Seeing Things – Friday Fictioneers

Good Thursday evening my peeps!  Just got back from a little four-day get-away in Woodstock so… needless to say, I’ve got it on my mind 😉  I know, I know, I had it on my mind before leaving as my previous story suggested!  And yes, there will an official “My Visit to Woodstock” in the very near future, once I’ve organised my pictures.

I could not very well diss this week’s FF as it is my picture that our lovely leader chose.  Thank you Rochelle.  Come play with us.  Just click on the blue frog below and add your 100-word story based on this picture…

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Seeing Things

She had spent a restless night, tossing and turning.  Woodstock songs played in a loop in her head, driving her nuts – to be expected, she had watched so many videos about the event.

Finally giving up, she got up and opened the curtain.  Gazing out at the weak morning sun peaking through the haze, she noticed what looked like the body of a naked female, shining on the house next door.

Whipping around, she was half-certain she would see one of the flower children standing there.

Laughing at herself she thought “And yet, I didn’t take the not-quite-good brown acid…”

Sing Like a Caged Bird – Friday Fictioneers

Worked an 11-hour shi(f)t and am a tad wired. It’s 1:00 a.m. and I can’t sleep. This story swam in my head on my way home. After some deliberation, this is what I came up with. 🙂

Thank you, always, to Rochelle for being the ultimate cat-herder with this unruly group! This week, she chose Liz Young‘s photo. Last time I checked, it was July and not October which makes this choice all the more fun and challenging. Smooth, Oh Purple One!

Care to join in on the fun? It is, you know… Fun that is. And when people read your stories and comment on yours, as you do theirs, well, the joy is multiplied. So, do not be shy, click on the Blue Frog below and add your link. Easy-peasy!

Copyright ©Liz Young

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Sing Like a Caged Bird

“Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don’t fence me in…”

“Shut up!”

“No? Don’t like that one? How ’bout:

‘She’s in the jailhouse now…
Ah-di-o-dalee-eehee-dee-o-ti!'”

For Chrissakes… you are so not worth this agony. Stop!”

“What? You kidnap me, lock me up, hope to get who knows how much moolah from my folks and you want me to keep quiet? Screw you! I’m useless to you dead.

“I’m stuck in Folsom Prison
And time keeps draggin’ on….”

“Fine, Little Birdy, sing. You ain’t getting out ‘til your folks pay up.” He left, closing the door behind him.

Joie de Vivre – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning!  Is it as HAWT and HUMID in your neck of the woods?  Lord love a duck… I know, I know… enough about the weather.  Still…  While thanking my lucky stars I have air conditioning and a pool (not that anyone but me wants to venture outside to use it…) I cannot help but feel for those who are melting away in their hot domiciles without it.

Oh!  And to all my American friends, Happy Independence Day!  Enjoy and stay safe!

Thanks as always to Rochelle for hosting this here party weekly (even when she has a houseful of guests!)  And thank you to J. Hardy Carroll for the use of his photo.

Come on, what do you see when you look at the picture?  Does a story come to mind?  Then by all means share it by clicking on the blue frog below!

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Joie de Vivre

Some people just can’t be contained.  Life throws them curve balls that would leave others rolled up in a ball crying on the bathroom floor.

Blair was such a guy.

He believed that life was an adventure filled with wonderful things.  Life was good and what you made of it was your choice.  You could focus on the negative, and no one was exempt, or focus on the good.

“One person’s lost leg is another person’s lost child is another person’s lost puppy,” he’d say. “No one can judge that one person’s pain is worth more than another’s.

“Let’s dance!”

 

 

 

Love Song – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday afternoon, ladies and gents!  The sun is shining beautifully here on the south shore of Montreal.  Tomorrow it is supposed to rain cats and dogs and then we are expecting a week-long heatwave starting Friday…  I’ll try to enjoy today as much as I can before work!  That said, before I go back out there and attack the weeds, I share with you this little 100-word story based on our hostess with the mostest’s own picture of her Luv’s music room.  Thank you, always, Rochelle, for not only being here week after week, encouraging us to write and up our game, but for always supplying your own fabulous take on the prompt.

As always, do join in by clicking on the blue frog below.  It’s a great challenge that teaches you how to choose your words carefully.  100 ain’t a whole lot to write a story!

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Jan’s Joint

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Love Song

“…. and this is my music room.”

“You play all these instruments?”

“Yep!  Wanna hear some?”

“Yes, please.  I’d love to.  What is your genre?”

“You tell me after you’ve heard me play.  How about that?”

She nodded yes, thrilled that he was going to play just for her.

He picked up his guitar and she marvelled as his fingers caressed the instrument.

The melody was beautiful, his voice a rich baritone.

“So? What say you?”

“I’d say a country-influenced crooner is what you are.  You must have loved her very much.”

A shadow crossed his face.  “With all my heart.”

Hide ‘n Seek – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my peeps! It is Friday Fictioneers time! Yessiree… Rochelle chose this wonderful picture by Fatima Fakier Deria this week. So many possibilities, don’t you think? You do? Then do, by all means, join in the fun and let us read it!

Click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs… or, if you already know them, just click on the link below and add yours!

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Hide ‘N Seek

Simon and Jeffrey loved playing hide ‘n seek along the waterways. They delineated certain blocks, making sure they stayed within, otherwise they’d never find each other! So much fun, especially on delivery days. So many crates to hide in or behind. They played almost every weekend when the weather permitted.

It was Simon’s turn to count. “…97, 98, 99, 100. Ready or not, here I come!”

He ran between crates, laughing, “I’ll find you, Jeffrey!”

Suddenly Simon was scooped up and thrown into a box on a boat. The wind knocked out of him, he thought he heard a muffled sound behind him.

“Jeffrey?…”

Head High, Walk On – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday evening, my peeps.  It’s been a helluva beginning to my week and this is my first chance at writing my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted, as always, by the wonderful Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – the mistress of the short story.  This week she chose this cool photo from Jean L. Hayes.  You may use this photo only if you are participating in this challenge.  Otherwise, not cool.  To join in the fun, just write your story in 100 words or less, not including the title, and add your link by clicking on Monsieur Frog below the pic.  It’s fun and addictive.

Copyright ©Jean L. Hayes

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Head High, Walk On

She waltzed through life exuding confidence.  Her smile was often referred to as a welcoming beacon.  The day she was called in and told that she was “too familiar” with the clients and that two of them had complained about her, that confidence was shaken.

What the hell does that mean?  How did she go from being a “favourite” to many, to being “too familiar”?

While at first she was stunned, as the day went on, hurt and dismay set in.

By evening, she chose to hold her head high and walk on.  She would not change who she was.

 

Last Chance – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my readers.  Hope you’re enjoying Hump Day!  This week our lovely leader, Rochelle, chose Roger Bultot’s lovely picture.  His photo can only used for this prompt.

Should you wish to participate, and why don’t you?  Just click on the blue frog and add your link.  It’s easy, using Roger’s beautiful picture, come up with a 100-word story, not including the title, and not one more word, and add your link.  Ta-dah!  Easy-peasy.

 

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Last Chance

“Please, everyone, we need you all to take your seats before their Royal Highnesses arrive.  No lingering about.”

From their hidden alcove, Lianne and Anthony watched as the guests left the lobby and headed for the hall.

“We really must hurry, Tony.  They are expecting us!”

“Who cares?  We are the Prince and Princess-to-be.  They have no choice but to wait.”

“Yes, but, Sweetheart, we really sh—”

Anthony kissed her, silencing her protests.  He pulled her down to the chaise lounge, and lay beside her.

“Let ’em wait.  This is our last chance to be alone before we’re constantly guarded.”