Friday Fictioneers… A DRABBLE POLITICK

 

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A DRABBLE POLITICK… with apologies to my friend Björn Rudberg (a real poet)

“Oh no, something is out-of-order I fear!”

“What possibly can be wrong, Father Dear?”

“You are leaning to the Right,
Your education has a Blight.”

“But, I’m graduating Today,
I must make my own Way.”

“Why can you not See,
That you should follow Me?”

“Because you see Blue and I see Red,
Does not mean I’m off in the Head.”

“Oh no, your mind is Fine,
I just mean, your path should be Mine.”

“Father, if Truth be Told,
Your ways be Old.”

Dear Daughter, I thought you would be Arty,
What is with this Tea Party?”

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friday-fictioneers

Well… Where did This come from???  I don’t write poetry.  But I’m always inspired when I read Björn Rudbergs Writings, a must for all Poesyphiles.

Of course, the photo of where I am sure Jennifer Pendergast walked the ‘Hallowed Halls’… not sure if it’s Oxford or Cambridge… was the inspiration.

For other stories about Jen’s photo… FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

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I am especially proud of two stories I have written recently… What’s in a Name? and Don’t be Silly… please read them and let me know what you think.  I think I’ll stick with prose.

 

 

THE SPEAKEASY #163… What’s in a Name?

THE SPEAKEASY #163... What's in a Name?

WHAT’S IN A NAME?

‘Seven plus seventeen equals twenty-four, a nice round number, I like that.’ Bendel Banks was on her way to the public library to change her life. Bendel hated her life. Bendel hated her name. She blamed her misfortune on her parents, who had named her Bendel Banks. Her mother had been a big fan of alliteration, and Bendel had paid the price all her life.

People called her “Bendy” and then, “Hey, there goes BeeBee!” She always thought that sounded like two honeybees stuck together. Little Teddy had first called her that. Their friend Grant thought it should be BB, like the shot in their air-rifles. Grant and Little Teddy had always been her best friends, but now they were gone. They had carried those BB guns everywhere and took great delight in shooting each other. Once they shot Bendel… she told, and that was the end of the guns. She didn’t mind so much when they called her BB, but hated it when others did, or worse Bendy. ‘Now’, she thought , ‘everyone should just call me Biddy, because that’s what I’ve become, an old biddy.’

Bendel was unhappy, friendless and in a job she hated. All because of her unfortunate alliterated name. She spent her free time on-line now, where she did not have to see people. Upon reading a self-help blog entitled “You Too Can Change Your Life… In Seven Easy Steps”, she decided to try Step One. She would change her name. No one would ever call her Bendy again. Things would change, and she could be a new woman, the blog said so.

Going up the granite steps, Bendel felt a lift in her spirits, maybe it was starting to work already. She pushed through the ornate brass door into the hushed interior and asked the woman at the information desk where the baby name books could be found. She had planned to open a baby name book to a page, close her eyes and stick her finger on a name. But, being a big fan of numerology, she decided to take today’s date and use that. It was July 17th, so her number would be 24. She also decided that she would use whatever name it turned out to be, no matter what.

Bendel picked out ‘Modern Baby Names’, closed her eyes and opened to a page. She held her breath and counted down twenty-four names… BETTY! Her new name would be ‘Betty’.

‘Great, so much for getting rid of alliteration. But, I like Betty, and Betty Banks has a nice sound, and I absolutely adore Betty Boop. I feel better already!’

Bendel… Betty replaced the book on the shelf. Making her way through the stacks, she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. People were smiling at her. The woman at the desk said “So nice to meet you, please come again soon.” As she got to the exit, a gentleman held the door for her and winked. Leaving her old life inside, Betty went outside.  She never looked back, she just kept walking.

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http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/fiction-challenge-badges-163/

 

I enjoyed writing this story.  With such an excellent line it work with and a very cool short film, the story just came to me somehow.  Be sure to watch the film below and read the story of last week’s winner.  Here are this week’s instructions from The Speakeasy Editor-in-Chief Suzanne Purkis:

technology is a tool

And you should use your tools wisely, right? This week’s sentence prompt, provided by last week’s winner,Ted, must be used as the LAST line in your piece.

