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Story Time – Friday iFictioneers

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It’s Thursday, so it’s Friday Fictioneers time – one day late or one day early, you choose!  It was the perfect day to clean out my garden (I’ve the scars to prove the roses resisted my efforts) so I forced myself to stay away from the computer.  This came to me as I soaked away my aches and pains.  Good thing I had my cell nearby to type out my rough draft!

So… Thank you Rochelle for both hosting and providing this second-hand photo (first for me, though).  Any of you want to join in, click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to.  Or, just click on the blue frog to read more wonderful stories!

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Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Word Count:  100

Genre:  Memoir with extras

Story Time

Though still light outside, Mama lit the oil lamps.

“Night falls so quickly,” she explained.

Turning to my grandmother, I begged, “Oh, Mémère, raconte-moi une de tes histoires. Je t’en prie!”*

“Chérie, you already know them all off by heart!” she laughed.

“Surely not all of them – please!”

She patted the seat beside her, beckoning me. I ran across the room and snuggled next to her warm, comforting body.

“Which one do you want tonight, ma ‘Grande Bardiche’?”

“Tell me one I’ve never heard before, like the one where, to help put food on the table, you were a bootlegger!

*Oh Granny, tell me one of your stories. I beg of you!

As for the ‘Grande Bardiche’ – my grandmother called me that and could (would?) not give me a proper explanation.  Thanks to the Google, I have found out this is some kind of pole weapon, which now makes sense as I once was a tall string bean of a girl…

39 thoughts on “Story Time – Friday iFictioneers”

  1. Thank you so much for re-kindling my childhood memories with my nonna 🙂 It’s stories like these that remind me of how precious those memories are, and how much I miss her 🙂 Lets enjoy every day that we’re here with our most cherished family and friends. Thanks for your story, it warmed my heart! XOXO

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    • Me, an interesting personality? Nah… I ain’t got nuthin’ on Noëlla…my biggest regret is not writing down all her stories when I had a chance.

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  3. I too, wish I’d paid more attention to the stories I heard when I was a youngster. Now, all I can remember is bits and pieces–except for the dirty jokes–I still remember most of those. 🙂

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  12. It is lovely to have such memories. I really hope that the art of telling stories verbally will hold out against modern technoligy.

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