Childhood – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Wednesday, so I’m Friday Fictioneering!  Yessiree.  This photo by J. Hardy Carroll, chosen by our facilitator by excellence, Rochelle, brought me immediately to childhood.  One like I had.  When times were simpler and freer.

Care to join the party?  Click on the blue frog below to add your 100-word story.  G’head, it’s fun!

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Childhood

“Go outside and play. Be home for supper.” Mom dismissed us to go do what children do.

We went to the park. We played games we invented. We hung upside down on the monkey bars. We played hide-and-seek. We disputed. We negotiated. We settled.

Always too soon, Daddy whistled for us to get home for supper.

We jumped on our bikes, disbanding with promises to be back at the park tomorrow.

Nowadays? Kids aren’t allowed out of sight of their parents’ watchful eyes. Everything is scheduled. They’ve no freedom to figure out how to settle the score on their own.

 

Stories My Father Told Me – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning my readers!  You know what day it is? Yep… hump day AND Friday Fictioneers day!  Today’s photo of a synagogue reminded me of my dad and his many stories of growing up in Montreal.  Thank you, Rochelle, for keeping this challenge interesting week after week.  And thank you Roger Bultot for allowing us to use your photo.

To join in the fun, click the blue frog below.  Not sure how?  Click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.  Fun and teaches you to use your words sparingly!

©Roger Bultot

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Stories My Father Told Me

Dad always said he was a “goyim mit a Yiddishe kopf” (sic).¹  Grew up in the same ‘hood as Mordecai Richler, and considered himself a real Duddy Kravitz.  Loved to talk about “Shtunks”² — real name, Stringer — owners of the general store that he and his buddies used to torment in their youth. He sure respected the tattoo on their arms, though.  Was so pleased to introduce me to Mrs. Stringer before she passed.  “Such a bad boy was your father!” she scolded and laughed.  We finished our tour with a Wilensky Special.

Why did I not write these stories down?

___________

¹Men with a Jewish head (goy would be singular 😉 )

²Stinkers

Cheers

Korikancha – What Pegman Saw

Don’t think I’ve ever participated in a Pegman so late but there you go.  In my efforts to help this challenge stay alive, late is good, right?

Thanks to Josh and Karen for trying to keep this great challenge alive.

Today Pegman treks down to the Andes for a stroll through Cusco in central Peru. Once the capital of the Inca Empire, Cusco is now known for its archaeological remains and Spanish colonial architecture. Remember to breathe… the elevation is 11,000 feet.

Stroll around until you find a picture that grabs you and write 150 words. When you’re done, click on the froggy below to link your story and comment on others.

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Korikancha

Pachacuti looked on from the beyond in disgust.  It is the end of us.  The great and powerful Inca are no more.  Those savage Spanish heathens – they dare call themselves conquistadors – have destroyed all that we are, that we built.  That I built.  My empire.

He watched as Atahualpa, the last Sapa Inca, was murdered despite the ransom agreed upon.  The fool!  80,000 men at his disposal and yet he was ambushed by one man, Hernando Pizzaro.

My beautiful Temple of the Sun, built with the finest ashlar masonry.  I wanted it to be more, so I had the sides plated with 700 sheets of gold for each of the gods: Inti (Sun), Killa (Moon), Chaska (Stars) and Illapa (Thunder/Lightning/Rainbow); the garden, adorned with silver and gold life-sized statues.

For what? To take all the treasures, destroy it and build an ugly church to pray to their supposed better god.

Some Dare, Some Dare Not – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my peeps!  Yessiree, today’s hump day is brought to you by Friday Fictioneers!  I know, I know, the name stuck despite many of us writing on Wednesdays.  Think The Piano Guys – there is no mention of the cellist, who, in my opinion, is the bigger piece of the group.  Anyway, I digress!  This week, Rochelle chose this most interesting picture by our Sandra Crook, she, whose stories are always top shelf. If you feel inclined to play along, just click on the blue frog below and add your 100-word story.  Not sure how it works?  Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to’s!

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Some Dare, Some Dare Not

“Why do you like to walk on that beam, Tina? It’s slimy and gross.”

“It’s not that slimy, Josie. Plus when you go all the way to the end, you feel like you’re at the edge of the world, wild and free.”

“But it’s not safe, Tina.  It scares me to watch you go way out there.”

“Don’t worry so much.  You should try it.”

“God, no…”

Fifteen years later, Josie sat on that very beam, remembering, missing their childhood, missing her sister, gone to the edge of the world on adventures while she had remained home, safe and secure.