“She never looked back, she just kept walking.”

Submissions must be 750 words or fewer, and must be fiction or poetry. You must also include a reference to the media prompt.

The video prompt is a short film by Claude Sadik, entitled The Device, which you will find below.

Please visit The Speakeasy and read the other author’s stories… tell ‘em “Ted sent me!”.

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In the photograph, I am on the left and my friend Grant is in on the right.  I do not know who the little girl is… she may be my cousin Carol, but I don’t know for sure.

100 WCGU #134…TWO OLD BIRDS IN A PHOTO BOOTH

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TWO OLD BIRDS IN A PHOTO BOOTH… A Drabble

“Cheryl!!!” (said in a whisper)

“What???” (a whisper back)

“What am I supposed to do?” (still whispering)

“What the hell are you talking about, Ethel?  Why are we whispering?” (a little louder)

“I’ve never done anything like this before.  (still whispering)

“Stop whispering, dammit. It’s a photo booth for God’s sake!!! What did you think we were doing?” (increasing louder)

“I know it’s a photo booth, Cheryl! I’ve just never done it before. Where do I look?” (normal tone)

“Here, where it says ‘Put Eyes At This Line’!!!” (very loud)

“Now what do I do?”  (normal voice)

“SMILE!”

a light flashes…

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My Aussie pal Katherine is obsessed with photo strips.  In fact so much so, she writes a fascinating blog called Photobooth Journal... which I just love.  She asked me if I would create a story using one of her photo strips, and sent me the 2 photo strip above.  Could the ladies in the strip be Ethel and Cheryl???  Who knows, but for today… they will be.

Now, I just got done reading a delightfully wicked story called Sebastian and the Night Visitors, at The Wizard’s Word.  It was written for the 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups.  I checked 100WCGU out, and this week’s prompt just clicked with Katherine’s strip.

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For my pals at Moonshine on yeahwrite… I got a notice from someone who commented on an old story of mine.  I liked this one and thought I’d share it at today’s still.

The Speakeasy #162… “OF COURSE NOT, SILLY!”

 

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“OF COURSE NOT, SILLY!”

“Until the day I die, I’ll never forget those glassy, unblinking eyes.” Her last words. She has been in a catatonic state since that day.

Elizabeth Grace had been a promising designer, and her sudden decline had been most disturbing to friends and colleagues.

After graduation, she had taken a position at Albrecht’s Department Store, as an assistant window dresser. She fared well under the tutelage of Miss Bethany, and advanced to first assistant in just months. Feathers had been ruffled.

It was just after Albrecht’s shipment of new mannequins arrived that it began. Elizabeth started talking to the old ones. People noticed. She had not done that before.

Hammered by younger hipper stores and internet shopping, Albrecht’s Department Store had been in decline for years, something had to be done. When Oswalt Albrecht III came on board, all department heads had been instructed to find new ways to bring in shoppers, or look elsewhere for employment. In Display, it was Elizabeth who suggested that changing to more stylish models would certainly bring in younger shoppers. “After all”, she said “they have been here since my grandmother was a child. Besides, they’re falling apart. I had to use one of the men’s hands on a lady, to hold her purse.” Oswalt III thought that was a great idea and authorized a sizable expenditure. Miss Bethany was pleased she would keep her job, and put Elizabeth in charge of all floor displays.

Oswalt III loved the look of the new mannequins, with their sleek unstaring faces, but could not bear to part with the old ones. “Save the old ones. I feel I know each one personally, and could not bear to see them go.” Oswalt II had grown up with them too, but was more pragmatic, since storage space was limited. “Save two dummies and all the heads.” So, the display heads were lined up on top shelves around the workroom, and the two old mannequins set in a nostalgic display.  A different set of feathers had been ruffled.

