SAILING
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.”
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Thanks to Sarah Ann Hall for lending this photo of her antique-vase-phase to Friday Fictioneers for this week’s prompt.
FOLIAGE
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!”
“Big improvement.”
“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!!!”
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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)
Oh for God’s sake, Ethel!
Oh for God’s sake, Ethel!… a drabble for Fri Fic
A telephone rings…
“No!”
“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?”
“Well…”
“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.
Photo of Meagan Martin is by littlebangtheory at the Dark Horse Climbing Competition at Metrorock climbing gym in Everett, MA.
BOXES!
BOXES! … a drabble for Fri Flic
The light is blinking on an answering machine in a Chicago third floor walk up.
Click… ‘It’s me Ethel, call me!’
“What’s up now, Ethel?”
“Get over here right away, Cheryl!”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, what’s the rush?”
“Boxes, Cheryl, boxes full of food.”
“Oh for crying out loud! I’ll be right over.”
It’s times like this that Cheryl wished they didn’t live so close. Ethel had recently gotten an iPhone and was going crazy ordering things on Amazon. ‘Boxes of food?’
“Thanks for coming, what am I going to do, they’ll spoil.”
“Better put your Blue Apron on, Ethel.”
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This week Rochelle Wiseoff-Fields chose a lovely photo belonging to Dale Rogerson for the Friday Fictioneers to find a story in. Dale can be found writing at A Dalectable Life.
Here they are…
Get Off The Pot!
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!”
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The prompt photo by J Hardy Carroll immediately told me what Ethyl and Cheryl were up to today. Join Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and the gang to read more 100 word stories at:
A JUKEBOX AT EVERY TABLE… Friday Fictioneers
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.
Here are some 100-word stories by my friends:
THEY WRITE ON FRIDAYS… Friday Fictioneers
THEY WRITE ON FRIDAYS… a Drabble x Four for FriFic
On the Northside of Chicago, a call button is pushed…
“Ethel, lemme in.”
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“Those stairs are going to kill me. What you want to show me?”
“Check this out, Cheryl; I’m writing a story!”
“What the hell is this photo?”
“It’s my writing prompt for Friday Fictioneers. I’m going to be an author!”
“Oh spare me. Is this before the oil painting, the pottery, or the garden?”
“No, I’m serious this time.”
“You are always serious, Ethel, you just find something new the next day. Okay, what’s with this Friday fiction thing?”
“A writing group that writes on Friday’s. A lady named Rochelle runs it, and she’s written a bunch of books. Look, here’s all the people and their stories this week.”
“Hmmm… if they write on Friday, how come there’s 56 stories, it’s Thursday? Besides, they look like a bunch of weirdos to me, look at that guy with the clown nose, number 53 looks cute, though. What do you want me to do?”
“Help me think of a story, Cheryl. I thought this would be easy, but I don’t see any story in this photo.”
“Quit whining, Ethel. I see a prison in this photo. Do you think Peter Abbey was in prison?”
“Who?”
“Peter Abbey, the guy Rochelle got the picture from. I swear you don’t pay attention to anything, Ethel. Write a story about a prison. How long does it have to be?”
“100 words, no more no less. I hear she’s pretty strict!”
“How in hell you supposed to write a story in 100 words? Maybe we better read a couple stories.”
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“I have to admit, Ethel, some of those are pretty good. Just steal an idea from one of them.”
“I can’t do that if I’m going to be a real writer, Cheryl, they have to be my words. Besides, they might catch on and then I’d get in trouble.”
“Oooooh, what kick you out of being a Friday Writer?”
“It’s Friday Fictioneers because we write fiction!”
“And you write on Friday; I get it. Okay, let’s write a prison story. One for women and there’s lots of cat fights.”
“Good, and mean guards! Someone gets a shiv in this walkway and there’s blood all over.”
“I like that, better start writing this down. I’ll help you.”
“I’m excited, Cheryl, maybe I’ll be a famous author someday.”
“Don’t you mean, We, Ethel?”
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I have always written exactly 100-word stories… no more no less… and as Ethel says, ‘I hear she’s pretty strict!’ and I have never wanted to get on that little ball of fire’s bad side. But, since this is Rochelle’s fourth year heading up Friday Fictioneers, I thought I’d write 400 words… a Drabble a Year. I asked the girls to help; I wonder if they can figure out how to work the frog thing. Thanks to Peter Abbey for the photo prompt.
Here’re some stories from other people who write on Fridays…
SPRING PLANTING… Friday Fictioneers
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!!!”
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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.
Trifextra #64: THE TABLE
THE TABLE
RING ♪♪ RING ♪♪
“Hello?”
“Cheryl, my chance for the table will be lost, you need to bring me some cash right now!”
“For God’s sake, Ethel, join the 21st Century and get a charge card.”
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Here’s This Week’s Instructions… (to submit one your stories or read others, click the Trike)
- charge
- century
- lost
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Would love your thoughts…