A Better Plan – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #23

Thought I was gonna forgo Crispina’s weekly challenge.  My head was too stuffed up to think up something half-assed decent.  Feelling better and since Zeke is too tired to go for a walk with me as he already went a-running, I figured I’d let him rest whilst I cooked up something for Crispina’s wonderful cabin photo.  Now I don’t usually do sequels, but I couldn’t resist. To find out the rules and regs (I mean, there are still two days before her next one, so… yanno, if’n ya want to) click here.

A Better Plan

Do think I’m going to trust you after that last crazy stunt you pulled trying to add spice?  Talk about overkill.”

Bill had the grace to look contrite.  “Not one of my finer moments, admittedly.  But Harry’s plan backfired, too, remember?  Helen had the crap scared out of her but it all worked out in the end.  Now they’re both spies!”

“For the love of…. that was a movie, you fool!  Plus Harry really was a spy so he was better equipped.”

” Yeah. Anyway.  Trust me.  Let me blindfold you.”

“No!”

“Gin, I promise.  This one you will love.  Turn around.”

“You better not—”

“Shhhh.  Now, sit quietly while I drive, please?”

Seething yet curious, Gin sat back, arms crossed, lips a thin line.

Bill stopped the car, opened the door for her, helped her out and free’d her eyes.

“Ta-dah!  Our weekend getaway.  Just you and me.”

“Oh, Bill!”

****

150 words

Timing is Everything

Along with millions around the world, I, too, wept in shock to see the images of the magnificent Notre Dame de Paris Cathedral burn.  It is illogical to think that these things will last forever but, let’s face it, she has been standing for 800 years.  We have gotten used to her existence.

©François Guillot AFP Getty Images

I could not help but think how, if I had sold my house six months ago, I would be there right now, today, April 16.  I had put my deposit on Cook in France, the newest destination cooking getaway created by Linda and George Meyers of Cook in Tuscany, a year ago, thinking my house would be sold and settled, and, even if I hadn’t moved yet, I’d be free to roam Burgundy and Paris for three weeks.  Notre Dame would definitely have been on my itinerary.

And now I’ll never see her in all her glory.  Even though she is badly wounded and not completely destroyed, any restoration that will take place will take years.  I don’t doubt it will happen.  I just don’t know if I will ever see any of it.  This does sound woe-is-me-ish, doesn’t it?  I don’t suppose I am alone in this one.  Oh, there are those who have no desire to travel and see the world and that’s okay.  I’m just not one of them.

This thought, of course, begat more thoughts and I found myself remembering those times where the fates were against me (protected me?) such as the time we left late to go to the movies, and as a result were behind an overpass crashing down as I once wrote about here.  Had we left earlier… who knows?

How some people were supposed to be at the Twin Towers on that fateful day but missed their plane, slept in, whatever; while others, on a whim decided to join up for breakfast as did two sisters, only to have it be their last meal.

I could, of course list many a coulda, shoulda woulda or a couldna, wouldna, didna but they will all end up in the same place.  This or that did or didn’t happen.  Call it fate, call it “not your time”, call it happenstance; doesn’t matter.  Whatever works for you to understand the why you missed something or not.

I’ve never been a proponent of the “why me?” mentality.  The opposite holds true, as a matter of fact.  Why the hell NOT me?  Why should I deserve or not deserve whatever I am receiving?

Which brings me to a show I loved that sadly only lasted two seasons.  “Dead Like Me”, with Ellen Muth, Mandy Patinkin and Jasmin Guy, who play grim reapers, working to collect souls:  the names and times of death received on post-it notes.  It might seem blasphemous to end this serious-starting post with a comedic-drama show but that’s how I roll.

Conversation With Myself – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #22

I’ve been mulling over Crispina’s photo for two days now.  We’ve had a few paths or gates so far – albeit all very different – and I didn’t want to find myself telling a different version of a previous story.  What to do?  I found myself having an internal dialogue, going over ideas.  Hey….there ya go.  Make that the story.  So I did.  Care to join in on the fun?  Just click here to find out all the rules and regs.  There are none!  Well, except going over 150 words.  That’s the only rule.  Not so tough, eh?

Conversation With Myself

Does that path up ahead look smooth to you?

No, why? Is it supposed to be?

I though it might be; at least somewhat.

Where’d you get that notion?

I figured I’d earned it by now.

Based on what, exactly?

My age, years worked, life experiences

And you figured by now, all the hard stuff would be done?

Pretty much

Kind of presumptuous, no?

You think? I just didn’t figure I’d be starting over so late in the game.

Life’s funny like that.  Just when you think you have it figured out—

Boom!  Here comes another rock, jutting out just enough to trip you

You know what they say, right?

Oh shut up! 

But it’s true!

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… Ugh.

You’re resilient.  You can handle it.

Well maybe I’d just like for things to ease up!

They will, in time.

When?

Soon enough.

I hate you.