Bobby and Little Sally are playing in the backyard, it’s been raining something terrible for a week now and this was the first sunny day.
“🎶Ring around the rosy,
A pocket full of posies,
We all fall down! 🎶”
“Sally!!! You didn’t fall down!.”
“I don’t wanna get my dress dirty, Bobby. No one says you have to fall down.”
Enter Mother, who puts something in the birdbath as Bobby and Little Sally start going in a circle agin.
🎶Ring around the… Mother! What’s that water doing there?”
“The sun is finally out, my new Solar Garden Fountain™!”
🌼 🌹 💐 🌸 🌻 🥀 🌷
Little Sally thought you might like to see Mother’s new birdbath fountain, so she took a photo for you with her new camera.
When I saw this photo of the fountain, by C. E. Ayr , I immediately thought of a photo I have of my father and his siblings gathered around a pond in their backyard in the 30’s. Like everyone else at that time they did not have a ‘pot to piss in’, but they did have a large garden where they grew food and shared with the neighbors. My father is the big one, Emily to his right and Bill, Laura and Gary to the left. There were goldfish in the pond and they are posing for Pops, I imagine.
I have one other photo, I would like to think it was a fountain, with my Uncle Gary, the youngest, maybe he played Ring Around the Rosy with Emily.
Friday Fictioneers’ Stories Here:
“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?”
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“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.
Mother’s holding Bobby’s hand as they ride up to the second floor. Mother is not happy, her daughter has disappeared. Again. She’d call once more, except she does not want to cause a scene in Nordstroms. This is their third trip from first floor to the fourth and then down again, waiting for Grandmother to finish her shopping in foundations. Grandmother is very picky when it comes to her drawers, and likes to take her time. As if anyone would ever see them, thinks Mother.
Mother hears snickering behind her and turns to see Little Sally, smirking.
👙 👙 👙 👙 👙 👙 👙 👙 👙 👙 👙 👙
Here is where to find Friday Fictioneers and read leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog. I sent Rochelle this photo taken by Swedish photographer, Ulrika Undén who exhibits her works at INSTAOLOGY, because I knew it would make a perfect prompt for flash fiction.
Click this frog to read all the Fictioneers’ stories…
I remember riding the elevator with my grandmother in Hale’s Department Store in Sacramento in the ’50s, and I think it was the second floor, the operator would call out “Lady’s Wear and Foundations.” I alway’s though it was such a funny word. I wrote another story about ‘foundations’ you can find it here… Foundations Please!
“Hi, Cheryl, it’s me Ethel.”
“Okay, what do you want?”
“Cheryl, why do you always think I want something?”
“Because you always do, Ethel. I can tell by the perky way you say ‘Hi, Cheryl’. So, cut to the chase, what is it?”
“Well be that way, but since you ask, you have a snow shovel don’t you?”
“I do, and so do you. You got one when you worked at Wal-Mart, remember?”
“I can’t find it, I think I let someone borrow it.”
“That’s why I have mine, I don’t lend. Why?”
“My walk, could you shovel it.”
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Some 100 Word Flash Fiction based on the photo of Dale Rogerson’s front yard she sent Rochelle for this week’s story prompt. Do drop by Friday Fictioneers if you want to write a story, and click on the frog to read all the stories, some may feature snow:
“I don’t wanna do the dishes, I’m too little!”, huffed Little Sally.
” You are not too little to eat the food I cook, are you?”
“Then you are not too little to do the dishes. Time you did some chores, young lady. Besides you can stand on a chair.”
Little Sally drags a kitchen chair across the linoleum to the sink.
“I’ll get all wet. Probably get water all over the floor. Maybe break some dishes.”
“No you won’t if you know what’s good for you, Sally.”
Water runs, soap bubbles, Mother watches.
“Hey, this is kind of fun.”
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Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields … go see this week’s FF Challenge. This is the 100 words I got from Ronda Del Boccio’s photo prompt, it looks like my sink, except mine is full of dishes. I wonder how Little Sally did?
More Friday Fictioneers stories here…
Little Sally was standing on a high stool with a pair of long kitchen tongs trying to get down one of the frying pans that Father had suspended from the ceiling on a hook over a fishing line.
Crash bang boing… skillet bouncing across the tile floor Little Sally quickly jumping down and scurrying after it hoping no one had heard the calamitous noise Grandmother said something like ‘waking the dead’ once and it had stuck in Little Sally’s mind and that’s all she could think of as Mother was napping in the adjoining room.
“Sally! What are you doing?!?!”
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Little Sally said to Mother the other day, “Mother, I want to make a birthday cake.”
Mother said, “Sally, you don’t know how to bake yet.”
“I know,” Little Sally said, “I meant I want you to bake a cake, because I want to put the frosting on it, and I know how to do that.”
“Are you sure, Sally, I don’t think you’ve ever iced a cake before.”
“Well how hard can that be? I watched that nice lady at the bakery do it, I want to make one for her.”
“Do you know how to spell her name?”
🎂 🎂 🎂 🎂 🎂 🎂 🎂 🎂 🎂 🎂
Today I am a Wednesday Fictioneer and will deviate from the posted prompt, because today is a special day. I want everyone to look at the photo above, because that is exactly how Rochelle would eat her birthday cake, I’m sure of it. (I don’t have a photo of Rochelle, so I borrowed Paulette Goddard eating cake in the Charlie Chaplin movie Modern Times, 1936)
Click that Frog to see this week’s Friday Fictioneers stories!
She graduated from The Theater School in Chicago, winning Best Actress in her Junior and Senior years. She would go on to act professionally in Chicago and San Francisco. Today she is the drama instructor at a high school, taking a role in a play on occasion. I’ve seen a lot of her performances over the years, but one will always stand out in my memory:
She was eighteen years old and had the lead in a play. You could hear the purses click open and tissues being retrieved. I was not watching my daughter, I was watching Anne Frank.
🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭 🎭
I’m always honored when Rochelle Wisoff-Fields uses one of my photos as a prompt for the Friday Fictioneers writing group. I was attending a play at the Paramount Theater in Seattle when I took this photo. I didn’t have a chance to write my story then, but here it is now. Here is another story I wrote about the same actress… THE CRUSADER … and the Acting Student
Note to my fellow Friday Fictioneers: I missed writing a story for this prompt from a few weeks ago. