Wait For Us! – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday, dear Readers.  Hope your first day of Summer is filled with sunshine (for those of you in the northern hemisphere, that is) or at least, like me, with bits and spurts of sunshine between showers!  If you are in the southern hemisphere, hopefully your first day of winter is nice and mild.

We are once again gathered for a weekly 100-word story-telling session from folks all ’round the world.  Pretty darn cool, if you ask me.  And if you don’t, well that’s okay too.

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for keeping all us ducks in a row and this week, thank you to Ted Strutz for a photo that brought me back a few years to an event that is quite a memorable one.  Sadly I can only give you bits and spurts but let me assure you, the longer version is a hoot and a half.  Hopefully this one still comes through as funny.

Should you wish to participate, then by all means, click on Rochelle’s name and get the hows and whys and if you just want to read more stories, then click on the blue frog.

Get the Code

Copyright © Ted Strutz

Genre:  Remembery (yes, I decided to call it that)

Word count:  100 – always

Wait For Us!

After spending the day in Sint Maarten, we gave ourselves 60 minutes to return the Jeeps and make our way to the cruise ship.

Traffic jam!  In “downtown” Philipsburg?  Really?  Over the walkie-talkie, Sébastien said,  “If I make a move, will you follow?”

“Right”, said Mick, “Follow!  You’re crazy! We’re not even moving!”

“Just follow me!”

Movie-like, Sébastien, shifted to the left onto the sidewalk and drove past the traffic jam, pedestrians scattering in all directions.

We three families followed, dropped off the Jeeps and ran like crazy up the pier.

“Wait for us!!!” we yelled before the ship pulled away.

Looking For Ideas – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday, my reader friends.  The sun is shining (in my neck of the woods) and it has been hot and sunny and beautiful and no one is complaining – yet – about the crazy heat we have had.  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields picked my Instagram photo, taken this past April in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.  Where does this image take you?  Want to try to put it into a 100-word story?  Go ahead!  It’s fun and addictive.   Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-tos.  I actually had a totally different story brewing in my head and just may put the second one out there.  That would be a first!  We’ll see.

If you would simply like to read other takes on the photo prompt, just click on the Blue Frog.

Get the Frog Code

 

Looking for Ideas

It was a dark and stormy night and the vampires were out in blood-thirsty full force…  No, can’t do that.  Rochelle loathes vampire stories – even though she did a sorta one.

People were running in all directions, zombies on their tail…  Nope, not a fan of zombies either, though the people in the shot are going in different directions.

The whole scenario that had just been written was nothing but a dream… Ugh.  No dreams either – even though I did one way back, before I knew better!

Come on, Rogerson!  Use your imagination!  It’s your own picture for frig’s sake!

The She Shed – Friday Fictioneers

Top of the mornin’ to you, my Readers!  Been up and at ’em since 6:30 am.  Why, you ask?  Because.  Because. I dunno why but I decided to not try to go back to sleep and get stuff done!  Coffee and Friday Fictioneers seemed like the perfect place to start.  The sun is shining – YAY!  FINALLY – so I shall be taking advantage of it before it’s off to work.

Fabulous Friday Fictioneer Facilitator, Rochelle has chosen the marvellous Sarah Potter‘s lovely pic this week.  Do have a go at writing your own 100-word story, if you dare.  Click on Rochelle’s name to get the rules and regs – reallly, they are not that complicated…

Just want to read other versions?  Please click on the blue frog

Get inLinkz Code

The She Shed

When they visited the property, she spotted the old potting shed.  Her husband was quick to say they would tear it down first thing.

“Oh hell no!” she exclaimed.  “Consider it my project, darling.  I’ll fix it up.  You’ll be amazed, just you wait and see.”

He shrugged and they bought the property.

As promised, Charlotte worked on the shed diligently, ripping out the overgrowth, painting and beautifying.  When done, she showed it to Sam.

“Wow!  I’d hang out with you here!”

“Don’t think so, Bud.  Virginia Woolfe said a woman needs room of her own…   It’s my She Shed!”

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!

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!

Get inLinkz Code

©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.

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 🙂

Lost – Friday Fictioneers

Hello my Readers!  Welcome to Friday Fictioneers on a Thursday.  Couldn’t get my story onto paper, so to speak yesterday and had to rush off to work.  It ended up being a very long day so there was nothing happening in my brain last night, that’s for sure.  A little note to ya’all:  I’ll be a little slow in reading your fabulous stories as I’m back to working full-time, doing crazy hours.  I will do my best till I find a new rhythm!

Before I leave you with my submission, I wish to thank Rochelle for being the best cat-herder ever in keeping this motley crew in line week after week.  Thank you to Sandra Crook for a most lovely photo this week.  For those of you who would like to join our club, please click on Rochelle’s name for the dos and don’ts.  If you are not quite yet ready to add your two cents’ worth but would like to read more stories, please click on the blue frog!

Lost

It definitely looked beautiful from the outside.  But let’s face it, appearances are not always what they seem.  What looked fabulous to the outsider could contain a reality far from fabulous.  I needed to change my inner truth.  My nerves were beyond frayed at this point.  Hopefully not beyond repair.  I needed to get away and reclaim myself, find peace.  Peace.  What the hell was that?  I don’t know when I lost it.   Did I ever have it?  Maybe all this time I had been blind to my truth.

Welcome to our Asylum, Ma’am.  We are here to help you.