Send in the Clowns… 100 Words for FriFicSend in the clowns…
“Hey Cheryl it’s Ethel guess what?”
“Hi Ethel, what’s got you so excited today?”
“Guess what’s at the United Center?”
“OK, I’m waiting to guess, what is it!”
“You know I hate circuses!”
“But all the acts, the animals, the clowns are so exciting!”
“Especially the clowns, I don’t like clowns.”
“But these are special ones, the’re Okies, and they have red noses.”
‘Don’t all clowns have red noses? And what are okie clowns?”
“They’re clowns from the Ozarks.“
“Oh for God’s sake Ethel, Okies are from Oklahoma. Hey!!! Aren’t we supposed to be talking about Dale’s waterfalls today?”
With apologies to two of my favorite writers from the Ozarks.
Here’s a story I always liked…
“OF COURSE NOT, SILLY!”
“Until the day I die, I’ll never forget those glassy, unblinking eyes.” Her last words. She has been in a catatonic state since that day.
Elizabeth Grace had been a promising designer, and her sudden decline had been most disturbing to friends and colleagues.
After graduation, she had taken a position at Albrecht’s Department Store, as an assistant window dresser. She fared well under the tutelage of Miss Bethany, and advanced to first assistant in just months. Feathers had been ruffled.
It was just after Albrecht’s shipment of new mannequins arrived that it began. Elizabeth started talking to the old ones. People noticed. She had not done that before.
Hammered by younger hipper stores and internet shopping, Albrecht’s Department Store had been in decline for years, something had to be done. When Oswalt Albrecht III came on board, all department heads had been instructed to find…
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I do not reblog a lot of writer’s work, but I am so loving my friend Björn’s poem I wanted to share it.
The late Mrs. Emel Mackenzie
always came early to better
be able to notice
the lateness of others,
and hence at her funeral
the pews had started to fill
an hour before
the service had started,
but when she safely was buried —
A second Quadrille for Kim at dVerse.
October 22, 2018
Going Green… a Drabble for FriFic…A telephone rings in Chicago…
“Hi, Cheryl. Guess what, I’m going green.”
“Yep, I’m turning over a new leaf, no pun intended. I’m a recycler now.”
“Oh really? How long have you been green?”
“Three days. I’m building a compost pit too and need some help digging. I’ll need some worms.”
“Wait a minute. I’m not touching any worms, and what do they have to do with going green?”
“Less stuff in the landfill, the worms eat the stuff you put in the pit and make fertilizer or something like that.”
“Ethel, you have one planter box in your window.”
“I know, exciting huh?”
This story is dedicated to my sister Mariya…
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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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.”
⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️
Oh for God’s sake, Ethel!… a drabble for Fri Fic
A telephone rings…
“No??? I haven’t said anything yet, Cheryl!”
“I know exactly what you’re going to say today, Ethel. And, it’s a hairbrained idea.”
“Okay, Miss Marple, what?”
“You’ve been obsessed with American Ninja Warrior and your favorite is Meagan Martin, a rock climber. Right so far?”
“I thought so! REI just opened a new climbing wall and you want to do it.”
“I think it would be fun.”
” I think it would be crazy, and I don’t need to take you to the emergency room again. Ask Betty to go, she likes the Red Wings, now that’s crazy.”
Meagan… not Ethel REI in Seattle
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Photo Prompt by CEAyr for Friday Fictioneers. Check out the other writers to see what they did with this image.
Thought I’d bring this back for St. Pat’s Day this Friday…
Quill Shiv has a new Haiku writing prompt… A photo of Saint Patrick.
Corned Beef and Cabbage Tacos… In 1986, back in my Restaurant Days, I went to work for Jerry Franco. Jerry was a bit of a culinary impresario on the Sacramento restaurant scene. He had just reopened The Town House on 21st Street, down the block from The Sacramento Bee newspaper. The Town House had been a Mexican Food tradition, and had been sitting empty for a few years after the owner retired. Franco had opened in a blaze…
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A JUKEBOX AT EVERY TABLE… a Drabble for FriFic
A telephone rings on the Northside of Chicago…
“Hi, Cheryl, it’s Ethel.”
“It’s December 21st, I assume you want me to help you with your Christmas decorations again. Why can’t you do them early like everybody else? I’ve still got shopping to do.”
“No, no, I’m done with them. I’ve got a hankering for a chili dog, and there’s a new place in Cicero I want to try.”
“For God’s sake, Ethel, just go to the Devil Dog on the corner. You know how far Cicero is, right?”
“Yes, but this place has a jukebox at every table. And, there’s a WalMart next door.”
“Oh… okay, I’ll go.”
Roger Bultot’s photo reminded me of fun times and good eats in the past and prompted the girls to take a trip. Thanks to Rochelle for prompting me to write a story.
While looking for one of my old stories, I came across this one, which I always liked. I thought I’d bring it back for another reading.
Last Chanceby Max Welton
It is hard going, but the demolition is scheduled for tomorrow. The brush that started at your ankles now reaches chest height, the fence is in sight. Past bulldozers, poised like fierce beasts to devour the hapless sanitarium, you enter the north wing and hunt for room #36. An excited sadness overwhelms you as you search her room for what was hidden within the wall. After the accident her decline had been swift. Seventeen years since you learned the truth about Daisy, it’s now or never. An unseen hand guides you to a loose wallpaper patch, glittering Art Deco reveals itself. Her bracelets are safe once again.
✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼
FROM THE DESK OF MAX WELTON
So, that’s it! The start to my first novel. …
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