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Can’t Help Myself – Friday Fictioneers

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Good Wednesday,, my peeps!  The sun is making a feeble appearance today.  Will it stay? It’s early-ish yet.  Oh wait, I just looked at the forecast.  Rain is coming in to help melt the snow… and cause more lakes and more ice and more… How about we forget the weather and tell a story instead?  Today, I have gone Rochellian in my attempt.  So thank you, Rochelle, for inspiring us to write better, in a more concise way.  This week, our leader has chosen a photo from Anshu Bhojnagarwala, so thank you, Anshu for allowing us to use your photo as inspiration.

©Anshu Bhojnagarwala

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Can’t Help Myself

“Glenn! You must stop humming while you play! The microphone is picking it up and ruining the recording.”

“Sorry. I’ll start again.”

“Good. Whenever you are ready.”

Bach’s Goldberg variations resumed as only he could play them.

“Dammit!”

“I know.  I don’t like it and I can’t stop it. Honestly, I would resent any other artist did it. I know it’s a terrible distraction.  But my playing will never be as good without a few vocal elaborations. I don’t see why anyone puts up with it. Shall we continue?”

Glenn Gould’s humming can be heard on most of his recordings.

An early recording of a young Glenn Gould.

In later years you needed a good set of earphones.  If you wish to take a glimpse of the older Glenn Gould, click here.

Part of the Plan – Friday Fictioneers

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Good Friday on Wednesday, my peeps!  Yep.  Another week has flown by.  The sun is shining brightly but it is still cold here in Quebec.  I’m having trouble visualising spring, the snow is so high still.  If this house had been settled before yesterday, I would be on the beach with my sisters and mother!  Oh well, I’ll just have to book something after I move by May 1st.

Thank you, always to Rochelle for challenging us to write 100-word stories that hopefully entertain you!  This week she chose c.e. ayr’s photo which reminded me of Italy.

Join in on the fun, why don’t you?

Click me! Click me!

 

Part of the Plan

Whose Vespa is parked outside the door?

Mine, why?

Yours? Really? Since when are you the Vespa type?

There’s a type? Where the hell did you get that notion?

Of course there is. You watch the movies. Any time there is someone driving a Vespa, they are well-to-do types who live in Italy, have al fresco parties with good food and wine and—oh… I get it…

What?

I see what you’re doing. Taking this whole visualisation thing a bit far, no? Wouldn’t it be better to just go back and visit Italy?

But I don’t want to come back.

The Discussion Continues – Friday Fictioneers

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Good Wednesday, my peeps!  Sun is shining but don’t be fooled ~  it’s a level of cold I just don’t feel like getting used to, today.  So, to warm us up, I decided to do something I never (at least I think I never) do… I have decided to dovetail on Rochelle’s “story” as well as the comments she has received thus far!  So, not that you have to, but what the hey, read hers first here and then mine.  Or don’t.  To add your own story, click on the blue frog below.  G’head, you know you wanna…

©Jean L. Hayes

Click me! CLick me!

The Discussion Continues

“I betcha there is a cigarette machine in there,” added Josh.

“You’re probably right,” added Linda.  “And why do WordPress and inLinkz keep changing things up?  I hate being told what to do. This is so annoying.”

“I like it and didn’t have a problem.  Even added the frog Rochelle forgot,” laughed Keith.

“Why are you guys focusing on WordPress and the frog?” griped Iain.  “We should respect Rochelle, and get back to the story!”

“I think this is fun,” added Trent.  “I could imagine this is how an informal gathering of all the usual Friday Fictioneer participants would go!”

 

 

 

Deaf – Friday Fictioneers

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My goodness.  Had a little trouble getting myself going today.  The fun part about working in a seasonal job is I can have dinner parties on a Tuesday night.  Wednesday morning comes along, and, though I may feel a tad “fragile”, I can take it easy and recuperate from my excesses.  Not that I would ever dream of over-indulging in food and wine.  Nuh-unh, not me…

Rochelle nabbed her own picture this week and so, only one thank you is required this week 😉

Do join in on the fun by clicking on Monsieur Frogue below and adding your own 100-word story inspired by this lovely picture.

