Friday Fictioneers for February 3rd, 2023

We’re iced-in over (down) here in Texas, which means it is our bi-annual week of winter.

While Rochelle is recovering from strokin’ too hard, she has rattled our senses with an Alicia Jamtaas photo taken on a lovely romantic day. Our gig now is to write fewer than 101 words telling the stories that our muses whisper to us as we look at Alicia’s pic.

If your muse is tugging at your mind and makin’ you wanna play, click Ms. Jamtaas pic to dance on over to Rochelle’s blog page where you’ll get to read all about it.

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

Genre: Dream-dancing Fiction
Title: There She Was
Word Count: 100

***

It was a hot one. I was minding my business, walkin’ down the street, snappin’ my fingers, shufflin’ my feet, feelin’ the beat.

I saw her sitting there. My heart stopped. We waved. It was love. Music played. We danced. We started callin’ out round the world. Everybody was dancing in the street.

If this is a dream, may I never awaken. I called to her, “Baby, let’s make it real.”

We did with all the music playing, we were all singin’ and dancin’ and hot , hot, hot. She yelled, “Carlos, I love you. “I said, “my name’s Bill.”

***


Look both ways but love may be sitting up above on yonder windowsill.
Mind the gaps but (flash mob) dance when you can.

Click on the salsa dancers to flash on over to the inlinkz page for more hot stories.

AND, A little Smooth guitar from the great Carlos Santana to better tell the whole story.

Friday Fictioneers for September 2nd, 2022

To slip nicely from the end of sweet summer sweat and August’s heat into September’s pre-Labor Day weekend; her magnificence, Rochelle of the purple addiction, and Wednesday Wonder Woman, has cast a David Stewart late night photo for all to see and to be mused into a fictional tryst for Friday.

If you wish to try a fib, a lie, or you have a story to aspire, click on David’s photo, and you shall flash over to the blog of our magical mistress to learn all her secrets.

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

My tale grew from an effect echoed by a favorite musical afterglow. Fans of the band or the song may glean the tune from the nature of some lines I borrowed.


Genre: Musical Fan Fiction
Title: Programed to Read
Word Count: 100

***

Shimmering lights lit the shed.

Don pointed. “There’s the doorway. Step inside. Say, ‘1969.’ Another door opens to a colitas casino.”

I said, “Gambling’s legal. Why the drama?”

“Libraries are underground since books and music became illegal. Dancing to remember is forbidden.”

I did as he said. I heard happy voices. Such a lovely place with music and books. I asked the librarian, “Could I check anything out?”

She lit a candle and replied, “Such a lovely face. Relax. We are all prisoners here programmed to read. You may check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

***


Look both ways.
Saying it will not happen again doesn’t mean it won’t.
Mind the gaps for fears in the middle of the night, just to hear them say,
“Bring your alibis.”

Click on the Eagles “Hotel California” poster to zip to links for more great flash/micro fiction stories.

***

This is not the Eagles, but cred to their song by buskers Sherlock and Rodrigues. My deep apologies if this YouTube fails you, I don’t know how to tell if it’s banned in Boston, London, or Montreal.

 

Friday Fictioneers for July 8th, 2022

Our Friday Fictioneers Mistress Rochelle has spun up her own spinning version photo for us to spin a yarn that cottons to your imagination. But fair warning, some songs stick like wax in your ear.

Click on Rochelle’s picture to wheel on over to her blog for the finger pricking principles of our weekly 100-word (or fewer) stories.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Genre: Musical Fiction
Title: Why Women Kill
Word Count: 100

***

Stop talking in circles.

I’m not. I’m making a point. You interrupted me.

If you don’t know, just say so.

If you see something, say something.

What? That has nothing to  do with it.

Spinning Wheel got to go ‘round. Ride a painted pony.

If you don’t stop this shit, I want a divorce.

Drop all your troubles by the river side, on the straight and narrow highway.
Okay, what’s your question again?

Where do you want to go for dinner? What movie do you want to see?

Let the spinning wheel spin.

(Frustrated) Fuck you. I’m out of here.

***


Look both ways on traffic circles and two-way roundabouts.
Mind the gaps when you buy mushrooms at the farmers’ market.

Click on the loving couple for more stories about spinning or something.

***

A little retro music for those who may not know the song.