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18 Again – Friday Fictioneers

Yes siree, it’s time for Friday Fictioneers.  A time where writers of all sorts get together and tell a story inspired by a photo.  This week our hostess, with the mostest, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, author and illustrator extraordinaire, has chosen one from Al Forbes.  Where does this image take you?  Care to let us know?  Do please click on the blue frog and give us your version!  No? Well, you can still read other fabulous stories anyway!

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©Al Forbes

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  100

18 Again

Ethel’s rheumy eyes watched the old Model-T tied up on a trailer and was 18 again.

When George pulled up with his “newfangled” car, Daddy near as had a fit.

“Who does he think he is, showing off in that god-awful machine?  Too high and mighty to go ’round in a horse and buggy like regular folk?”

But George had such a charm, he won Daddy over near as quick as he had me!  Next thing you knew, George was teaching Daddy how to drive!

Too bad Daddy wasn’t near as good a driver as George.  Tree came out of nowhere…



86 thoughts on “18 Again – Friday Fictioneers

  1. Very funny Dale and true to life. I remember a policeman congratulating a friend of mine when he came off the road, for managing to hit the only tree for miles around.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Great story, Dale. My father was born in 1909. He had a great story about running through a fence on his first driving lesson. Those old cars had no gas pedal, just a throttle to set the speed. Thanks for bringing back that memory.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is lovely and charming, but I also worried about Dad and George. These days, when a tree jumps at you full frontal, you’re dead. Back then they weren’t that fast… but they didn’t have airbags either. Or seatbelts.

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  4. Very charming, the story as well as George. I liked seeing through Ethel’s eyes and how you immediately make her age and position clear.
    If I can offer a little suggestion, I felt there was a bit of switching about in terms of tenses and pov, that could have been tidied.
    But the story itself is first class. I’m so much enjoying getting to read more stories today. It feels like a while since I’ve read all my favourite authors!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Glad you enjoyed..
      I allowed myself to change the tense as Ethel’s memory would jump back and forth while in the moment…
      Really? You are counting me in your favourite authors? I’m chuffed!


  5. Great story, Dale. Trees will do that. My dad tried to teach my mother to drive in the 1920’s and she ran his car off the road into a field. That was enough for him. She never did learn. Well done. 😀 — Suzanne

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  6. Oh my word, that reminds me of Mister with his sudden acquisition of an MG convertible last year. He said he’d always wanted one and it was now or never. Fortunately all the trees are still standing in our neighbourhood!
    That’s a sweet and funny story, Dale. Am smiling 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

        • Ha ha… It is just a convenient label. Let’s call it a “life-is-short-so-do-it-now” thing… Like that is why I am going to Tuscany!!
          And truly, it is better when they keep a youthful exuberance…Mick was like that and I loved it.

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  7. I had a moment like that during my only accident. I swore the fence posts came out of nowhere. All four of them. It really feels as though the characters been wrenched into a memory. Nicely written.

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  8. I guess that’s just what happens when you’re racing along the highway at nearly 17 m.p.h!

    I loved the story. I’m imagining a happy ending, with Daddy, George and the tree all fine at the end.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I do try, on occasion, to give a little twist! I was surprised that most people didn’t see the death! And that’s a good thing… interpretation of a story. I like it.

      Liked by 1 person

  9. I’m coming in with my 2 cents way too late; but the good news is no one will know! But I want you to know I laughed heartily with the last line! You set it up well and just like the tree, I didn’t see it coming!.

    Liked by 1 person

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