Crime Under an Assumed Name… a drabble for FriFric
“Cheryl, it’s Ethel. I need to come over and see a show.”
“Well, hello to you too, Ethel. What show has got you in a lather now?”
“CB Strike, it’s on Cinemax.”
” Why do you have to watch at my house, you have Cinemax?”
“I dropped it when I decided not to watch television.”
“Oh, but it’s okay to watch TV at my house? Why this show?”
“It was written by the lady who wrote Harry Potter.”
“JK Rollings, why haven’t I heard of it.”
“She used a fake name, Robert Galbraith, British crime story.”
“Okay, I like those.”
Somehow I missed that one back in 2012, Rochelle, I was pretty regular back then. I’ll make up for it now. Thanks to J Hardy Carroll for the prompt.
How Many Does It Take… a Drabble for FriFic
“Hi, Cheryl, it’s me, Ethel. I have a big favor to ask.”
“Ask away, Ethel?”
“Do you remember my new chandelier?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a chandelier, but go on.”
“It burned out, I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Is this one of those ‘how many does it take to change a light bulb’ jokes?”
“No, this is serious. Would you come over and hold me up so I can put a new one in? I’ll be quick.”
“Oh for God’s sake. How bout I bring my ladder and hold you so you don’t fall off?”
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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!