Like A Top… a Drabble for FriFic
You are watching from your window, peering thru the slats of your blinds, you don’t like to appear nosy. She is in the neighbor’s yard, just spinning around. Looking up at the sun and spinning, arms raised upwards. She looks joyous.
“Who’s that little girl, have you seen her before?” you ask yourself, just curious, you don’t think they have kids.
She looks so thin, frail almost, her clothes are filthy, hair unkempt. From the doorway, the neighbors rush out and start shaking her. The man drags her to the house, the woman looks around.
You reach for the phone.
Love the photo by J Hardy Carroll, as I do love carnivals and fairs, but my story took a different direction as I thought of a recent story in the news. To see more of Friday Fictioneers’ writings click on the frog…
I thought as another new year starts I would repost this entry I made 6 years ago. Hope you have a Happy 2018… I intend to.
I never make New Years Resolutions. 1 ~ Because if you want to do something… do it. I think resolutions are a crutch to procrastinate and make yourself feel better… and you will never keep them. 2 ~ Because I never kept them. So this year, my New Year’s Resolution is to reopen TedBook and write something in it. I feel better already.
My friend Margie told me, “only 8% were ever kept”. I read that if you put it in writing, it may actually have a chance of happening. Okay, it’s in writing now… it’s all up to me… I want to be in that 8%! Yesterday I looked to see when the last entry in TedBook occurred… yikes! January 2, 2011… one whole year of silence! Another friend, Keri, reminded me of that this morning, after I mentioned I might start blogging again.
Why the silence? No…
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THE REMODEL… Six Sentence Stories
She had telephoned full of excitement, the work finally finished, the long wait over, her complaining turned to exuberance, and Cheryl was on her way over to see Ethel’s new kitchen remodel.
Cheryl was determined to be supportive, no matter what, in spite of Ethel’s half-baked decorating ideas.
“Ta da, what do you think?”
Can lights in the ceiling illuminated black lacquered cabinets with polished brass handles, highlighting opalescence tile walls, floor and sweeping counter tops.
Gasping, Cheryl took a step back, leaned against the door jamb for support, and asked her friend what she was seeing.
“Marble, Cheryl, marble.”
This week’s cue is MARBLE
Where have you gone,
can you not see me,
hear me, feel me near?
Why are you so still,
so very quiet,
unlike you, like this?
something is amiss, Dear.
I cannot see, touch, nor hear,
just sense cold, an absence,
you’re no longer here.
I don’t know what to do,
but I cannot stay,
like this, without you.
✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥
I don’t often try poetry, but when I saw this image, Woman with Long Hair by Man Ray (1929), and read my friend Björn Rudberg’s (real poet) poem RAPUNZEL’S MIRANDA… I knew I wanted to try something. The old photograph immediately reminded me of Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, a deep sadness came over me and I felt a sense of loss.
So, here’s my entry for Kerry O’Conner’s Real Toads ~ Camera Flash!
SAILING… a Drabble for FriFic
A telephone rings…
“Hi, Cheryl. Want to go sailing?”
“Are you crazy! You know I get seasick, Ethel. Who did you snooker into taking you out on the lake?”
“Not sailing sailing, silly, garage sailing.”
“What the hell is ‘garage sailing’?
“It’s when you go to garage sales looking for cool stuff.”
“Oh, right. Remember your antique-vase-phase? The last thing I want to do is follow you around while you search through other people’s worthless crap looking for something you can’t do without.”
“Well, I thought it would be fun. Hey, remember the vase I got you?”
“Okay, I did need that one.”
⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️
NO SHOE PRINTS?
“So what were they doing again?” asked the Sergeant.
“They were running around.”
“Running around. Naked, you say?”
“Yes, running around naked!”
“So, they didn’t have any clothes on then?”
“No, they didn’t have any fucking clothes on, they were naked!”
“Sergeant, we’ve finished checking the area and judging by the footprints in the garden there may be as many as six trespassers.”
“Based on the different shoe patterns?”
“No sir, no shoe prints, just bare feet prints.”
“So no shoes then?”
“Oh for fucking Christ! I told you they were naked!!!”
“Oh right, you did. We’ll look into it.”
⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿
This is one I wrote based on the artwork above for another writing group I was in and have not been able to find who made the image. I would love to know who did it so I could give proper credit, but as soon as I saw it the story seemed to write itself.
It is a take off on Salvador Dali’s famous work.