No-Rush Hour – Friday Fictioneers

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.

©Na’ama Yehuda

G’head, Click!

No-Rush Hour

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.”

 

I’m Fine, Too – Friday Fictioneers

Good morning/evening, my Reader Friends.  It is time for Friday Fictioneers – the next two days I start work early so now was the most opportune time to get my 100-word story in.

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple for not only herding us cats every week, but for supplying this photo this week.  One that drummed up a few memories.

If you would like to try your hand at this challenge, click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.  If you only want to read a few interpretations of this here photo, then, please, click on the frog!

Genre:  Memoir

Word count:  Always 100

I’m Fine, Too

She thanked the good Samaritan for the ride home and made her way into the house on wobbly legs.

“Where’s the car?” Dad shouted.

“It’s in the ditch. And there is not a scratch on it,” I replied, still shaking from the whole ordeal.

“What do you mean, ‘It’s in the ditch’?  Why did you go out when there is black ice all over the roads?”

“I didn’t realise it when I left, Dad.  It seemed okay from our street.”

“Well, you are going to pay for getting it out of the ditch!”

“I’m fine, too, Dad.  Don’t you worry.”

***

Small note:  My father was not good at showing his true worry so he made it about the car… and he didn’t make me pay for the tow truck to get the car out of the ditch 🙂

Outside Looking In – Friday Fictioneers

Well hello my lovely readers!  It is Wednesday already!  You know what that means?  Yep!  Friday Fictioneers time!  How fast do these weeks go by…  This lovely photo was brought to you by Shaktiti Sharma.  Hmmmm… What do you see?  If you care to join in on this fun weekly challenge, please click on our fearless leader Rochelle Wisoff (no ‘e’)- Fields blog for the how tos.

Should you just care to read all sorts of interesting takes on this one, click on the frog!

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  100 – always!

OUTSIDE LOOKING IN

Never failed.  Every time Mommy and Daddy had one of their parties, I was sent to the neighbours’.  Not fair!  I’m not part of the family?  What gives?

“No, honey,” said Mommy, “Of course you’re part of the family, but sometimes, Mommy and Daddy have parties just for adults.  It would be boring for you; there’s no one to play with!”

Little did she know I sneaked back, looking through the hedges to watch.  I was surprised to see Daddy hugging and kissing Auntie Laurie on the bench.  She must have had a boo-boo and he was kissing it better.

********

Little note:  I originally used the word “snuck” and then doubted myself.  It bugged me enough to look it up.  So… apparently, both are good.. Though “sneaked” is the original form dating back to the 1500’s and “snuck” showed up around the 1800’s mostly in the U.S.A. but then made its way across the Pond, though not unanimously.  As I searched some more, I found out “snuck” is used twice as often as “sneaked” in Canada.  Oh dilemma!  The worst part?  “Snuck” mysteriously appeared and cannot truly be explained.  So, as there are people from all over the world who participate in this challenge, feel free to change my “sneaked” to “snuck” if that suits you more! 😉

Story Time – Friday Fictioneers

Wednesday, Wednesday… what to do on this oh-so dreary (on the south shore of Montreal, anyway) day?  Oh look!  Rochelle has sent  us a picture (her very own) of nice fluffy clouds!  At least the sun’s rays are showing in this one.  At home?  Not so much.  Totally grey and dreary…

Should you want to play Friday Fictioneers with us, click here to see the hows…

T0 simply enjoy reading other interpretations, click on zee bleu froggy…

rochelle-wisoff-fields

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  100

Story Time

It was a dark and stormy night….

It’s daytime, Daddy!

The menacing clouds slowly taking over the sky…

Those are cumulus clouds, Daddy!

The cauliflower top of the cumulus clouds announcing some rain showers…

Really?  But the sun is right behind the clouds!  Doesn’t that mean a sunny day is coming, Daddy?

The showers would be brief…

They could last all day, Daddy!

Except more clouds rolled in, assuring the day was lost for little girls who talk too much…

Oh Daddy!

Keeping them from escaping the confines of the room, where…

They could play with their Daddy all day!

When One Door Opens… – Friday Fictioneers

My computer will surely send me over the deep end before long.  It is old and tired and not all that willing to cooperate – more than trying my patience!  Took me than one reboot to get this baby out but finally, here’s my version!  Thank you Rochelle, for your tireless hosting of Friday Fictioneers.  Thank you c.e.ayr for this fabulous picture.  How did you know I love doors?

Click on the blue frog to read more stories… and if you want to add your own, which would be fabulous, click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.

ceayr-purple-door

Word count:  100

Genre:  Fiction

When One Door Opens...

She strolled, admiring doorways, a form of meditation, if you will.  She never could sit, pretzel-like, eyes closed, hands out in that famous yoga pose, seeking wisdom.  How the hell were you supposed to empty your mind and breathe when you were cramping up all over the place or going numb?  No, much better to walk…

Alexander Graham Bell’s: “When one door closes another door opens, but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us,” came to mind.

Smiling, she stepped over the chain.

 

Friendship – Friday Fictioneers

Another week, another Friday Fictioneers.  As always, a huge thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, author, illustrator, and all-round lovely person, celebrating her fourth anniversary as leader of this group of characters.  Thank you to Peter Abbey for supplying a photo that took me back!

Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to or click on the Blue frog to read more stores based on this photo or, go crazy, add your own!

