Micro-fiction

Friday Fictioneers for May 3rd, 2024

Dear Mistress Rochelle,

Please excuse Mr. Bill’s absence as he was poetically abusing himself.

Sincerely,
NaPoWriMo

♥⇔♥

I could not pass up Ted’s excellent picture of a funny memory. Rochelle, from whose blog we all learn so well, can be found by clicking on Ted’s photo. From there you may, in May, write a micro-blurb story according to the rule of Her Fabulous Highness.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz — Click it to ride over to Rochelle’s Blog.

Genre: SNL Fake History
Title: He’s Gonna be Mean to Me
Word count: 100

The flyer said, “Script writers wanted: interviews, 8PM Saturday night, 30 Rock Plaza, studio 8H.” I went.

Before I knocked, I heard a high-pitched voice, “Oh Nooooo, Miss Sally. Do it again.” A female voice yelled, “Idiot! When I said, ‘Bite me,’ I didn’t mean for you to bite me, Dummy.”

I knocked. I heard banging and doors slamming. The squeaky voice said, “Please come in, Mister Bill.”

I entered. A stuffed doll in a chair said, “If you can script a skit, you start tonight.”

When I told him I couldn’t do that, he yelled, “Oh nooooooo, Mister Bill.”

Look both ways and remember nineteen-seventy-eight.
Mind the gaps but save the records, ducks, dolls, skits, and names.

The celeb ducks are (L-R) Freddie Mercury, John Belushi, Willie Nelson, and Jerry Garcia. Click this pic to read more stories.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers for January 19th, 2024

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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

 

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.

Click here to read more #FF stories.

From the movie, Same Time Next Year (Ellen Burstyn won a Golden Globe for Best Actress), 1978.

 

Friday Fictioneers for December 29th, 2023

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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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.

My favorite New Year’s movie scene.

Friday Fictioneers for December 15th, 2023

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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Rouchard

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.

Friday Fictioneers for December 8th, 2023

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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

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.

 

Friday Fictioneers for December 1st, 2023

For a December first kickoff, Fleur Lind and the sensational Rochelle, Mistress of the Friday Fictioneers Realm, joined forces in a flowerily display of automotive genius.

Click on the pic to taxi over to Madam R’s blog page for instructions on the care and feeding of planted stories of 100 words or fewer.

PHOTO PROMOT © Fleur Lind

Title: Advertising Inspiration
Genre: Fire Sky Fiction
Words: 100

***

 

It was all Christmassy in C-City.

I said, “Hey, Dewey. Let’s tow that old flatbed truck to your boutique and park it outside. You can put your potted plants on it and under the open hood. Maybe even displays or dressed mannequins in or on it. A Santa too, maybe?”

“It is not a boutique, Dad. Kind of, but not really. I don’t know if the city will allow it, but I can ask. It’s a great idea. How did you think of it?”

“When I woke up last Wednesday morning, it just came to me. Pure freakin’ magic. Right?”

***

 

Look both ways for ideas and plants.
Mind the gaps, steal like an artist, and bend the rules.

Click on Julie’s (Dewey to me) plants to read more aromatic #FF stories.

Photo courtesy of Fire Sky Arts, Colorado City, Texas

 

dVerse Prosery November 6th, 2023

We were to write a flash fiction story in exactly 144 words including a line from the poem, by Rita Dove called “November for Beginners.” The chosen line was “Snow would be the easy way out.” See the Poets Pub here. And other works of flash prose here.

I grew up expecting snow every winter. Sometimes crunchy—always white until later when it would die as wet, ugly, slush. I loved going outside and experiencing feelings that I only felt when I walked on a cold windless night in fresh snow.

It was always coming, and I knew that snow would be the easy way out—out of my life’s tiring and tedious problems (at least for now), as my insecurities about myself were silently made insignificant. It could never be more than one night at a time before the world’s reality marred snow’s existence and mine.

The snow didn’t know or care about my problems. I was welcome to be as I was with snow. While it made my world go silent, it seemed to hear me and to know what I needed without ever saying a word. We had secrets.

I suppose this is interior monologue rather than a story, but it works for me.

 

Friday Fictioneers for November 3rd, 2023

To begin the month of November in the crazy twenties of the twenty-first century, two favorites of Friday Fictioneers finest, Mistress Rochelle and “Dalectable” Dale, have inspired us with a two-way including Dale’s mysterious photo and Rochelle’s excellent watercolor painting of Dale’s wonderful shot. Wowzer! Ya gotta get in on this, right?

I’ve written of mysteries behind the green door before.

