When His Heart Stopped – Friday Fictioneers

Well now.  This is a rarity.  —Not my waking up at stupid o’clock and not being able to go back to sleep.—  But to surely find myself on the first row of the “Hollywood Squares” as our buddy Russell calls them…  As always, thank you to Rochelle for hosting this crazy bunch!

I’m sorry to do this to you.  I had to “go there”.   I won’t bother pretending this piece is not wholly true so I’ve kept all names real.  I cannot believe my life changed so drastically three years ago this coming December 11th.  And when I saw my own picture as the prompt, I just dunno what happened.

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Mine!

Genre:  True Story

When His Heart Stopped

The phone rang.  “Ya, Dale, it’s Armen.  Mick collapsed.  He’s at Santa Cabrini Hospital.”

“What do you mean he collapsed?”  Fear gripped her heart, sending shards of ice throughout her veins.

“I dunno.  They called me.  They are checking him now.  Tony’s with him and they have questions for you.  I’m on my way and will meet you there.”

She Googled the address, dressed and left, thankful both boys were at school.

Tony met her at the entrance and guided her to the registration.  “He had a heart attack at our shop.”

Her own heart sank, somehow she just knew.

 

Boys Will Be Boys – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my friendly readers.  I’m actually up and at ’em earlier than usual this week.  I don’t usually read any other stories except Rochelle’s but for some reason, I read Sandra’s this morning and glad I did as I almost went the same route!  I’ll have none of that.  Well, not on purpose, anyway!  So… I’ve gone a totally silly route to honour our local funny man, Russell… Of course Russell supplied a toilet pic.  Boys grow up to be big boys, don’t they?  Thanks for dragging us into your bathroom!

And, always, thank you to Rochelle for trying to keep us all in line week after week.  I know, we ain’t an easy lot! 😉

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©Russell Gayer

Boys Will Be Boys

How about this one?

“Beans, beans the musical fruit

the more you eat, the more you toot!

The more you toot the better you feel.

So eat your beans at every meal!”

Or this one:

“Beans, beans are good for your heart

the more you eat, the more you fart!”

The boys giggled.

“Dog smells his own poop first!”

You should know, ‘coz:

“You smelt it, you dealt it!”

Wait… Remember this one?

“Why fart and waste it,

When you can burp and taste it?”

 

Mom shook her head.  What was it with boys and their obsession with toilet humour?

Kondo vs McCartney – Friday Fictioneers

Good afternoon, my Peeps!  Hope all is well in your necks of the woods this fine, though dreary (in this part anyway) day.  You ‘Muricans prepared for your turkey and for the madness that is Black Friday?  I’ll just watch all a y’all from over here, if ya don’t mind.  We Canucks have already done the turkey-thing.  That shopping craze has crawled over our borders but I’ll skip it.  Unless I decide to partake of any supposed savings on-line, from the comfort of my office chair.  But then that would create more stuff.  Oh, what am I talking about?  Read on, my friends, read on…

But first, thanks to our fabulous leader Rochelle for herding us week after week and for this week’s photo!

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Kondo vs McCartney

Today is the day she puts Marie Kondo’s words to the test.  Jennifer McCartney’s way had gotten her nowhere.  Yes, McCartney’s book was a spoof of Kondo’s, she knew that.  It was hilarious.  Her house was NOT a total disaster of stuff.  Everything was important.  She needed her stuff.  Really.

Yes.  Hold lonely slipper – I’m sure the other one is in the house somewhere – thank it for its service, then decide… keep it?  Or chuck it?   But what if she found the other one?  Then what?

This was so stupid.  Time to call a professional de-clutterer.  She obviously needed one.

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In all fairness, you may not have read the books I am referring to…

#MeToo – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday evening, my Fellow Friday Fictioneers and Fabulous Followers!  Today’s story is somewhat outside of my usual fare.  I don’t often (if ever) use today’s “in the news” things but this one just came to me.  To think I was going in a totally different direction when I first saw the pic.  Might go crazy and do a second one with that first idea.  We’ll see.

