I had a great idea for a story. Well, I had the beginnings of a great idea for a story. Then I didn’t. But I did. But the words and my fingers had a fight. Irreconscilable differences, I’m afraid. So I fiddled and futzed and said fuggedaboutit. And then pressed publish.
If your muse works like it should, then by all means, please click the frog below and add your story. Rochelle, our lovely leader, is always thrilled when new peeps join in on the fun.
Clique Ze Frogue
Thoughts Become Things
Like speech bubbles, thoughts floated up, decorating the sky in glowing blue circles.
Those walking the street were oblivious to the goings-on above their heads, preoccupied with their own musings: to-do lists, dreams and random thoughts.
Sharon sat in the doorway of her kiosk, looking, to anyone who bothered to even glance at her, like a simple kitschshop owner. She could see their thoughts, and orchestrate them at will. She swirled them around, bumped them together, made them trade places. She loved watching the bemusement cross their faces as aleatory thoughts popped suddenly into their head seemingly out of nowhere.
It’s a glorious Wednesday out there, I’m not working and I’m on slo-mo. Zeke is not pleased with me so before he decides I am no longer his buddy, I better send this out into the ether, grab his leash and get a move on before the sun disappears! Thanks always to Rochelle for hosting this weekly party and thank you to Ted Strutz for sending most of us down memory lane. (I assume, which is not smart, but I never claimed to be.)
Click me! Click me!
I’ve since gone digital, but I still prefer the old pictures. In all their glorious mess. You know what I mean, don’t you?
Most of us have them. Boxes of old photographs. I have Dad’s, with so few pictures of him as a kid. My aunt has my grandmother’s. Mom has “gifted’ me with hers, as she wants me to scan each one into digital form ~ I must start before it’s too late. And I have my own. Filled with memories, still to be sorted.
In all those boxes, dates and names are a scarcity.
And this is what’s left.
Good Wednesday morning! It’s Hump Day! Or, for about 50-60 of us (give or take) it’s Friday Fictioneers time. And would you look at that? Rochelle has chosen my picture this week! I had a bazillion stories to go with this one and yet, none of them made it to the page, so to speak. Maybe I’ll have to double-dip. Maybe not. We’ll see 😉 Maybe you have an idea on a story that would go with this picture. Why don’t you try your hand and add your link by clicking the frog below. Not sure how it works? Click on Rochelle’s name and find the rules and regs. G’head, you know you wanna…
Click me to play!
How could one feel so alone within such a close family? Sure, they did lots of activities together but he felt he had no special place within the family dynamic.
Peter had Mom. She favoured him, he was sure of it. When push came to shove, she always took Peter’s side, no matter what.
Paula had Dad. He protected her, defended her and gave her treats whenever she was sad. She was Daddy’s little girl and while he understood it, he also resented it.
No matter how hard he tried, Patrick’s deeds went less noticed.
Where did that leave him?
Good Wednesday, my peeps! Hope the sun is shining in your neck of the woods. If not, hope the wet sunshine doesn’t get you down. My skies are kinda grey but hey, c’est la vie. Na’ama Yehuda’s lovely picture is this week’s pic, chosen by our chief Fictioneer, Rochelle. Does it inspire you? G’head, write your own 100-word story and link up. It’s fun. Really.
Traffic was at a standstill. Nothing moved worth a mention. The quiet was surprising, considering today’s need to hustle from here and bustle to there. No one was frustrated; no grunts of impatience. The rain was taken in stride, too, though stride was more akin to a shuffle. Perhaps the cosmic powers that be had sent out a vibe or a subliminal message: Be in the moment. Slow down. Enjoy.
People smiled at each other.
“Good morning. Beautiful wet sunshine, don’t you think?”
A laugh, followed by a “You’ve got that right! It’s kind of nice, though.”
“That it is.”
Lawsy I’m late! I am just shy of midnight on this Wednesday evening. I admit I was a tad stumped on this one. Started and rejected more than a few. Gave up and went to work. Didn’t have time to scribble any ideas before I left regular work to go help out a caterer for his first big shindig. Came home, forced myself to walk around the block with Zeke despite my already 20K+ steps taken today. Plopped myself down on the sofa and here is the result!
This week our leader Rochelle, chose a picture from c.e. ayr. Thanks to both! Click on the frog below to read other submissions or go crazy, and add your own!
Click me! Click me!
Movie Over Book
“Life of Pi.”
“Life of Pie? What kind? Blueberry, strawberry—”
“No, silly! Not pie with an ‘e’ but just P-I. The story is about a boy named Pi Patel.”
“His full name is Piscine.”
“What? Like a pool?”
“That’s awful. His parents were mean.”
“Tell me more?”
“He’s alone on a boat with a tiger.”
“A tiger? Woah!”
“Why don’t you read it yourself?
“Ugh. Read a whole book? It’s too big! Did they make a movie?”
“Cool. I’ll go see it, won’t have to read it.”
Good Wednesday afternoon, my peeps! Hope your day is as fabulous as mine! (Got cut from work coz of the rain so… a rain day – think snow day in winter.)
I looked at this picture and thought… dang. Then I sent it to my lovely buddy Marco (a man can be lovely, right?) over at Sorryless who said: Huitzilopochtli! And I said: “How the fuck do you remember a name like ‘Huitzilopochtli’?” His response: “Because he was an Aztec God.” Uh. Okay then. The man is brilliant, what can I say? A whole discussion ensued and using bits and pieces and The Wickepedia, this nonsense was born.
Thanks to our birthday girl, Rochelle for hosting this weekly party and thanks go out to Penny Gadd for
causing me grief, I mean making me work… 🙂
As always, click on Monsieur Frogue below to add your 100-word story inspired by this image or to read others…
“Good God, Grace. What the hell kinda plant is that? It’s positively evil-looking!”
“No idea, Steve. I call him ‘Quetzalcoatl‘.
“Quetzalcoatl. Looks more like Huitzilopochtli but he was into sacrifices. Can’t have that.”
“You’re weird. It looks like tentacles waiting for me to come close enough to grab.”
“You watch too many horror movies. It’s affected your perception. I call him that because I’ve been reading about the Aztec gods. He was the god of wind, air and learning or wisdom and it seemed fitting to put him up there. Don’t you think?”
“I think you read too much.”
It has been Thursday for 16 minutes already but here I am, finally getting my Friday Fictioneers story up. I wrote a whole story at work and then decided… meh. So I flushed it. Then I did a little research because this is what I really wanted to share and voilà, here I am!
Thank you, always, to Rochelle for being here week after week, gathering us crazy peeps together. This week, she chose Linda Kreger‘s fabulous photo.
Wanna play along? Click on the blug frog below to add your link!
G’head! Click me!
Dick and Rick
Dick and June were told to put Rick into an institution when he was born. He would never amount to anything as he was a spastic quadriplegic with cerebral palsy. They dismissed them as they noticed their son’s eyes followed them when they moved and lit up when they spoke to him.
Ignoring all naysayers, they treated Rick like any normal kid and eventually got what they needed for Rick to be able to communicate.
A love of sports was all Dick needed to be his son’s arms and legs to participate in his first race.
Team Hoyt was born.
“Dad, when I’m running, it feels like I’m not handicapped.”