Click on Dale’s fun, green-door photo to open another portal to Rochelle’s blog page for this phenomenal adventure. While there, your thoughts can be expanded by her patent windows to purple wisdom.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Genre: Musical Parody
Title: Play Behind the Green Door
Word Count: 100

***

We knocked on the Green Door. A woman from Behind yelled, “What?

Marilyn said, “The Chambers to audition.”

“You experienced?”

I was indignant.

“We’re stars (Marilyn giggled). We audition at midnight for Jim and Artie Mitchell.”

She opened the door, “You’re old. Can you do longtime money shots?”

Marilyn dropped her coat and white dress. “Bitch, let us Behind the Green Door now or I’ll stuff these six-inch stilettos in every hole you got.”

The movie is scheduled for release New Year’s Eve with Marilyn and some dude named Johnnie Large in leading roles. I was hired as art director.

***

Look both ways but infer whatever you want.
Mind the gaps for the best porn,
but you must know what goes on behind the green door.

***

Click on the movie poster for a ticket to more 100 (or fewer) word wonders.

***

This is an 80’s, Shakin’ Stevens, version of the #1 song from 1956 , “Behind the Green Door” which replaced Elvis Presley’s “Love Me Tender.” So many have never heard of the tune, the movie, the books, and now Dale’s pic.

Friday Fictioneers for October 27th, 2023

For eleven years, Rochelle has been prodding fictioneer bloggers along with pics meant to inspire. That would be more than 570 Fridays to story. Thank you, Rochelle, the host with the most dependability.

Today she and Lisa Fox coordinated with a winter pastoral picture to stimulate our imaginations. So, we write on with between one and one-hundred words for Friday Fictioneers.

I enjoyed the Mama Cass video that Rochelle posted, and I decided to combine the two elements for a quickie #FF.

Click on Lisa’s photo prompt for Rochelle’s blog page.

PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

Genre: Musical Fiction
Title: JBL Voices
Word Count: 100

***

I was jamming.

“Creeque Alley” was blaring in my ears as I walked on a cold, crisp October day. I dug the snow, the fence, and my music. Wonderfulness!

I heard Michelle’s voice. “We never broke up. We just got lazy. Cass was the only one with any sense. Now everyone’s gone but me.”

I looked. No Michelle Phillips or Mama Cass—nobody. Just me and mighty fine folk music on a better day. I took the headset off and looked around.

I moved on—thinking, I knew she’d come eventually. But who can I tell about Michelle? Maybe Rochelle.

Look both ways to love the voices of the past.
Mind the gaps, but admit it, modern music “can’t go on indefinitely.”

***

Click on the “Zal and Denny workin’ for penny” pic to read more par excellence stories.

Friday Fictioneers for March 31st, 2023

To close out March and its fictionally lionized madness, our mysterious and mischievous Mistress Rochelle of the Wisoff Mermaids had synchronized and choreographed with Amanda Forestwood for us to play with a wonderfully musical picture using our own creative bow.

I sat and fiddled with this gem of a photograph before contriving a roguishly prankish story set in the summertime southern US of A.

Click on Amanda’s picture of a violin in a lawn chair to hear how to tune up your own strings and to play your own personal ballad, <101 word story, tale, or fib at Rochelle’s Purple Place of Passion (her blog).

PHOTO PROMPT © Amanda Forestwood

Genre: Christian Fantasy
Title: Summer Confessions
Word Count: A sinful 100

***

Ain’t no hooch at Preacher Hardingfele and his sexy wife, Lorena’s, Annual Southern Baptist July Fourth backyard barbeque, so I toted me a flask of Brother Jack flavored with lots of Old Pot’s THC lemon extract. I spiked Lorena’s punch, and she knew it.

To spank me, we drug a sunchair behind the garage. I was still fiddlin’ with Lor’s bra strap when her Preacher-man seen us. He got his gun, so I took to run and yelled about biblical forgiveness. I knew of his fornicatin’ Sister Betty Berliew, so I got away.

Every year, Hardingfele’s barbeque is more fun.

***

Look both ways if you’re going to play around with Preacher’s peeps.
But mind the gaps and them convoluted hooks on lovely Lorena’s bra straps.
Name your instrument according to how you play with it.

Click on the famous (or infamous) Lorena Bobbitt,
who keeps her knives sharp,
to link up with the squares and read more
masterful Friday Fictioneer stories.
(If you’re not familiar with this story, read all about it here.)

***

I wanted to give you the American Civil War song, Lorena, by Johnny Cash (or any number of singers and groups), but one is my limit. So, this couple playing their fiddles (violins are the same, but different) is too good to pass up.