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.

**********************

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…

Awakening – Friday Fictioneers

Good Friday, my friends!  I cannot believe I missed you all last week!  It’s been hellish days of working odd hours and not having the time to read all of my fellow FF pals’ pieces, so I totally bypassed the last one.  If I cannot participate by reading at least some of yours, then I cannot expect you to read mine, right?  Reciprocation is key in this challenge.

That said, here I am on Friday instead of Wednesday or Thursday – which is cool, it IS after all Friday Fictioneers, right?  I thought I would be able to on Wednesday morning, but that meant writing before having to leave for work for 10:30 am.  Then, I figured, that’s okay, I’ll write it when I got back.  Finished work at 1:00 a.m.  Yes, you read that right!  I worked 14 hours on Wednesday… So… I figured I’d write yesterday but it was my baby’s 18th birthday so I had his cake to make, my hair to be done – no, not for his birthday but to hide my silver “highlights” that mysteriously appear at the roots every 6 weeks or so… 😉 – and I just plain had an appointment for that day!  Good time was had by all and well, here I am.  Just before I leave for the first of the last three days at the golf club!  Wooo hoooo!

So, now that I’ve bored you all to tears with my overlong intro, let us get down to business.  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for always being there to keep us in line.  This week, thank you goes to Roger Bultot for this beautiful photo.  Do join us by adding your 1oo-word story inspired by Roger’s photo!  Click on the blue frog to add yours.

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Copyright ©Roger Bultot

Word Count:  100

Awakening

The morning sunlight caressed her face and shoulders. Stretching languorously, her foot slid along his leg.  She opened her eyes to find him looking at her, head resting on his bent arm, a slight smile on his lips.

“Good morning, You,” she smiled and kissed him. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. I was enjoying watching you sleep.  You were smiling; were you dreaming?”

“I was thinking of us.  I can’t believe how comfortable we are together.  Is it possible to feel this way this soon?”

“I feel it, too.”

“I never thought I would find love again.”

You Call This an Act of Love? – Friday Fictioneers

Good Thursday evening, my lovely readers.  Welcome to this week’s edition of Friday Fictioneers.  Our fabulous hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has chosen FFF (Fellow Friday Fictioneer) Kelvin M. Night‘s wonderfully whimsical photo.  So many possibilities.   Let’s just say I’ve had a rough two weeks.  This story is not fiction and I’m not the daughter, I’m the daughter-in-law.  We did win our court hearing yesterday and my mother-in-law has one chance to prove she can live on her own with medical help… Fingers crossed she accepts the help!

Next week, I bring smiles, I promise!

To join in the fun, click on the blue frog below

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You Call This an Act of Love?

The old woman sitting in the wheelchair glared at the younger woman seated in front of her.

“How could you do this to me?  I’m fine.  There is nothing wrong with me! I just want to go home.  They’re keeping me here against my will!”

“We all just want you safe.  You’ve started forgetting some things and you’re not too stable on your feet.  We don’t want you to come to any harm.  A safe environment is what you need.”

“I want to be in my own home.  You call this an act of love?”

“Yes, I really do, Mother.”

Better on the Other Side – Friday Fictioneers

Good Thursday, my readers.  I’ve been struggling with this week’s Friday Fictioneers, trying to come up with something half-way decent.  I admit I’ve been a tad preoccupied this week with the death on Friday of my beloved aunt, Lucette.  Saturday is her funeral.

I have been asked, once again, to give the eulogy.  My cousin feels he’s too close – it is his mother – and says he won’t be able to do it.  I, of course accepted, having already made the decision to say a few words to honour her anyway.

It’s funny, I keep getting asked to do this “job”, having now done it for my grandmother, father, and husband.  I dunno, maybe it’s a calling!  One thing is for sure, there will not only be tears, there will definitely be smiles.  I can’t help it.  I will always try to find the sunshine in the dark; or, as Maya Angelou like to say, I try to be a rainbow to someone else’s cloud.

Thank you, always, to Rochelle for hosting our group.  And this week, thank you to Danny Boweman for the use of your picture (bet you didn’t know Rochelle would choose you this week, eh?)