Elizabeth took her new position seriously, and could be found working late most nights. Displays were constantly being changed and mannequins dressed and redressed. No one could remember when the voices had started, but sometimes it seemed a violent argument could be heard coming from the display office. When one peeked their head in the door, only Elizabeth would be found, deep in concentration at some task. Miss Bethany was thrilled that Elizabeth had taken charge, it had made her life so much easier. When the voices started, she became concerned. The girls had always named the dummies, and she could only imagine how many different names those old mannequins must have had over the years. Even old Oswalt had his favorites, and called some of them by name. But Elizabeth had taken the relationship to a new level. Miss Bethany knew she talked to them, and swore she had heard them being asked for their advice. But try as hard as she might, she could not catch her. When she asked point-blank, Elizabeth smiled and said “Of course not, Silly!” Miss Bethany had never been called silly, but was not going to press the point, since she had been given a raise and was smart enough to know how she got it.  She also was not going to criticize the condition of the work room, which had gotten seemingly messier.

Suzanne in Children’s was the first to notice. Little things at first. A sweater here or skirt there askew on a dummy. Made right, it would be back that way the next day, exactly the same way. Then the switching started. Suzanne asked Mr. Silverleaf, in Men’s, if he had noticed anything strange, he said “Well I wasn’t going to say anything, but if you have seen it too.” They went over to Teen’s and checked with Jessica. Jessica suggested they talk to security, as it had to be happening at night. Mr. Kumar was not aware of any strange goings on, but agreed to have the night guy keep an eye on the displays.

When the mannequins in the windows started losing their clothes the whole store was on alert.  And then, the positions of the dummies started changing.

It was Eric who found her. The workroom was in shambles with heads strewn everywhere, their eyes pried out. Elizabeth was in the center staring down, her body shaking, calling their names.

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http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/fiction-challenge-badges-162/

The Challenge is by Editor Suzanne at Apoplectic Apostrophes: “This week’s sentence prompt, provided by last week’s winner, Bethany, must be used as the FIRST line in your piece.  Reference must also be made to the media prompt, a painting by Albrecht Dürer… Portrait of Oswalt Krel, who was a merchant for the Ravensburg House in Nuremberg from 1495 to 1503.”

Albrecht_Dürer_Oswolt_Krel

To read other stories on this week’s prompt, go to… THE SPEAKEASY

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Well, I am in shock…

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Friday Fictioneers… LET’S SMILE!

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LET’S SMILE!… a Drabble for FriFic

“Let’s take a usie.”

“Please, not the iPhone again!”

“Come on Cheryl, it’ll be fun.”

“Ever since you got that thing, you’ve been taking pictures of everything you eat and everywhere you go. Who needs that many pics of your face.”

“You should get one instead of that flip phone, it’s the fashionable thing you know. Then you can send selfies too.”

“Let me guess, a usie is a selfie of us, right?”

“Bingo, Cheryl, now scoot over here.”

“Why can’t the waitress take it?”

“Then it wouldn’t be a usie!”

“Okay, for crying out loud, I give up.”

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Author’s Note:  I had not planned to write anything like this when I saw the photo prompt.  But then I saw that USIE had entered urban slang… you can substitute me for Ethel and my daughters for Cheryl in the above story.

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Sandra Crook haunts the waterways of France in her canal boat and writes at Castelsarrison, she provided this pic to prompt the Friday Fictioneers.   More stories from Rochelle’s Flock can be found here > > > 

Ted’s Photobooth Story

tedstrutz:

I was honored to be a contributor to Katherine’s fascinating blog. I hope my friends will take a look and enjoy her work. If you have any old strips around, think about sharing them with her… and the world. Now I have to figure out how to tell Cheryl I did this… but judging by the first comments, I don’t think she will mind.

