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.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie… This week Yves has challenged us to write a story using these words:
(image of earthworm by BIOLOGY JUNCTION)
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?”
💡 💡 💡 💡 💡 💡 💡 💡 💡 💡 💡 💡
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…
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.
FOLIAGE… a Drabble for FriFic
A telephone rings in Wicker Park…
“I’m pissed, Cheryl.”
“Well helloooo to you too. What’s up now?”
“You know the pretty foliage I like to look at? They’re cutting it down!”
“You got me. Where?”
“Outside my kitchen window!!!”
“That ratty ivy next door? I wouldn’t call that ‘foliage’, Ethel. Why?”
“They’re going to paint the bricks!”
“But, Cheryl, paint? I complained to the painters, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“For crying out loud, Ethel, that’s not who you talk too.”
“I was told ‘time marches on, lady’, so rude! It’ll be ugly.”
“How ’bout getting a window shade?”
“I should have called Betty! Good-bye!!!”
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
Loved this week’s photo prompt, by Roger Bulltot, of the Renwick Ruins on Roosevelt Island. Originally a smallpox hospital built in 1856 and claimed to be the most haunted spot in NYC. You can read such a story right here… Tour Guide at Roosevelt Island.
(I trimmed Roger’s photo a bit since brownstones in Chicago don’t have lawns that large)
Get Off The Pot! A drabble for Friday Fictioneers
‘What is taking her so damn long?’, thought Ethyl. She had to pee and was dying for a cigarette, having just taken up smoking recently. “Cheryl, hurry up!!!”
“Hold your horses, Ethel.”
Ethel was tired of holding her horses. And there it was again, those tones, very faint, so familiar. Just then it dawned on Ethel. “Dammit, Cheryl, I know what you’re doing. You are sitting there playing Trivia Crack on your phone with Frances while I have to pee!!!”
“I’m doing no such thing!”
“I can hear the frigging wheel go round”
“I’m… dammit!!! Now look what you’ve done!”
⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿ ⦿
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.
SPRING PLANTING… a drabble for FriFic
The phone rings in a brownstone in Chicago…
“Hi, Ethel, what’s up!”
“Spring!!! That’s what, Cheryl.”
“It’s 36 degrees out, what makes you think it’s Spring?”
“The landlady is planting flowers and she always does that on the first day of Spring. But I don’t like her new planter.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s a porcelain throne, Cheryl!!!”
“What the hell are you talking about, Ethel? What’s a porcelain throne?”
“As if you’ve never hugged the Porcelain Throne, goody-two-shoes. It’s a commode. A loo.”
“For Christ’s sake, Ethel, speak English!”
“It’s a toilet, dammit! In front of my house!!!”
Ethel and Cheryl have returned to Friday Fictioneers! Rochelle threatened to steal this photo from TedBook’s DAILY PICS, and it looks like she did! To read more stories based on this photo or write one of your own, click on the frog.