The separation had been easy for Little Sally, as she watched the two halves of the worm wiggle under her surveillance.
“Wash your hands! I don’t want that feral grunge giving you the chills”, called out Mother. “I mean it, Sally!”
She always though Mother was full of hogwash when it came to science experiments; gurgling with glee watching the wiggling, Little Sally was blissfully unaware of upcoming consequences as she stuck a wedge of Stilton cheese into her mouth. For Mother was heading towards her to enforce the hand washing policy with the business end of a wooden spoon.
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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie… This week Yves has challenged us to write a story using these words:
(image of earthworm by BIOLOGY JUNCTION)
I never did know why he wanted to be on Survivor. He said it was to ‘find himself’. I always thought that was bullshit, myself. I’d go for the adventure, to search for idols, see the chicks in their bikinis. Actually underwear, that’s what they make them wear. I would’ve been self-conscious doing that, just my luck they would choose something dorky for me to wear. Remember Phillip’s pink briefs? The weather wouldn’t bother me, just the rice. Jeff snuffed his torch first.
I wonder if he ever found himself, and where the hell is he, he never came home?
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Survivor is my favorite television show. Susan Eames told me she used to live in Fiji and took this photo there. That’s where Survivor is filmed, how about that?
To read the other stories by FF Writers prompted by the guy in the tree, here’s the frog link. And what the hell! It’s barely noon on Wednesday and 39 writers have already posted stories. It’s FRIDAY Fictioneers, people!
A telephone rings on Chicago’s Northside…
“Hi, Cheryl, you used to teach swimming, I’ve a question.”
“I’m all ears, Ethel. Why do you ask?”
“You know how Betty got me started being a fiction writer, my blog? Whadda call the animal strokes?”
“Oh yes, your blog. I haven’t seen much writing there lately, thought you gave that up.”
“Writer’s block. Betty sent me the latest photo prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, there’s a picture of this woman swimming also. Story!”
“Not that one.”
“No, isn’t there a frog one?”
“The breast stroke is also called the frog kick, Ethel.”
“Great! Perfect title too.”
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Betty tells me that Ethel is busy writing her first Friday Fictioneers story, but she’s having trouble sticking to the 100 word limit. If you want to write a story, everything you need to know is in the photo below, I think that may have been the one Ethel saw. The official prompt photo is at the top of this page, please use that one for your story.
“Hi, Cheryl, instead of mass this week I want to go to a Jewish church, because of what happened in California.”
“I think they are called synagogues, Ethel, or temples.”
“No, temples are the Mormons, you like their singing.”
“Love the choir, Ethel, but I’m pretty sure the Jews go to temple too.”
“I guess I can look in the phone book for a Jewish church.”
“Oh for God’s sake. They are called Synagogues or Temples!!! Google it.”
“I’m going to ask Rochelle, she’s super Jewish and writes books.”
“I think it would be nice to go, let me know.”
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When I first saw the FridayFictioneers prompt photo by Roger Bultot I thought of having the girls go to church, then I saw the Star in the window. You may know Ethel’s friend Rochelle, she’s written some books.
“Hi, Cheryl. Guess what, I’ve changed my lucky number.”
“No more 36? Ethel, why do you call so early?”
“I waited till nine.”
“On Sunday that’s early. What’s the new number?”
“Oh, Michael Jordan.”
‘No, silly, you know I don’t like basketball.”
“The Lord is my Shepherd? And, don’t tell me you aren’t religious anymore.”
“I’m still Catholic and that’s my favorite verse, but not it.”
“Well, I’m done guessing, so tell me or get off the phone.”
“You know my interest in Cytogenetics, 23 is the number of chromosomes in a human sex cell.”
“I’m making coffee now.”
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“Hey, Ethel, I’m stopping by Starbucks on my way over. Want coffee?”
“I only drink tea, Cheryl.”
“Oh really, since when? You had a latte at lunch yesterday.”
“Since last night. I read coffee is bad for you. It’s a stimulate, you know.”
“Everyone knows that. In moderation it’s fine, you just don’t know how to moderate. And, you are hyper enough without any added stimulation, Ethel.”
“Well, thank you for that, Cheryl.”
“Well, I’m stopping, they have a new Cinnamon Cloud Macchiato on the menu I want to try.”
“Cinnamon? Macchiatos have caramel. Okay, pick me one up, please.”
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100 Words of Flash Fiction for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie for Tale Weaver
“I need you to call Rick!!!”
“Ethel, what’s wrong?”
“My car broke, I’m on the expressway.”
“Oh no!” How are you calling me?”
“A man stopped and I’m using his phone. We put the hood up but can’t see anything wrong, that’s why I need Rick.”
“Of course you can’t, I’m surprised you got the hood up.”
“The man did it.”
“I told you not to drive on the expressways, now look where you are.”
“I know where I am, Smarty, on the Kennedy at Damen, now call Rick and have him come save me.”
“Okay, stay where you are.”
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Always fun to see one of my photos used for the prompt at FridayFictioneers. Be sure to check out all the stories prompted by this old Chevy, which was left derelict in the woods many years ago near my daughter’s house on San Juan Island. My story was #79. You can find all the other stories here.
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…