?”

“People who profit from the misery of others.”

He ran off to play on the wet climbers and such.

“After this,” he yelled, “the first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.”

“A noble goal, Lad. You’re a chap after the old bard.”

 

Look both ways for the future of the young.
Mind the gaps and dangerous traps, but a life without risk can be dry and vapid.

Note: “Let’s kill all the lawyers” is a line said by Dick the Butcher in William (Bill) Shakespeare’s Henry VI (Part 2, Act IV, Scene 2). It is among Shakespeare’s most famous and most controversial lines.

Click on the cartoon to fire up more wonderful flash stories by the fantastic Friday Fictioneers writers.

 

Monday’s Rune: Columbus Day

Got Yer Number

You sailed the ocean blue.
In fourteen-ninety-two,
and whatnot.

We love you less.
Five hundred years later
and your victims more.

A national Monday holiday
in a land and country
nonexistent for another
three hundred years.

One you never heard of.
One you’d never understand.
One with statues and tributes
to you for getting lost.

Facts are facts.
History
less of a mystery.
And me,
‘avin’ ta work on
Saint Paddy’s
of all troublesome things.

Look both ways and try to appreciate reality and history.
Mind the gaps they drive deep to hide the truth.
Some heroes just suck.

Friday Fictioneers for October 7th, 2022

For Yom Kippur and the first week of October release, our wonderful server, Mistress Rochelle, and boss lady of Friday Fictioneers has selected a David Stewart dining room photo from her menu and served up a challenge for us to roast some fine micro or flash stories of fewer than 101 words long.

Please read mine below but click on David’s pic to be seated at Rochelle’s perfect purple blog café where you may order up some artful items. We try to abide by and to play nice as we swim in our own creative lanes.

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

 

Genre: Pervert Fiction
Title: Rainy Day Rip
Word Count: 100

***

It was a lovely day. I’d made special arrangements—a table for two near the windows. I planned to propose.

After we were seated Margaret said, “Why did they seat us here? I hate this miserable rain.”

“What? I told you I’m a pluviophile. I’d manage our religious and political differences.”

She replied, “I thought you said pedophile. As in pedicure and pedestrian. I thought you were kinky about feet.”

I could feel my temples throbbing.

“That’s podophile. I’m also a logophile who’ll get you a subscription to the Collins dictionary. I also think we should start seeing other people.”

***

Look both ways within the pages and on the screens for the dictionary meanings of words.
Mind the gaps to avoid any rainy-day confusion.

Click the girl dancing in the rain to breeze over to the squares where you’ll discover more excellent stories.

 

Monday’s Rune: For Sale or Trade

No Quid Pro Quo

I have nothing at all to sell.
Or to trade.
I walk alone because
we must.

It’s just me
with my own thoughts,
maybe music or a book,
as I deal with some pain.
A good thing,
claim my many doctors.
Not the pain—the dealing with it.

I like the thought of it—alone time,
but it’s not. Not really.

The Universe, also not for sale,
is with me. Always with us.
I call it being alone
because it makes me feel good,
but I know

I am never totally on my own,
without a piece of eternity
talking some quid pro quo.

Look both ways when dealing, feeling, or logrolling.
Mind the gaps between your steps and use the poles lest you fall and break your nose.

 

An oldie and a goodie from Mr. Poe.