“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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“I’m thinking tunafish salad sandwiches.”
“Why? Ethel, you know I don’t like fish.”
“That’s so silly, Cheryl, just because you found a bone once.”
“More than once I found bones. They don’t pull them out right.”
“You can have a Devil Dog, I hear they make good hotdogs.”
“They don’t make the hotdogs, they just heat them up.”
“Well, have a heated up hotdog then!! I know you like chili dogs.”
“Nah, not in the mood for spicy.”
“Heavens to Murgatroyd! What will you eat?!?”
“For God’s sake, Ethel, haven’t heard that in ages. I’ll have the tuna.”
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Always fun to see one of my photos used for the prompt at Friday Fictioneers… Each week, 100 some writers making up 100 word flash fiction stories at the behest of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Nice to see Ethel and Cheryl show up for this one.
Here is where to find the stories…
“Hey, what’s that Stone’s song, Fade Away or Fade to Black?”
“Not Fade Away, fool.”
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Want to take part in the WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT? Write a story or poem with just 17 words, no more no less, and send it to Sammi Cox.
I thought of my daughter Ashley, who is a huge Stones fan, when I saw this prompt. She can sing every song. You can pretend I speak the first line and she says the second.
This is a clip from the Mike Douglas Show in 1964. It’s hilarious and you do get to see them do Not Fade Away, kind of.
And, if you like Not Fade Away… have you heard Buddy Holly do it?
And… Jerry would be pissed if I left out the Dead!
Then, there’s Stevie Nicks.
And I saved the best for last… Austin City Limits… 20 musicians tearing a new one. Wait till you see who they are… I didn’t know Sheryl Crow played the harmonica… 11 guitars.
Grandma was watching a documentary, the loud drumming filling the air has caught Little Sally’s attention.
“Come in girl, sit up here with me Sally, you might like this.”
Little Sally watches the men twirling fire and women moving back and forth waving their hands.
“That’s what I’ve always wanted to be.”
“What’s that, honey?”
“A dancer. I’ve always wanted to be a dancer.”
“Since I saw these outfits. I want one, why’re they grassy?
“Because once people made their clothes out of what they could find. This honors tradition.”
“I’ll bet you can find it on Amazon.”
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Special Photographer this week, Rochelle probably didn’t have to steal this image… Photo Prompt © Jan Wayne Fields. Rochelle’s Frog of the Week holds more stories, give it a click…
I have invited an author friend of mine to join Friday Fictioneers. She started a writing blog because she wanted to try some flash fiction. What better place to start I told her. Look for GRIFFINSKEYFICTION… here is Polly’s first story… Aloha from Waikiki
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Oh look! Little Sally has found her grass skirt… only $7.95 free shipping for Prime. And you know what? This little hula skirt model is just how I picture Little Sally.
“Put the daddy in, Bobby. Do it now, I’m tired of waiting.”
Little Sally and her brother were playing doll house. Well, at least Little Sally was. Bobby was busy adjusting the arms and legs of Daddy.
“Bobby, do it now!”
“I’m tryin’ to get his legs right so he can sit on that chair.”
“They don’t bend, they’ll just have to stick out straight. Gimme that!”
“Let Bobby play too, Sally.”
“It’s my doll house, grandma gave it to me, an’ Bobby won’t play right.”
“I get to put the boys in.”
“Changed my mind, Bobby.”
Click ☞ May 3 2020
Photo courtesy of Donna McNicol
(Little Sally’s stories are always 100 words… exactly)
The piano’s in big trouble… Little Sally changed its tune.
Want to take part in the WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT? Write a story or poem with just 10 words, no more no less, and send it to Sammi Cox.
Bobby wasn’t happy. Little Sally pretended nothing was wrong.
Maybe it will go away, maybe Mother won’t hear him, maybe Mother won’t care.
“What is it, Bobby. Let me wipe those tears away, little man.”
Guess she heard.
Little Sally headed around the side of the tool shed.
“Sally!!! Come back here right now young lady.”
I’m in trouble.
“Bobby said you took his new toy, where is it?”
“Gramma gave it to me for my birthday.”
“It flew into the swimming pool.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Sally, it’s paper. How did it get there?”
“Sally flew it!”
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Photo by Francisco Echevarria on Pexels.com
“Bobby, give it back!”
“I didn’t take it, you’re being mean.” Bobby starts to cry.
“Sally, stop it now! What are you going on about?”
Bobby took my tower, it was right here.”
“Did too. Grandma gave it to me, it’s precious.”
“Did you look under the fridge, Sally, maybe it fell off.”
“Maybe the dog ate it.”
“Shut up, Bobby!”
Little Sally gets down on hands and knees and looks under the fridge.
“Gimme a flashlight, Bobby.”
“Get one yourself.”
“Mother!” Little Sally pokes around under the refrigerator with a finger. “Found it!”
“Shut up, Bobby.”
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Click Frog for more stories.
I think this is an excellent story, for many reasons. I wanted to share it.
She’d gotten in near midnight, after the evening shift at the group home. Her own home was a shambles: beer cans and wine bottles, scummy bong water, butts strewn all over the floor, some of them human. They weren’t supposed to be here.
Rodney emerged from the bedroom, a very drunk, half-clothed Britanny hanging off his shoulder, sharing his satiated grin.
“Sheralynn,” Rodney drew up his familiar shield of nonchalance. “I thought you were working a double shift.”
“They sent me home. Likely COVID exposure,” she wiped her brow, unsure if it was fever, or rage. “Everybody out. Now.”
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