Advent Calendar Day 1 (A Little Late Because I Thought of it Before Having to Leave For Work!)

In the spirit of Christmas and the Advent Calendar that has been revamped and re-purposed in myriad ways, I have decided to do one of another sort.  Instead of taking one chocolate per day (or wine or whatever goodie is in vogue) or adding one item into a box to donate for a good cause (a very good thing, indeed) I have chosen to send a little love to my favourite blogs.

Now, this is a difficult thing to do as I am only technically allowed to have 24 entries.  However.  My blog, my choice.  There are 31 days in the month of December so, if I feel like it, I can send love to 31 blogs.  Or more.  I shall see.

I have pondered and thought and come up with a list.  It might change as I move forward and remember that I forgot ones that I love because I don’t “see” them that often or whatever.   Also, for the purposes of fairness and because I don’t necessarily love one for than another (or maybe I do) – is neither here nor there, I shall list them alphabetically!  No favouritism happening here, no siree.

Also, I am not usually a multi-post per day poster but this will happen as there are challenges I like to participate in and, who knows? I may get inspired by other stuff.  And the next Advent posts won’t ramble on like this one either 😉

As mentioned in my title, I had this wonderful lightbulb moment at like 2:30-3:00 pm.  And I had to leave at 3:30 for work.  And, ironically, it is now 3:30 am and I got home from work a mere half-hour ago.

Day 1:  Addicted to Purple

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has become more than just a Friday Fictioneer Facilitator to me over the years.  She’s become a dear friend.  I came to her blog through Sarah Potter (we’ll get to her on another day 😉 ) whom I came to via someone else.  This blogosphere is a wonderful place.  I don’t even know how or when it moved from writing a 100-word story on Wednesday-Friday to almost daily chats on Messenger to Skype sessions.

Rochelle is a wonderful writer and artist, or is it artist and writer?  Even she doesn’t know which should go first.  She has the ability, in so few words, to bring to life a person from the past, homing in on that thing that makes them who they are (or were).  She blows me away time after time.

I not only read her fantabulous trilogy and accompanying coffee table book but am also lucky enough to be privy to the birth of her next novel.

Lookit that face!  What’s not to love?

The Big Picture – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my Readers.  Our esteemed leader, Rochelle, has offered up my picture this week.  I’m beyond flattered.  A few of you mentioned that you wanted a follow up of last week’s prompt, thing that I never do, partly because I’m not clever enough and it has never occurred to me to even do so, and mostly because this challenge is to create a stand-alone story in 100-words or less…

That said, this came to me and, though it stands alone (I hope) it can also be the next part (sorta).

Should you wish to read more stories generated from this image, please click on the blue frog below.  Better yet, write your own 100-word story and add your link, then read others 😉

 

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The Big Picture

She came to, befuddled, wondering how she ended up beside this small waterfall.  The last thing she remembered was leaning in to take a picture.

Where was her camera?  She rarely went anywhere without it.

Sitting on the bank, watching the water cascade over the rocks, she tried to piece together the last, what? How much time had passed?

She heard a voice but could not discern where it came from.

“You must stop looking at life simply through a camera lens.  You’re missing the big picture as you zoom in on the little bits.  Back up, you’ll see more.”

 

 

 

Through the Camera Lens – Friday Fictioneers

Good Hump Day my Readers! Yes, it is that time of the week where Rochelle Wisoff-Fields entices us with an image and challenges us to write a 100-word story about what we see. This week she uses her very own intriguing picture. I cannot lie. I wrote something, flushed it; tried again and well. There you have it.

If you want to add your own vision, please do! It’s fun (most times!). Just click on the blue frog below and add your link.

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Through the Camera Lens

She loved walking past the old viaduct. Her friends thought it was too dangerous to walk in that area alone but she always felt a sense of peace and calm. People were so paranoid, believing they should fear every little thing.

She always carried her camera, knowing something new would catch her eye. It was her journal of sorts. Observing her surroundings, recording what was new. What secrets lay beneath the stones? How did those plants thrive?

Today, the stones moved. Curious, she leaned in, zooming her camera lens.

They found her camera but the blurred images told them nothing.