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I thought I would share this reblog with my friends at The Still, to introduce them to a most interesting blog by a friend Down Under… perhaps you too would like to share with her… check out her blog, and start digging through those old forgotten treasures and share them with Katherine at Photobooth Journal

p.s. I have heard from Cheryl… she remembered the Rainbow Club and didn’t mind at all…

 

Originally posted on Photobooth Journal:

Cheryl and Ted

One of the more exciting, and for me, unexpected aspects of being a blogger is the amount of enthusisam and generosity that comes to my inbox out of the blue and from all around the world. I have recently started following a blog by Ted Strutz of Friday Harbor, Wasington State in the San Juan IslandsUSA. The blog is called TedBook and has some very amusing conversational short stories that I encourage you to check out. Ted emailed me the above photos and the following history a couple of days ago –

When I lived in Chicago in the 80’s and early 90’s, there was a bar called the Rainbow Room.  It was quite large with a big horseshoe shaped bar, booths, tables and a stage, maybe a dance floor.  They played 33 LPs on a phonograph.  Kind of an artsy place.  There was a photo booth as well…

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MEETING THE WILD CHILD!

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MEETING THE WILD CHILD!

Not quite what I was expecting.

Well, actually that’s not true; I knew she would be beautiful (I’ve seen her photo), I knew she would be fit (she skis, plays competitive tennis… and dances, as we all know), I knew she would be interesting (I’ve read her stories and know she is writing a novel), and I knew she was tough (she’s a survivor). So I was surprised she was so tiny… well petite or svelte might sound better.

I flew into Denver with my daughter Krista so she could visit with her best friend, an actor who was starring in the musical Animal Crackers at the Denver Center Theater Company.

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Actors!

An accomplished actor and veteran song & dance man, Michael Fitzpatrick was playing multiple roles, as were the rest of the cast of this madcap zany musical, which first appeared on Broadway in 1928 starring the Marx Brothers. I knew of it as a movie and had no idea it had first been a play. While Krista and Michael relived their theatrical experiences and gossiped, I had other ideas.

michael as hives

As Hines the Butler

michael as cowboy

As Carlton with Groucho

I was on a quest to meet a special writer. She was the first to click like and comment on my initial foray into fiction writing on TedBook… in fact, it was more than that, it was the first time I had linked my blog to a group, and would be having strangers read my words (I think everyone will know the importance of that gesture… for someone scared to near-death for what they had just posted). I immediately read her blogs about kissing the Blarney Stone and seeing some frozen dead guy at a festival in Colorado. I liked her writing and instantly became a follower. I knew she lived near Boulder, which wasn’t far from Denver, so I wrote and invited her to lunch.

A short drive, on a beautiful sunny day in the Rockies, found me in my second Colorado city searching for her favorite restaurant. I found The Mediterranean, secured a table in the garden and awaited the arrival of The Wild Child.

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The Wild Child

I was not disappointed.

For my friends not acquainted with Susie, she writes Susie Lindau’s Wild Ride. We had become fellow bloggers and more importantly friends.  Every month she throws a party… drop by, say hello, and post a story you would like others to see… a great way to meet new writers.

Susie Lindeau 1

I had only met in person two blogging friends, Debra Kristi who introduced me to Thor Worship, and Douglas MacIlroy who took me to the top of Mona Loa to tour the Keck Observatory. So the chance to meet someone else I admired, enjoyed reading and sharing with, could not be passed up.

After a delightful luncheon getting to know each other and discussing family, blogging, writing and writer’s workshops, she took me on a tour of the historic Pearl District, pointing out some of her favorite places.

My Tour Guide

My Tour Guide

I saw a fabulous bookstore, where I’m sure the book she is writing will be on display in the front window someday. That will be a book signing for which I will return to Boulder, and hopefully also get to meet Roxy the Dog, Soul-mate Danny, Snowboarder Extraordinaire Courtney and Hit DJ K Smash… subjects of many of her stories, willing or otherwise.

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The Pearl District of Boulder

Susie returned to her home to do some writing and play in a tennis tournament that night… I returned to Denver to see a wild and crazy Broadway Musical, where Mr Fitzpatrick was at the top of his game, no doubt knowing his friend Krista was in the audience, and we laughed ourselves silly.

Animal Crackers

ANIMAL CRACKERS Photo by John Moore

I had a fabulous time in Boulder and Denver, Colorado.

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Since this post is about blogging and writing… I thought I would share it with some fellow writers at The Moonshine Still…

Speakeasy #159… THE LEPIDOPTERIST

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The Speakeasy #159… THE LEPIDOPTERIST

Somewhere in Chicago a telephone rings…

“Hola, Gringa!”