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

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Deaf

Every anniversary, without fail, he arrived with a beautiful bouquet of fragrant roses; an extra rose for every year.  Every anniversary, she reminded him that she could not stand the smell of roses as they evoked the memory of her brother’s death.  There were so many flowers at his funeral, the stench was forever imprinted into her senses.

Did he listen?

Not for twenty-nine years.

Now, instead, she receives a beautiful glass rose to add to her scentless and everlasting bouquet.

She has never liked knickknacks and doohickeys.  Dust-collectors she calls them.  And she hates dusting.

Does he listen?

 

Who Needs Help? – Friday Fictioneers

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Welcome to Wednesday, my Readers! This very snowy day (here in Montreal) brings us rosy cheeks and tired muscles after shovelling over one foot of snow dumped on us overnight. And lo! It snows still! I canna lie, it is really pretty. But treacherous, as under that fluffy blanket is sheer ice. Let us (fellow sufferers) warm up with a little story. I’ll be interested to see if anyone sees where I got my inspiration from. 🙂

A thank you, always goes to Rochelle for hosting this weekly party and this week, J.Hardy Carroll‘s picture was lifted chosen to inspire us. Do join in the fun and tell us a 100-word story and leave your link by clicking on the blue frog below. Till then, hope you enjoy my little “out-there” attempt.

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Who Needs Help?

Head bowed, he shuffled along. Hearing a muffled sound, he stopped, cocked his head to listen intently. “Don’t! Don’t make me! Leave me alone!” Looking up, he saw what appeared to be someone’s head hanging out of the window.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not too loudly. “Do you need help?” Silence greeted his query, and without thinking things through, he found the main door and ran up, taking the stairs two at a time. The door was ajar to the apartment and he silently and carefully pushed through.

Stunned, he stopped. It was himself, alone, leaning over the ledge.

Date Night – Who Knew? – Friday Fictioneers

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Good Wednesday morning, my peeps!  The sun is shining, mostly, it’s cold outside but not that bad (for us Quebecers, that is), I’ve got a nice big cappuccino keeping me warm and this fire in the picture provided by Anshu Bhojnagarwala sure helps even if it is virtual!

Always, a thank you to Rochelle Wisoff(no ‘e’)-Fields for gathering her flock to some sort of order week after week.

Have a great day!

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Date Night – Who Knew?

You bastard! Siobhan raised her hand to hit him and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her to his hard, manly body.  She opened her mouth to swear and he slammed his lips against hers, silencing her.  His undeniable desire against her belly caused her body to respond with a burning heat that rose from her—

Betsy tossed the book aside.  Good grief!  Who reads this stuff?

Steve picked up Loves Raging Fire, “Whatcha reading?”

“Nothing!”

Ignoring her, he started to read aloud:

Riordan’s hand slid up Siobhan’s thigh to her —

“Whoa! Sexy!”

And so began a new date night ritual…

I Wanna Sleep With You in the Desert Tonight – Friday Fictioneers

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Good Wednesday, my Peeps!  It is time for this week’s episode of Friday Fictioneers.  I looked at this pic and many ideas floated around but none truly tickled me fancy.  So I asked my buddy Marc, over at Sorryless, his thoughts on this pic and he said, “Lotta ways to go with that one.” and I responded with “Gimme an idea or three”.  He responded:  “You got your Native American angle, of course. In which you go all Rochelle and add some history to the story. You got your Eagles (the band) angle”.  Oooooh.  I was sold.  Thank you, Marc!  And, of course, thank you to Rochelle for hosting this weekly party.  And thank you to Renee Heath for the use of her pretty picture.

©Renee Heath

 

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I Wanna Sleep With You in the Desert Tonight

“Whaddaya say, Carol, wanna spend the night in the desert?  You, me, a fire, the stars…”

“And whatever other beasties creep and crawl out there, just waiting to eat us up..”

“Nothing to worry about.  I’ll protect you.  Plus, I’ll bring a nice sturdy tent for when we wanna, yanno, go inside.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.

Laughing, “Protect me?  Mr. Daryl, aka Bear Grylls?  Where did this crazy idea come from, anyway?”

“Don’t you think it would be romantic?”

“I do like the idea of the stars, you and me…  What inspired you?”

“That song by “The Eagles”…