Thank you always to our fearless leader, Rochelle Wisoff (no “e”) Fields for keeping us coming back week after week.  And this week, Rochelle chose a most interesting picture from J. Hardy Carroll so thank you to him for allowing us to write our 100 words based on his pic.

Should you wish to read other versions, please click on the Blue Frog.  If you want to join in on the addictive fun, click here for the rules and regs…

©J. Hardy Carroll

Genre:  Realistic Fiction

Word Count:  Toujours 100 Always

#MeToo

“Wooo hooo!  Hey there Hot Stuff!” followed by a loud whistle.

She ignore him and moved on.

“That’s a smoking hot body you got there, Girlie-Girl!” from yet another in the same group.

On she walked.

“Oh baby!  Gimme a hose to put out the fire you’ve lit under me!”

They were persistent, she’d give them that.  Seething inwardly, she squared her shoulders and kept on, totally ignoring them.

Their cat-calling continued, getting dimmer the further she walked.

Finally, all was silent as she turned the corner.

Taking a deep breath she shook it off.

As so many women have.

 

Before you leave

Every now and again, something comes into your – space – for lack of a better term – that touches you.

Thank you, David, for sharing this on your blog so I could share it on mine.

Live & Learn

Josh Farrow is an Illinois-born kid who played punk rock music as a teenager, eventually headed to Nashville in his early 20s to chase after his future wife — pulling triple-duty as lead singer, songwriter and ringleader.  He is inspired by the New Orleans funk of Allen Touissant and the Chicago blues of his hometown — chasing down success on his own terms, bringing with him a sound that’s smoky, soulful, and signature.

“Before You Leave,” was a finalist in the John Lennon Songwriting Competition.  

This old house feels empty
There’s nothing I can hear
But the sad and silent echo
Of better years

I feel something breathe
In this dead and hollow room
It’s just this heavy old heart
That’s hanging on you

So before you leave
Darling, won’t you le me down easy?
Before you go
Won’t you help me ease my achin’ bones?
So before…

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The Workout – Friday Fictioneers

Good Friday, mes amis!  I cannot lie.  I was stumped for this one.  Like, totally.  However, I decided to let my mind wander a bit and came up with this silly little one.  Hope it makes you laugh.

Thank you, as always, to the fabulous, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting this shindig weekly.  And this week, my thanks go to Marie Gail Stratford for this lovely photo – even though it stumped me!

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©Marie Gail Stratford

The Workout

Samantha looked up at the building.

“You have lost your mind.  You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?  It’s a great way to get in shape!”

“Dude, we work on the twentieth floor!”

“Right!  Our legs, butts and cardio will be top-notch for our vacation come March!”

“But—“

“No — butts, as in Buns-o-Steel, baby!” Suzie laughed.

“Twice a day, five days a week?”

“Yes, we’ll encourage each other.   We could even do it at lunch—”

“No!  Do not even go there!  Twice per day will be more than enough!”

“I knew you’d come around.  We will totally rock in our bikinis.”

 

The Right Choice – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday evening, my Peeps!  Was not at all sure where I would go with this one.  Then Rochelle said one word and that was it.  I knew exactly where I was going!  Thanks, Rochelle!  Not only does she host this weekly shindig, she unknowingly gives us a little noodge when we need it!

Come and play with us by adding your own version of a 100-word story to go with this lovely photo supplied by Sarah Ann Hall.  Click on the blue frog to add your link.  If you want to know the how-tos, just click on Rochelle‘s name.

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The Right Choice

They are spectacular, don’t you think?

Yes, I do… but don’t you think they are a tad umm too fancy?

Well, why not?  Doesn’t he deserve something fancy?  Something to show how much we love him?

Yes, he does deserve the best but truly, it does not represent him at all.  Think about it.

He’d laugh.  I can just hear him say:  ‘Look at them, getting all fancy-pants over me!’

Lord knows he had a sense of humour.  However, none of these will do.  THIS, however is perfect!

An old COKE BOTTLE?  You can’t be serious!

I most certainly am.

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For those of you not in the know… a few years before my husband, Mick, passed away, he presented me with an old glass Coke bottle (he collected Coca Cola stuff) and told me he wanted it to be used for his urn one day.  We never expected it to happen that quickly but I did respect his wishes…