“Hi, Ethel. Let me guess, we’re eating Mexican food today.”

“Si, mi hermana. Arturo’s is having a burrito sale. It’s on me.”

‘On me’ coming from Ethel meant she wanted something. Cheryl was proud of her friend for sticking with the Spanish class she had found in the PennySaver, but she was not about to tell her. Most of Ethel’s ‘projects’ lasted a week at best, and it had been a while since the ceramics fiasco.

“Let me guess. You have a new hobby.”

“You know how I’ve always been interested in Entomology, I’m going to be a Lepidopterist!”

“So now you’re taking Latin? What the hell are you talking about, Ethel, some English please?”

“A butterfly collector, Cheryl. I’m going to be a Butterfly Collector!”

“Okay, first of all, where are you going to find a butterfly in the city? Second, how does this involve me?”

“I’ve already collected one.  You know how I can’t harm animals, I need you to stick the pin in when I mount it.”

“Oh right, the PETA thing. All right, I’ll do it, but only after Arturo’s.”

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Western & Armitage…

“Uno burrito pollo con extra salsa y beanos, por favor.”

“I’ll have a number seven, Arturo, thanks.”

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Later on the third floor of a brownstone in Wicker Park…

“It’s kind of drab and not very pretty, Ethel. I didn’t know you had a net, where did you find it?”

“I used a jar, Cheryl. It was on the back porch by the light. I don’t want to hurt it and besides those beady little eyes give me the creeps. That’s why you have to do it”

‘All right, give me the pin. Where do you want it?”

It fluttered for a moment, magnificent in its struggle, then wilted and lay still.

“One thing, Ethel. I hate to break your butterfly bubble, but I’m pretty sure that’s a moth.”

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Speakeasy Managing Editor Suzanne Purkis has issued these instructions for this week’s entry in the writing contest:

  • Submissions must be fiction or poetry.
  • You must include the following sentence ANYWHERE in your submission: “It fluttered for a moment, magnificent in its struggle, then wilted and lay still.
  • You must also include a reference to the media prompt.  An American Silver Fox  by John James Audubon

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The sentence is courtesy of last week’s winner… A Z Gringa in the Bleached Bone Valley.  Her story is called No Time For Patience I loved it, and you will too.

 

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Incidentally, if ever in Chicago… Check out Arturo’s Tacos in Bucktown.  Fond memories of fabulous burritos after closing the bars…

arturos

FIRST COMMUNION ON EASTER SUNDAY… What better day?

tedstrutz:

Thought I’d put this on TedBook for Easter!

Originally posted on TedBook's DAILY PICS...:

FIRST COMMUNION ON EASTER SUNDAY... What better day?

Gael celebrates his First Communion with his family.  I have a feeling Netty will be in big trouble when Maria sees this photo.  I was honored to be asked to attend.

Fr. Hung Nguyen blessing the three children participating in their first Eucharist, at Saint Francis Church in Friday Harbor

Fr. Hung Nguyen blessing the three children participating in their first Eucharist, at Saint Francis Church in Friday Harbor

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My pal Gael

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Friday Fictioneers: CHERYL DOES A JIGSAW

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CHERYL DOES A JIGSAW ~ A Drabble for FriFic

“Hi Cheryl, it’s Ethel. How’s the puzzle going?”

“It’s a bitch, that’s how it’s going. You know how I like to start with the corners. Why in hell would you give me a round puzzle? And so much purple! You better get over here and help me.”

“It’s fuchsia, Cheryl. That’s fuchsia flowers from Hawaii.”

“So I gathered, Ethel. They’re pretty, but a butt load of fuchsia pieces to put together and no corners to get me started, so get over here.”

“Okay, shall I stop off at Pizza Doug’s and pick something up?”

“Great idea, round puzzle… round food!”

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Interesting photo prompt from Captain Douglas M. MacIlroy… wearing his diving helmet while terrorizing children on the Big Island.

Check out Friday Fictioneers to read other stories, and be sure to read Rochelle’s.

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For more information about flash fiction, check out this post by Krista on The Daily Post

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