To play with us, click on the blue frog to add your link.  Not sure how this shindig works?  Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-tos…

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©Danny Boweman

Better on the Other Side

She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes!

She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes!

Ever since she opened Rochelle’s email with this week’s pic, the bloody song had become an earworm.

For reasons she couldn’t fathom, the stupid song made her think of her beloved aunt, Lucette

“You’re on the other side now, Matante*.  I do hope it is pain-free and filled with beauty, as they say it is.”

Smiling through her tears, she pictured her aunt:  healthy, rounding the bend, drink in hand, singing the song.  Letting us all know she much better now.

 

*Here in Quebec (well in my family at least) we call our uncles “Mononcle” and our aunts “Matante”, which means my aunt.  We don’t just use the tante.  It has become a form of endearment to the point that we will say something like:  My Matante Lucette…  literally meaning  “My my aunt Lucette”!

Missing You – Friday Fictioneers, Take Two

Hello again, dear Readers!  As I had alluded in my first submission, I really had more than one idea for my picture.  (How come we get so thrilled when one of ours is chosen?  Well, I do, anyway!)  This was my original idea but then the other one came in and bullied its way in.  This one refused to be silenced so this week you get a Two-fer from me! Rules and regs here.  More stories. Frog.

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Genre:  Reminiscing

Word count:  100

Missing You

The warm  night  breeze caressed her cheek as she meandered along the resort’s winding pathways.  What a beautiful evening in this Caribbean paradise.  The scent of flowers teased her nostrils and the distant music tickled her ears.

She smiled and nodded to those passing her by; mostly couples, some small groups enjoying spring break and a family or two.  None seemed to be , like her, alone.

Truth was, she was not alone.  She had left her friend behind in the room, watching TV.  Looking up at the full moon, she wished she could hold the hand of her true love.

While It Lasts – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my Peeps!  Et oui, it is Friday Fictioneers time.  My favourite part of the week where we all gather to tell each other 100-word stories based on a photograph sent to us via our Hostess with the Mostest, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week, she has chosen a picture from Roger Bultot.  Love this photo, Roger.  Thank you!  There should be many a variation to be found if you click on the blue frog…  Should you want to participate, please click here for the rules and regs.  Truly simple rules, I promise.  What is hard is whittling down our original thoughts to 100 words.  It is a challenge that teaches us that less is more.  G’head!  Try it!

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©Roger Bultot

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  Toujours 100

While It Lasts

“Scuse-me.  May I please have a hot dog with ketchup and an Orange Crush for me, and a coffee for my Daddy?”

“What? Who said that?”

“Meeee! I did!”

“Who’s there?”

“Meeeee!  Down here, Mr. Bob!”

“Would you look at that… How are you Miss Sunshine?  Didn’t see you down there.  How ’bout you hop up on the stool so I can see your pretty face?”

As the father picked up his daughter, the men smiled at each other over her head.  They both enjoyed this weekly ritual, knowing one day, too soon, they could not play this little game.

Very Much Alive – Friday Fictioneers

A bit late today.  Had trouble getting this story going in the way I wanted it to!  Plus it was a day for Skyping and dining with friends!  Priorities, eh?

Thanks to Rochelle for being there week after week and making us squeeze our creative juices into a 100-word story.  This challenge is the highlight of my week.  Thank you to Liz Young for this great photo.  I am sure there will be death and mayhem galore this week.  Just not from me!  Do click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to of this challenge or, if you are not ready to take the plunge but would like to see how 80 (give or take) other writers are inspired, click on the blue frog!

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  Always 100

Very Much Alive

Sitting on the bench, eyes closed, she could still feel his touch, his kisses, hear his whispered sweet nothings. It had been so long since she had felt a man’s touch beyond a handshake and a chaste kiss on each cheek.  She had felt so alive and sexy.

She flushed thinking just how far those touches and kisses had gotten…

“Mom!” Her son’s yell jarred her back to the present.  “What the hell?  Arrested for indecent exposure at your age? Seriously, in a graveyard of all places?  Moms do NOT do things like that. Ever!”

She smiled.  “Maybe they do.”