“Sally! Come here this instant!!!”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little overly dramatic, Dear? What’s she done now?”
“You know what she’s done, Mother. Look at this mess, she let Bobby get into the finger paints. I told her to keep them away from him, and she left them laying out. Where is that girl?”
“Maybe you should talk to Bobby?”
“You know Bobby doesn’t understand things.”
“Maybe if you spent more time with him, showed him how to finger paint, he wouldn’t make a mess.”
“Easier to yell at Sally.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I truly am.”
🎨 🎨 🎨 🎨 🎨 🎨 🎨 🎨 🎨
Trip to Dick Blick’s
“Exciting news, Cheryl!”
“Well, hi to you too, Ethel.”
“Sorry, I know you like me to say hello first, but I’ve got big news.”
“You always seem to have big news. Spill it.”
“Kristi has accepted me into her class.”
“Okay. Who’s Kristi?”
“The painter you liked. You know I love her paintings and how I’ve always wanted to do watercoloring.”
“Is this that crazy one at the Bucktown crafts fair?”
“Yes, and she teaches classes. I’m accepted!”
“How much to get accepted?”
“Only $45 a class. I’ve a list, come to Dick Blicks with me
“Okay, Blicks is always fun.”
👩🎨 👩🎨 👩🎨 👩🎨 👩🎨 👩🎨 👩🎨 👩🎨 👩🎨
I don’t think I need to give credit to the photo prompt this week, anyone knowing Rochelle Wisoff-Fields will know why. Be sure to read her story and the accompanying link for a fascinating look at a painter’s too short life.
To read more stories by Friday Fictioneers writers click the frog above. This week I stole him from my neighbor to the north Delectable Dale (I’ve never figured out how to add a link to an image so I have to ‘borrow’) She has a good story too.
“Hi Cheryl. I’m going to make meatballs, do you have a good recipe.”
“Are you kidding me, I’ve never made meatballs. Ask Mama Margie, she’s a real Italian, from Staten Island.”
“I thought Italians came from Italy.”
“Oh for God’s sake Ethel, they can come from anywhere as long as their relatives started in Italy.”
“Well Betty said she was a good cook, do you have her number?”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hello, is this Margie? This is Ethel, a friend of Betty’s. I want to make meatballs and she said you were a real Italian cook.”
“I think I can help you, Ethel.”
Can you imagine Ethel cooking? I’m not sure I can, but that’s my 100 word story and I’m sticking to it. Friday Fictioneers is all about 100 Word Flash Fiction…
Here is where to find Friday Fictioneers and read leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.
The photo prompt today is by Roger Bultot… It will be interesting to see the stories, I’ve already read a few good ones, click that frog to read them…
Here is my story, I was making meatballs last night to go with some spaghetti. There really is a Mama Margie, she gave me a baked ziti recipe once. She is a real Italian from Staten Island, but now cooks in the Show Me State.
I forgot to take a photo of the meat balls right out of the oven, but here they are on a plate with Arrabbiata sauced spaghetti, my favorite sauce. I will have to ask Margie if she has a recipe for Arrabbiata, but she would call it gravy, she is a real Italian after all. My sister Mariya, not an Italian but an Organic-an, steamed radishes, burdock root and broccoli to go with.
“Cheryl, to what do I owe the honor?”
“Don’t be a smart ass, there’s a dog in my daisies, I’m not happy!”
“Sounds like it. What happened, why tell me?”
“It’s the dog you and Betty rescued from that shelter in Cicero. I still don’t know what the hell you two were doing in Cicero.”
“That was last summer. Betty heard there was a boxer, and we saw this little terrier that would be perfect to replace Marty’s Sweetie.”
“Well, I loved Sweetie, but this one’s in my garden and Marty’s not home. Get over here, Ethel!”
🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼
Charlie Mills prompt caught my eye today!
February 6, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story to the theme “a dog in the daisies.” It can be any dog, real or imagined. Push into the setting and as always, go where the prompt leads!
Author’s note: The dog in the prompt photo looks like Betty’s dog Luna.
Ethel slips past the barricade, with Cheryl hot on her heels.
“Ethel! What the hell are you doing? We aren’t supposed to go in there.”
“Oh silly, you know I like to live dangerously.”
“I think I would say foolishly. And you don’t follow rules!”
Ethel, tired of discussing the matter takes off down the dark hall. “I want to see what they are doing.”
Cheryl catches up as Ethel is peeking around a corner into the lit exhibition hall. She peeks around too. People wearing white gloves are positioning artworks on the wall.
“That’s Andy Warhol. I didn’t know you were a big Warhol fan.”
