Friday Fictioneers for July 1st 2022

To kick off the lyrical month of July in the year twenty twenty-two, Mistress Rochelle stayed close to home again by drafting from hubby and sending us a photo of a 1960 International Harvester pickup truck, credit to her musical goy-boy-toy, Jan Wayne Fields.

Some folks name their cars and trucks, even the ones used to earn some extra college moolah in the mid-1960s.

Click on the flower truck for a ride to Rochelle’s page to see the root cause of Friday Fictioneers. (PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields)

Genre: Flowerchild Fiction
Title: Poppy Redux
Word Count: 100


I paid little attention to my surroundings as I picked out flowers.

I heard, “Hey asshole. Long time, no see. How’s it hangin’?”

“Poppy?” I looked closer at the pickup.

“Holy shit. You must be over fifty.”

“Sixty-two. I’m haulin’ flowers now. No more runnin’ grass like with you guys back when.”

I said, “Sorry, man.”

“No worries, Bill. I’m the new chick magnet.”

The flower farm guy walked up.

“Hey man, how much you want for this rust-bucket, farm boy, pick ‘em up?”

“She ain’t for sale.”

I smiled, “He. Poppy is he or him. Now, what’s it gunna take?”


Look both ways when you hear familiar voices.
Mind the gaps, but buy it, build it, make it, or take it.
Whatever gets your ride to roll.

Click on brother Bert’s smile to be picked up and driven to other wonderful 100-word (or fewer) stories.

Sammi’s Weekender #249 (recipe)

Click on Recipe to check out other’s writings on Sammi’s menu page.


Make it So

Kitchen? check!
Hot oven? check.
fixin’s? double-check.
recipes, bowls?

Got ‘em to go.

bakin’ pans
yeah boss!!
ready to roll!
gots crunchie munchies.

pack a bowl, pizza’s comin’.
“Hey, you gunna bogart
that stash all night?”

Look both ways when you pass the bong.
Mind the gaps and lower the lights.

Friday Fictioneers: January 28, 2022

Rockin’ Rochelle tempted me with another of her personal pics to inspire this Friday Fictioneer micro-fantasy. In keeping with my bad boy image, I decided to make it a deal.

Click on her foodie (prompt) photo to buzz on over to her place for the good stuff.

Click the PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for a trip to Rochelle’s blog.

Genre: Micro-Fiction
Title: Family Business
Word Count: 100

I’d had a good day at the restaurant. I met some sweet ice and tips were awesome. I decided to visit Cowboy on the way home.

When he opened the door, “Hey Cowboy. How’z it hangin’, Kemosabe?”

He looked both ways. “Don’t call me that. It means idiot. Get in here. Cash only until this virus shit is done. You got green?”

I smiled, waving two bills. “My green for yours, amigo. What you got fer me?”

Someone banged on the door. “Open up. Police.”

I said, “Well, fuck!”

Cowboy said, “Nah. It’s my cousin. The man don’t never knock.”

Look both ways and learn the ropes, cliché or not.
Mind the gaps and lock the door.


Click on Matthew McConaughey in “White Boy Rick” for transport to all the fantastic fiction you’ll ever want to read, in a flash.