“Ethel, there isn’t room to swing a cat!”
“I like my Smart Car. It fits me just fine. But, I’m not the one who could stand to lose a few.”
“Well, I never!”
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That’s what the Trifectas asked us to use this time. Here, I’ll let them tell it:
“This weekend we’re asking for exactly 33 words including an idiom somewhere within. Examples of idioms include – add fuel to the fire or wear your heart on your sleeve. You can find more examples and a definition of idiom here. Good luck! ”
To see some Idiom Driven Stories… click the trike.
IN A JIFFY… a story in 333 words
Jeff’s sneakers slapped the vinyl floor as he raced for the Jewel’s exit, clerks in hot pursuit.
“I tell you, I was almost killed!” “Ethel, don’t be so damn dramatic. You weren’t ‘almost killed’, what happened?”
They were gaining on him as he pushed through the door and collided with the woman.
“Listen to me, Cheryl. I don’t know why you have to be so negative all the time.” Cheryl sipped her tea, waiting. “I was going into the Jewel, you know how I don’t like the Jewel, but I just needed some cornbread mix. Now don’t you go rolling your eyes like that. You know I like to bake!” Cheryl stopped rolling her eyes and tried to stifle herself. Ethel didn’t bake. In fact, Ethel didn’t cook, she ate out or got take-in. The only thing Ethel ever made was Jiffy Cornbread or Jiffy Popcorn… Ethel liked everything jiffy, the woman had no patience.
Ninety pounds of blond had laid him flat on his back. The beer he’d been trying to steal went flying as angry hands yanked him to his feet. The woman had fire in her eyes, and took over.
“So, there I was, on the ground with beer bottles everywhere. People lifting me up and thanking me for stopping the thief. A crowd had gathered, you know how I don’t like to be the center of attention.” Cheryl held her eyes still.
The manager had called the police. The woman Jeff bumped into was familiar. She was the one always complaining about something. It had been suggested she shop elsewhere. Now he would have to be nice to her, as she started in on him.
“Well, I tell you, the ingratitude of some people. They didn’t even offer me a reward.” The phone rang. Cheryl answered and thanked the caller for letting them know.
Jeff had slipped away during the ensuing ruckus.
“It’s your lucky day, Ethel. They want to give you the Jiffy you left on the counter.”
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The prompt this time is the third definition (as always) of the word LUCKY (adjective). To read more “Lucky” stories of 33 to 333 words, click on the trike.
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Everything you will need to cook like Ethel…
The Scriptorium had been an easy mark. At the subway, the sack broke, sending words cascading down the stairs to the platform. People helped. A tiny girl brought three over, in cupped hands… Remember, Rain, Rebellion.
KEEP ON PUSHING!… another 100 word story
It was hard dirty work. He thought, when reaching this stage of his life, he could just rest. But, it hadn’t worked that way. Not only was he in a dark and confined space, but just a few days ago they put in a new guy next door, he was making a lot of noise every time he pushed. It bothered him, affected what little sleep they were allowed.
“Hey there! Stop groaning, you’re waking the dead!”
“Sorry, can’t help it. I’d heard they said we did this, but these Lilies are heavy.
“It’s supposed to be Daisies, you idiot!”
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HER HEARTS… A 33 word story
I got a call. “I need your help making something.” “Okay, what?”
“A stone heart for Sammie.” “Sammie’s a dog.”
“I know, I want to honor him.” “Okay, then let’s do Buddy too.”
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A dear friend in Sacramento had two miniature poodles. They were brothers, and had been show dogs… Sammy had died. She wanted to make memorial stones to place in her garden. She had studied how to make stepping-stones, so we went to the hardware store and got a bag of cement. Buddy was still with her, so we got him to ‘autograph’ his stone… he was not pleased about that. Susan was so happy with them (and we had a lot of cement left over), that we ended up making some more for past and present dogs. Later, a friend who saw them, asked us to make one for her sister who had loved Betty Boop. It’s a nice idea, I think… Garden Art with a Meaning.
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He paused, sweaty in his efforts pushing the old car. ‘Damn thing! Oh well, that’s what you get when you own a classic! Classic piece of shit right now.’ At least it was small, thank God for that. He resumed pushing. The car glided down the street, only the squeak of the wire wheels breaking the stillness.
