In the basement of a three flat walkup in Wicker Park…
“I don’t know why you are tossing perfectly good hair curlers, Cheryl.”
“I’ve got no further use for these, Ethel, that’s why.”
“Look at this macrame pot hanger, why aren’t you using it.”
“I hate it.”
“I love this old chair, what’s wrong with this.”
“It’s broken and I’ve got a new chair, you know that.”
“Love these decorations.”
“Ethel, you’re supposed to be helping me take this stuff out to the curb. If you love it so much take it home.”
“I don’t want your junk, Cheryl.”
The prompt I used was… I’ve got no further use for these. The other two were… writing is like sex and courage is a weapon. Knock yourself if you want to write some flash fiction.
Here is what I got in 25 mins or less, as directed by tnkerr. As with almost all Ethel & Cheryl stories… 100 words exactly.
Thought I’d also share this one with AnythingGoes!
“Hi Cheryl, I’ve got some bread, it’s going to be a peristeronic kind of day!”
“Oh. boy, where’d you get this one?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your word of the day, Ethel. Merriam-Webster, or that Google one?”
“Sammi Cox, she’s that writer I like.”
“You could’ve just said, let’s feed some pigeons.”
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Want to take part in the WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT#168? Write a story or poem with just 53 words, no more no less, and send it to Sammi Cox.
“Mommy, why would they call a man a penguin?”
“Where did you hear that, Sally?”
“I was watching TV and they showed a guy with a number eighty-seven on him and said he was a penguin.”
“Were you watching sports? What were they doing?”
“I guess, it was a bunch of guys skating around and fighting. They said he was the best.”
“Oh, that was ice hockey. I think the team in Pittsburgh is called the Penguins. Did you know your Aunt Betty loves to watch hockey. She likes the team in Detroit, so you can call her a Redwing.”
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My prompt today is one of my BFFs who loves to watch Ice Hockey and root for her favorite team… it is not the Penguins.
“Sally! Come here this instant!!!”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little overly dramatic, Dear? What’s she done now?”
“You know what she’s done, Mother. Look at this mess, she let Bobby get into the finger paints. I told her to keep them away from him, and she left them laying out. Where is that girl?”
“Maybe you should talk to Bobby?”
“You know Bobby doesn’t understand things.”
“Maybe if you spent more time with him, showed him how to finger paint, he wouldn’t make a mess.”
“Easier to yell at Sally.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I truly am.”
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Trip to Dick Blick’s
“Exciting news, Cheryl!”
“Well, hi to you too, Ethel.”
“Sorry, I know you like me to say hello first, but I’ve got big news.”
“You always seem to have big news. Spill it.”
“Kristi has accepted me into her class.”
“Okay. Who’s Kristi?”
“The painter you liked. You know I love her paintings and how I’ve always wanted to do watercoloring.”
“Is this that crazy one at the Bucktown crafts fair?”
“Yes, and she teaches classes. I’m accepted!”
“How much to get accepted?”
“Only $45 a class. I’ve a list, come to Dick Blicks with me
“Okay, Blicks is always fun.”
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I don’t think I need to give credit to the photo prompt this week, anyone knowing Rochelle Wisoff-Fields will know why. Be sure to read her story and the accompanying link for a fascinating look at a painter’s too short life.
To read more stories by Friday Fictioneers writers click the frog above. This week I stole him from my neighbor to the north Delectable Dale (I’ve never figured out how to add a link to an image so I have to ‘borrow’) She has a good story too.
Near the end of the Zoom class, Sadie took a sip of her white zin and said to her friends, ” I don’t know what to do with this assignment.”
“What is it?”
I’ve gotta write a flash fiction using the word Hinterland, no idea what that means.”
“You’ve a dictionary, right?”
“Oh for God’s sake, Beth, ask Alexa, Sadie.”
“No Google it,” chimed in Marcie.
“No, no ask Siri.”
“Please, Donna, Siri doesn’t know everything.”
“I think maybe a movie,” offered Betty.
“Sammi’s here, I’ll ask her.”
Want to take part in the WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT#166? Write a story or poem with just 87 words, no more no less, and send it to Sammi Cox.
Aaron leaves the new flowers for Sara and takes the old ones back home.
In a back room, his favorite framed photograph of her attached to the door, he leaves last week’s flowers inside, it is getting harder to shut the door, he thinks he may need to start another room soon as this one is getting full, it would be the third room, so long ago she left, now he only counts years, at first it was hours, then days, he hopes he does not have much time left, but then he always thinks that on flower day.
Aaron heads outside to tend to his rose garden.
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When I saw this photo prompt chosen by Nekneeraj for MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge #323 it immediately made me think of one of my favorite art pieces and a story began to form.
Rose Window is an encaustic painting by Friday Harbor artist Fiona Small. I saw it at an art show, in 2012, and immediately bought it before anyone else could. I liked that she made the frame also, and have always put a few of my miniature roses on the ledge. They dry up and fall out over time. Lots of roses in bloom now, I will have to pick some new ones for my Rose Window.
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“Sally!!! If you ask me one more time today what time it’s coming, I’m putting you on a time out!”
“It’s on the truck. Supposed to be here today! Why isn’t it here?”
“Well today’s not over. What do you mean it’s on the truck? How do you know that?”
“Gramma showed me. She said it’s coming today and I want that Barbie.”
“Oh for god’s sake you have enough Barbies! How are you getting another one?”
“My nice gramma ordered it.”
“Well ask her or get dressed and wait on the porch for the UPS guy.”
‘”Nah, gonna play Barbies now.”
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Got this story the moment I saw the photo… Thanks Rochelle…Friday Fictioneers
More stories inspired by Jean Hays’ photo…
Thought I’d share with AnythingGoes…
“Don’t take a cavalier attitude with me, young lady,” said mother.
Perplexed, Little Sally went to find Grandmother.
“Gramma, what’s cavalier mean?”
“Oh heavens, where on earth did you hear that, child?”
“Mommy said I was a cavalier.”
“Really, were you being naughty? What did you do?”
“Nothing, of course, she just said it.”
“Well, it means you were disrespectful.”
“Oh, okay, thanks.”
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Want to take part in the WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT#165? Write a story or poem with just 64words, no more no less, and send it to Sammi Cox.
“I”m in a fine kettle of fish. The nerve of that cop.”
“I told you you were going too fast, Ethel, you never listen to me.”
“I do too, Cheryl.”
“Then why do you have a speeding ticket, and in a school zone at that!”
“There is no school in session now, Cheryl, I don’t see why I have to go twenty-five.”
“Until they change the signs you have to go twenty-five.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I’m shocked, you tell me I have to wear a seatbelt because it’s the law.”
“Well it is.”
“Well so’s twenty-five in a twenty-five.”
Early one morning, a girl is in the kitchen…
“Sally, what language, that’s not lady like.”
“Well, I’m not a lady yet.”
“With talk like that you never will be. Why are you up so early and what’s the problem, honey?”
“I was hungry. I put my raisin bread in and I can’t get it out. It’s stuck and I want it.”
“I thought I smelled something. Did you lift the lever up-and-down?”
“Why would I do that?”
“That’s how you get it to pop up.”
Little Sally flicks the lever…
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