It’s Subjective – Friday Fictioneers

Had me a little free time during my little getaway, so I figured I’d try to write a little quickie FF…  Thanks always to the lovely Rochelle for being the magnet to our metal and pulling us in every Wednesday.  This week Rochelle usurped acquired legally, J.S. Brand‘s lovely photo.

To play along, why don’t you click on the blue frog below and add your 100-word story with beginning, middle and end.  You’ll see, it is a good challenge, it’s fun and it’s quite addictive.  G’head, you know you wanna…

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It’s Subjective

That’s some kinda erotica you’ve got going there.

What?  No!  This is a piece of art.

Art, eh? Erotic art.  Pretty Picasso-ish, you ask me.  I mean lookit that.  You’ve got a pastie on one boob, and some kinda bandage on the other.  The belly-button is exposed and I do not know what the heck is up with the “nether regions”.  Some kinda fancy venus mons?

Get your mind out of the gutter, will ya?  Those are eyes, one with a patch!  That’s a hat, can’t you tell?

I guess it’s not what you look at, it’s what you see…

 

Hello – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday ridiculously early morning (for me, anyway) my Readers. I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room chair hoping someone will soon give a rat’s ass about my step-father, who’s been lying on a gurney in a hallway since 7:00 p.m. (it is now 2:00 a.m.), following a fall that cracked his head open. OK, OK, not that big but the confusion he expressed following said fall is what bought him an ambulance ride here.  So, while I wait why not prepare my intro?  I’m rambling on for you all, aren’t I 🙄.

*****

It is now 3:30 a.m. and I am back home and Rochelle’s email has just popped up so why not write my story before I hit the hay?  A thank you to Rochelle for keeping us coming back week after week and, thank you to Jeff Arnold for allowing us to use his photo this week.

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Hello

She slowly woke up, naturally, no blaring from a jarring alarm clock. Eyes still closed, she smiled and stretched, feeling the delicious tenderness that comes from a wonderful night of loving. Rolling over onto her side, she slowly opened her eyes. As her surroundings came into focus, she blinked once, staring into a pair of blue eyes.

“Hello. I’m Olivia.  Can you make pancakes?”

Now wide awake, she sat upright, her hand reaching beside her to feel a cold emptiness. She looked back at the little girl.  What the hell?

“Good morning. Sleep well?  I see you’ve met my daughter.”

 

Never Again – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday afternoon, Readers… well, for those of you on Eastern Standard Time, anyway! Our wonderful leader Rochelle has once again left us with an intriguing photo, this time supplied by Roger Bultot. Dunno how my mind went where it went – just know that it is fiction! Should you want to try your hand at this lovely challenge, please click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs. It’s fun and addictive, I assure you! For more stories, click on the blue frog below. You are sure to be entertained.

©Roger Bultot

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Never Again

She lay on her back, eyes fixated on the ceiling. The lights wavered and blurred as her thoughts took her back to that time so long ago. A memory she was sure she had buried so deep it would never come back. But that’s not how it worked, did it? You could pretend something didn’t happen, even make yourself believe it didn’t; but it did. No amount of wishing it away would make it disappear completely.

She mentally shook herself back to the present. She was no longer that vulnerable girl. She would never allow that happen to her again.

Kintsukuroi – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wed… oh dear… it’s past midnight!  So, good Thursday, my friends.  Today’s Friday Fictioneers had me stumped somewhat.  Well, I knew where I wanted to go but the words eluded me.  Nothing like taking a step back and letting it swirl around, hoping to make it somewhat coherent…

Thank you, always, to Rochelle for keeping us wanting to come back week after week.  And this week, thank you to Sandra Crook for this wonderful photo.

Do join in by clicking on the blue frog below and adding your own interpretation.  It’s fun!

 

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Kintsukuroi

He stood there, stunned, chunks of his heart strewn about like shells tossed back from the ocean.

He bent down, determined to pick up the pieces, when a wave of anger overtook him.  He balled up his fist, prepared to slam it down and destroy what was left.

He felt two hands wrap themselves around his fist, stopping further destruction.  Surprised, he looked up and found her there.  Her intense gaze kept him prisoner as did her hands.

“Kintsukuroi,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s not over.  What seems permanently broken, is not.  Let me be the gold that makes you shine.

**********

I don’t usually on these posts, but Hey Rosetta has a lovely song that just fit…