“I’m not, Cheryl, but I’m a big Marilyn fan. You know that.”
“Oh yes, I remember your blonde phase.”
They didn’t hear the guard behind them.
“Look, there she is!”
If you like Marilyn as much as Ethel and I and happen to be in Chicago, you can see ANDY WARHOL – FROM A TO B AND BACK AGAIN at The Art Institute right now. I wrote this with my friend Aggie Reilly in mind, who lives in Chicago and loves Marilyn too.
Want to take part in the WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT? Write a story or poem with just 136 words, no more no less, and send it to Sammi Cox.
‘Hi Cheryl. I’ve got great news, but I know you’re going to say no.”
“What do you mean ‘say no’, I don’t say no to everything.”
“Well, it seems like you do. Sometimes, before I even say what it is.”
“For starters, Ethel, sometimes you beat around the bush so much getting to the point, it’s easier to say no right off the bat and save all that time.”
“I don’t always beat around the bush.”
“Bullet points, Ethel, bullet points.”
“Okay, you know how much we liked watching Downton Abbey? Highclere Castle is now a bed and breakfast.”
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Every Wednesday Christina Kemp posts a photo prompt. Write a story or whatever you want to do based on the photo. Word limit 150. Ethel & Cheryl usually only take 100.
HIGHCLERE CASTLE AND AIRBNB (Highclere Castle has been fully booked, so you and Ethel are out of luck)
“For one day, Ethel! Is it too much to ask to have just one day when you don’t call me with some crazy request? A damn waterpark, really?”
“Oh. I’m sorry to have made you feel this way. I’m going to cry. I’m going to hang up now, Cheryl, you have hurt my feelings.”
Their phones do not ring each other for two days.
“Hi Ethel, it’s me, Cheryl.”
“I know who it is.”
“I’m sorry, can you ever forgive me? I treated you terribly, I’m an awful friend.”
“You forgive me? Or I’m awful?”
~ ~ ~ to be continued ~ ~ ~
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July 25: Flash Fiction Challenge… I realize this is a departure from a true flash fiction story, as there is no end… yet.
This was the prompt… In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes the phrase “for one day.”
“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.”
♂︎ ♀︎ ♂︎ ♀︎ ♂︎ ♀︎ ♂︎ ♀︎ ♂︎ ♀︎ ♂︎ ♀︎ ♂︎ ♀︎
Ainsworth’s is the last of the old line department stores in Chicago.
One cannot blame the young man in the green blazer for looking perplexed when Ethel, upon stepping into the elevator, asks for ‘foundations’.
“Oh for God’s sake, Ethel, just say girdles! Foundations is what our grandmothers called them.”
In a whisper, “I didn’t want to say it out loud, Cheryl.”
“He’s going to think you want to go down. I’m pretty sure we need to go up.”
“Okay! Girdles please young man.”
“Ladies Undergarments, Fourth Floor, right away Madam.”
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Want to take part in the WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT? Write a story or poem with just 91 words and send it to Sammi Cox.
CHEF BO…a drabble for FriFic
On the Northside of Chicago, a telephone rings…
“Hi Cheryl, it’s me, Ethel.”
“One word, Cheryl, Chef Bo.”
“That’s two words. What’s Chef Bo?”
“A new Chinese restaurant on Irving! We have to go.”
“You know I don’t like Chinese, Ethel.”
“Well, you like Birds Nest Soup, Cheryl. And I’ll bet they have barbecued pork.”
“Liked, I found out how they make it, disgusting. I like the pork and I guess fried rice is okay. What’s with the Chef Bo obsession?”
“I have a coupon.”
“Of course you do, Ethel! If you had one to Hell we’d be crossing the river Styx. Okay, but you’re buying.”
🀀 🀤 🀃 🀢 🀊 🀥 🀏 🀦 🀐 🀣 🀪
GAME TIME… a Drabble for FriFic
“Okay, I’ll take the iron.”
“Wait a minute, Ethel! I’m the iron. You know I’m always the iron!”
“That’s why I’m going to be the iron, Cheryl. I’m sick and tired of you being so bossy, I’m going to be the iron today.”
“Oh please. My game, I get to choose, and I choose the iron. You can be the car. The iron is my good luck charm, that’s why I always win.”
“Oh for God’s sake, you don’t always win! You know what? I’m going to go get the candlestick or maybe the rope, we’ll see how you do then.”
My triumphant return to Friday Fictioneers features my favorite game piece… .
Great photo choice, Rochelle (her own this time). I love looking at shadow boxes and the memories they contain. To see more stories based on this week’s photo prompt… Click on FriFic.