A passerby. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m pushing a car!”
“Do you want some help?”
“I’m sorry, that was rude. I can’t leave my car on the street, it would be gone. I’d love some help.”
Here is the photo prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneers stories, by Beth Carter… a writer high in the Ozark hills. Wait a minute… did that sound right? Anyway, it is quite a photo, and it won Beth the blue ribbon in the Ozarks Writers League photo contest in February.
As soon as I saw the wire wheel in the corner, I knew what I would write. The photo up top is the only picture I have of my first car… a 1955 MG TF-1500. That is my sister Marja showing off the cars for a car show. It appeared in the Sacramento Union in 1977. My car is the little one. I could not tell you how many times I pushed that car.
Ruth hadn’t glazed a pot in what seemed like, forever. He always did that part. Her ‘job’ was the throwing… his, the decorating. Such awards they had received. But he wasn’t helping anymore. She had decided on a simple sgraffito cut through the soft slip. Selecting a chisel ended bamboo for her doctor, she wondered if she was up for the task.
He loved Temmoku, and though she disliked working in stoneware, it seemed only fitting. She had found a glaze he made years ago, before she had insisted they use only porcelain. A near-black, which could break to an iron-red at the right temperature creating a fire-change. A bit of Titanium added as doctor to the process. He would be so pleased.
She had decided on just their marks intertwined with his name, as she pushed through the soft clay. No dates.
There would be comparisons, of course. Ruth didn’t care. This was to be her last work. Her tears would only add to the decoration.
Trifecta Writing Challenge Week Sixty-Six : Write 33 to 333 words using the third definition of the word: DOCTOR (noun) a : material added (as to food) to produce a desired effect ~ b : a blade (as of metal) for spreading a coating or scraping a surface
Temmoku is a type of glaze popular in Japan. It is used on stoneware and is a very complicated process. Sgraffito is a form of decoration, scratching through the surface of a glaze to reveal the clay beneath, or another glaze, before firing.
I named her Ruth to honor my first ceramics teacher, Ruth Rippon. An amazing artist and a wonderful teacher. Nobody but Ruth would glaze her work.
This photo of Ruth in her studio in 1980 was taken by Kurt Fishback. One of her most famous works is called The Lollies, and can be found in Sacramento. I don’t know who took the photo of young Ruth above.
♫♪”Stop! In the name of love.”♩♫ I can’t get it out of my head.
Not ‘Starbuckie’, think ‘parents old furniture’ type. We met in line, she looked sad. I was nice. She was going to karaoke and her eyes said she wanted me to go. I did, she was kinda cute. She sang Diana Ross to me.
♩♭♬ “I’m aware of where you go”♬ She’s everywhere, even when I jog.
She was fun for a while. I didn’t lead her on. I didn’t know what to do.
♭♪♪”Before you break my heart”♭♪ Couldn’t do that.
“I want my lawyer now.”
Another 100 word song for Friday Fictioneers… The photo prompt was taken in Jeonju, South Korea by David Stewart, one of our Sci-Fi Fictioneers… he lives in Korea… check into the Green Walled Tower sometime. Also, if you read sheet music… I don’t… zip it up! And, Rich… I am not counting the musical notes as words.
Here’s where to find the other stories based on this fantastical statue. My friend Parul said “Perhaps his photography skills added to the intrigue!” I quite agree. Glad he didn’t lose his Nikon.
“Oh what a tangled path we weave.”
“My, aren’t you the dramatic one! But you’ve got the quote wrong, I don’t think it’s path.”
“What are you talking about, of course it is. It’s by Shakespeare.”
“Not! I’m gonna look it up.”
“Go right ahead Miss Google-Pants.”
“Web, Ethel. It’s ‘web’, not ‘path’. I think it was by Sir Walter Scott, not Shakespeare.”
“Think! Don’t you give me ‘think’, Cheryl, you know damn well who it is, you just looked it up for Christ’s sake!”
It seems Ethel’s Trifecta woes continue. This week’s challenge was the third definition of Path..
Here is what Cheryl found at Wikipedia…