Imprisoned – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday, my readers.  It is Wednesday-Friday, otherwise known as Friday Fictioneers time and I have done something I don’t usually do (okay, never do!)… This little snippet of a story is the continuation of my FF from two weeks ago.   Should you wish to read (re-read?) that one first, it is here.  I know series are mostly frowned upon in this hear group but as this just happened yesterday,  I’m feeling a tad discombobulated and needed to get it out.  Thank you for your patience!

Thank you, as always, to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for keeping us all in line weekly and this week, thank you to J.Hardy Carroll for this week’s pic.

To play along, add your link by clicking on the blue frog.  Not sure what the rules and regs are?  Click on Rochelle’s name above to get ’em!

Get the code

Genre:  Not even close to fiction

Word count:  a difficult 100 words

Imprisoned

Three months hospitalised, only five days back home.  An ambulance was called with police in case of resistance.

“Resistance?” I yelled at the social worker, “she’s an 82-year old frail woman; how hard can it be to lead her to an ambulance?  And why wasn’t I notified first?”

“I’m sorry, she wouldn’t let me in to help.  I saw her black eye and she’s dehydrated and malnourished.  I had no choice.”

“I’m sorry, Mother.  We tried it your way.  You knew the rules.”

“So I’m to be imprisoned for the rest of my life?”

“Don’t look at it that way….”

The Power of Teachers – Friday Fictioneers

Good afternoon, my faithful readers!  Yes it is Wednesday-Friday!  Time for Friday Fictioneers.  This week’s photo is courtesy of J.Hardy Carroll, a fine writer to be sure.  Our hostess is über-talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who, without fail, shows up weekly with a new challenge.  ‘Twill be most interesting to see what the 80-odd other writers in this challenge come up with.  If you should care to check it out, please click on Monsieur Frog right below.  Maybe you have an idea of your own? Then do join in!  It’s free!  It’s fun!  It’s a great way to learn how to ‘cut the fluff’ from your writing…

©J.Hardy Carroll

 

The Power of Teachers

“Ring, ring, ting-a-ling, hello.  Ring, ring, ting-a-ling hello.

When the telephone is ringing, I’m the one who comes to answer…

Ring, ring, ting-a-ling hello!

“Do you remember when Mrs. Bell made us sing that stupid song in music class?”

Lucy made a face.  “Like I want to remember that witch.  She hated my guts.”

“Really?  For me it was Miss Dunn.”

“She always made me feel so stupid…”

“Dunn marked me down, said school was too easy, I didn’t have to try…”

“Took me years to gain my self-confidence back.”

Teachers can really make or break a child, can’t they?

 

The Inheritance – Friday Fictioneers

Good afternoon, dear readers!  Welcome to this week’s edition of Friday Fictioneers.  A challenge, to be sure, to tell a whole tale in 100 words or less.  It is doable.  Truly.  I’ve been participating for over a year now.  It’s a lot of fun.  Our fearless leader Rochelle sends us a photo and man, you would not believe how many directions one image can take in the hands of all these diverse writers.  It’s great.  This week, we needs must acknowledge J. Hardy Carroll for supplying this image.

Should you wish to participate, click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs – truly, not complicated… A full story, beginning, middle and end in 100 words or LESS.  Acknowledge the photographer and Bob’s your uncle!

Now, still too shy to play?  Click on Ze bleu grenouille to check out other stories.  Ya never know, you just may be inspired to try it yourself!  G’head!  Give it a try!

Get zee inLinkz Code

Genre:  Fiction (Wishful Thinking?  A girl can dream, non?)

Word count:  Toujours 100 exactement

The Inheritance

The phone rang at 6:00 a.m.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Fred.  Zis eez Notaire Bluteau from France.  Your great oncle Tom ‘as passed away and you are ze sole beneficiary”.

“Me?  Uncle Tom lived in France?”

“Oui, oui, Monsieur.  Not only zat, ‘ee owned a vineyard in Provence and you are now ze propriétaire!  You must come to sign ze papers, as soon as possible.”

Excited beyond belief, Fred made his way to Châteaux Pompom in Arles to see his fabulous inheritance.

Vines as far as the eye could see, totally overrun with weeds; a house, right, so, at least he had land!

Don’t Fence Me In – Friday Fictioneers

‘Tis a beautiful Wednesday.  Sun is shining but still bitterly cold.  Spring, eh?  Riiiiight….

So, what better to bring our spirits up than to participate in Friday Fictioneers!  This lovely image was provided by J.Hardy Carroll and chosen by our hostess with the mostest, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  What does this picture make you think of?  Why not share that in 1oo words by clicking on the Blue Frog below and adding your version?

Get the inLinkz Code

Genre:  Fiction (ish)

Word count:  ALWAYS 100

Don’t Fence Me In

I need wide open spaces.

You can’t get around alone anymore.

So.  I still need to breathe.

So do I.  And I can’t here.

This is my home. I don’t want to leave it!

It was our home.  We have no choice.  We can no longer handle it alone.

I can’t even decide for myself now?  Have I no say?

Yes, you can decide to stay.  I, however, will not.  I’m tired.  I miss my family, who want to help us.

Tears in his eyes, his good side slumped to the now-defunct side.  I know, It’s what we must do.

 

Friday Fictioneers – Participating

 

Friday Fictioneers time already!  The weeks sure do fly.  Just so happens there will be lots of stories of war, heroes, Remembrance Day; as well there should.  I was going to resist, but I could not.  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers weekly and to J.Hardy Carroll for providing us with this thought-provoking photo.

Should you wish to add your two cents’ worth, please, click on the blue frog.  Should you simply want to enjoy reading fabulous 100-word stories from excellent writers, click on the blue frog!

©J Hardy Carroll

Word Count – 100

Participating

Today marks Remembrance Day or Veterans Day, depending on where you live.

All over social media are commemorations of loved ones who’ve participated in one war or another.

I feel so strange that there is not one member of my family, on either side, to my knowledge, who has served in the military and/or given up their life for my country.

Though I’ve graves to visit, none are for this type of hero.

Yet I wear the poppy.  And I volunteer at my boys’ school where we celebrate veterans.

“Lest we forget.” Words repeated the world over, as we should.