Word count: 100

Genre: Memoire

Friendship

 

peter-abbey11

Copyright Peter Abbey

We met on her birthday. September 18, 1981.  She had just turned 17.

How many times I entered the locker room to the sound of “Daaaaaaa-yo! Me say Daaaaaaa-aaaa-aaaa-yo!  Dale no come ‘coz she’s gone to French!” sung at the top of their lungs.  Roxanne and Caroline, long-time friends.

Somehow, it became Roxanne and me.

Never could I have guessed how deep our friendship would become:  love, heartbreak, marriages, births of children, death, heartache, divorce and laughter, so much laughter.  There for each other through thick and thin.

And then it wasn’t.  A fence went up.  And now it’s too late.  She’s gone.

 

More Than Play – Friday Fictioneers

Wednesday is here as is Friday Fictioneers.  Rochelle is working on her third book in her fabulous trilogy – I cannot wait!  So, our hostess is on summer hiatus and is sharing beloved past posts.  However, for me, they are all new!  Thanks to Douglas M. MacIlroy for this fun photo.  If you would like to give your interpretation, please click here for the hows and whats.  Just want to read others?  Click on ze Bleu Frogue.

©Douglas M. MacIlroy

Copyright Douglas M. MacIlroy

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  100

More Than Play

There she was, Julie Cousteau, discoverer of all things ocean.  The best of the best.  For hours she’d live in her underwater world; learning, sharing her discoveries, one with the ocean.  She felt so at home there.  Why was that?

Her reverie was broken by a rap on her head, followed by a snarky: “What’re you doing, Dingbat?”

“I’m not a dingbat, I’m a great oceanographer”, she retorted.

“Mooooom!  Julie’s wearing that stupid helmet again!”

“Leave her alone, Ben. She’s not playing. She’s planning her future.”

“Pfft!  Girls can’t do that!”

“Oh? Now where did that foolish notion come from?”

 

Chinese Whispers – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Wednesday!  Well for the next thirty minutes, anyway… 😉  Hostest with the mostest, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has chosen a rather interesting photo this week.  Thank you Roger Bultot for setting me on a strange path with this one!

I want to apologise to my fellow FFers for my lack of participation in reading and commenting.  I started a new job last week and feel like a whirling dirvish.  I know once a routine has been set by both the golf club where I work and by myself, I will do better.  I promise!

If you are interested in reading other stories, please, by all means, click on the blue frog.  Should you feel inspired to add your story, please click on Rochelle’s name above and follow the instructions!

Get the InLinkz Code

© Roger Bultot

Copyright © Roger Bultot

Genre:  Fiction

Word Count:  100

Chinese Whispers

Did you hear Martha and George are getting divorced?

No way!  Hey, did you hear? Martha’s leaving George!

Get out, Theresa.  That can’t be.   Listen up, June, I heard George cheated and Martha’s leaving him.

Oh come on now!  That is hogwash.  Stop spreading tales.  Susie, Martha caught George cheating on her with the maid!

Gretchen, did you know? I can’t believe it, but Martha found George with the mailman!

Oh lordy, we shouldn’t spread rumours!   Francine!  Martha just found out George is gay.  She’s leaving him.

You will not believe this, Danielle.  George is dead and Martha did it!

Bleeding Out – Friday Fictioneers

A little late this week.  Couldn’t be helped.  Life and all that got in the way!  But, better late than never, I say!  Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, on a Thursday (by the skin of my teeth).  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is celebrating her fourth year as a Friday Fictioneer – first as a participant and now as a wonderful hostess.  Happy Fictioneeriversary, Rochelle!  This is, apparently, a repeat image from Madison Woods, former hostess (before my time).  Great image indeed.  Check out the other fabulous participants’ versions by clicking on the blue frog.  How about YOU try it too?

Get the InLinkz Code

©Madison Woods

©Madison Woods

Genre:  Fiction

Word Count:  100

Bleeding Out

I am bleeding out.  Oh, you can’t see the blood, but I might as well be covered in it.  I can feel it oozing from every pore.

Remember that old children’s rhyme:  “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me”?  Let me tell you, that is so not true – no matter what our folks said!  They can and do harm.  Horrid words have been slewed about this house lately, by all of us, and I feel as if I’ve blindly walked into a barbed wire fence, not my body, but my heart, ripped to shreds.

Mockery – Friday Fictioneers

Yay!  It’s Wednesday!  Time to get those brain cells fired up and come up with a story for this week’s prompt by Gail Marie Stratford.  Must admit, I had no idea where I was going though I did see the shadow first… 😉

Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, of Addicted to Purple fame, for hosting this shindig weekly.  At least once per week I am forced to get my creative juices running thanks to you!

Should you wish to participate (I warn you, it is addictive), please click on the blue frog for instructions and to add your two cents’ worth.  No? Just want to read?  You can do that too!

Get the InLinkz Code

©Marie Gail Stratford

Genre:  Sort of Fiction

Word count:  100

Mockery

I sat in my office, gazing at the city below.

How did I get here?  I never had plans to be an office drone.  It started with a week-end receptionist job at my dad’s office.  Making money was so cool.   I could buy myself stuff.  Way better than going to school!

The more I did this work, the better I became, the more I earned.  Ended up doing it for over 3o years.  I loathed it.

Hah! Even the shadow on the building flipped me the bird, mocking me.

I took it as a sign to quit, to change paths.