Dick and Rick – Friday Fictioneers

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.”

 

 

Going Home Again – What Pegman Saw

This week Pegman takes us to the capital of Latvia, in Riga’s Old Town. Your mission is to write up 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image supplied, or venture around Riga for something that inspires you. You may write fact or fiction, poetry or prose. The only only requirement is to keep your piece at 150 words or less, as a consideration to others.

Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thank you Karen and Josh for giving us the opportunity to go digging about places we might not know at all. It makes this challenge all the more worthwhile!

©Reinis Hofmanis

Click me to play!

Going Home Again

The three blocks from the O’Keefe Centre in Toronto to the waiting car were the longest Misha had ever run. He could feel the fear of missing his chance burn his throat, leaving an acrid taste on his tongue. He could not know the Soviet Union would respond so calmly to his defection or that his family would not suffer repercussions for his betrayal.

Born in Riga, Latvia in 1948, he took his first ballet lesson at eleven, and was called to the Kirov ballet by nineteen. His talents dazzled audiences the world over and he soon felt stifled artistically.  His defection was never about politics.  “I am individualist and there it is a crime,” he was quoted as saying.

In 2017, forty-three years after that run for freedom, Mikhail Baryshnikov was invited back to his now independent birthplace and granted citizenship.

“I am no longer an outsider. I feel I belong.”

Word Prompt #120 – Vintage

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.  Thanks Sammi!

Word Prompt

Vintage

Challenge

Manners

Respect

Loving-Kindness

Grace

Humility

Words and attitudes now

Have a vintage feel to them

Lost in today’s

Me, Myself and I

 

Emma Why – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #41

Welcome to Crimson’s Creative Challenge. I didn’t think I’d come up with something and then, well, I did. I love that this challenge means pretty much anything is accepted, as long as we keep it under 150 words.  Can’t say I blame Crispina. For challenges, that means a lot of reading (and I try to read all the participants’ entries too, so. Yeah. I do my bestest to keep it at 150 or less).

Emma-Why

Mommy! Look at the ducks!

I think they are geese, dear.

I thought ducks were white and gooses were black and white like the ones in Canada.

Geese.  And there are different types.

Why are they geese and not gooses?

I don’t know.

Why are these geese here in the parking lot?  Isn’t it hot for their foots?

Feet, not foots.

Why is is feet and not foot?

Good question. English is funny that way.

Can I pet them?

Oh no! Geese are notorious for being nasty.

What is notorious? And they look nice.

Notorious means they have a bad reputation.  Don’t disturb them; they probably think we are on their territory.

That’s silly, Mommy. They should be in the water or in the air!

You’ve got that right, Emma-Why.

Why do you call me Emma-Why?

Gee, I wonder why!

 

Word count 150

 

And since I like to add a photo of mine, here are some Canada Gooses 😉

 

 

For Abuelita – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my peeps. The leader of this band of misfits, Rochelle, has borrowed one of my very own pictures this week. This lovely restaurant, called Ta Chido (That’s Cool 😉 ) in the Mile End area of Montreal is where my buddy, Julie, and I ended up when we were on a Cubano Sandwich Search. We had given up on that quest and landed in this Mexican Snack-Bar, which turned out quite delightful.

Should you be tempted to come up with a 100-word story for this pic, just click on the frog below and add your link!

G’head, click me!

For Abuelita

Consuela stood back and admired her handiwork.  The colours were bright and there were bits and pieces of home, reminding her of all the stories her Abuelita Rosaria told her.  Her customers loved it, calling it kitschy yet charming.

“Go, Niña. Leave this dead-end town and start anew somewhere else. There is nothing for you and your talents here.”

“I can’t leave you, Abuelita!”

“I am an old woman. I have done what I was meant to. You, on the other hand, are being stifled here.”

Misty-eyed with memories, she smiled, determined to live her dream, just like she promised.

My Left Foot

It’s 1:25 a.m. and I am being serenaded by one single cricket outside my bedroom window.  He (or is it she?) is loud enough that I can hear it through my closed window.  It doesn’t stop for a second.

I’m trying to determine if one Robax Platinum and one Advil Liquigel will work in tandem for my back and feet. All of one or all of the other I am thinking won’t cut it. I have been lying here writhing in pain, thinking it’s a good thing I sleep alone tonight. A partner would either have left in a huff or taken pity on me and massaged my tender tootsies – if I were particularly lucky.

Despite having soaked my feet in my cool pool – maybe a salted footbath would have been better – the throb continues – particularly in my left foot. I give in and pop a second Advil and let loose a little prayer.

I’m reminded of my first season at the golf course, four years ago. It took me months to adapt and my feet had a hard time of it.  Good shoes go a long way.  Orthotics help as well. Last year I had a much better year with fabulous shoes. Of course, with the mileage we do during a summer, one season is all you can ask from a pair of shoes.

So, this year, the shoe guy came directly to the club with all sorts of samples of the same type of shoe I had last year. Woot! But, not the same model. Not woot.  I opt for a pair and hate them on my second shift. I cannot return them so I go shopping. Find another similar to last year’s and figure I’m good. Nope.

Last year I swore it was my last season and here I am again. What in the blessed fuck am I doing to myself? It is only mid-August and I have until the end of October before golf season ends. Then, come November and December we have 8-10 Christmas parties and then we’re done.  I mean DONE.  January till April will be mine.  And lemme tell you, I am not the only one dreaming of the end. Some of us have been dreaming of it since last June.  It’s been a tough one with lots of huge events like this past night’s. 300+ guests for the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation. Great cause and they amassed over $300K.

I am not going back next year. I promise myself that. I’m too old for this shit.

It is now 2:30 and I feel the Advil kicking in and hope a visit from Morpheus is pending.

Pick a Key – What Pegman Saw

Today Pegman travels to the Florida Keys at the bottom of the United States. Like the other Torch Keys, it was probably named for the native Torchwood tree.

Stroll and around and see if you can find something that interests you. When you’re done, write 150 words and link to the prompt using the frog below. Remember, reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thanks for stopping by, and happy writing!

Now, it has been remarked that I like to write travel pieces. And in this case, I find myself doing so again. Couldn’t help it, Pegman was short on views so you are stuck with my picture of 7-mile bridge 😉  And a memory of a couple of trips, too 😉 Sorry (not)!

Pick a Key

“So, take three on going to the Keys?”

“Whaddaya mean, take three?”

“Forgotten 2009, have ya? We were supposed to join my sister and gang in Bahia Honda Key but instead you wound up spending six days in the Celebration Hospital.”

“Um. Yeah. That was an epic fail on my part.”

“At least you did manage two days in Disney.”

“Yeah, that blows that I caused us to miss the rest.”

“But what a story you’ve provided me with!”

“At least in 2013 we made it to Long Key.”

“But getting there we got a flat in Key Largo!”

“That I didn’t even realise was us!”

“I swear, the guys looked like a team from NASCAR!  Zzzip! Zzip! Zzzip!”

“They were mighty impressive, that’s for sure.”

“That time we went down to Key West, too.”

“Yep.”

“And now you want to go to Middle Torch Key? I’ve never even heard of it!”

A quick change of tires on the road in Key Largo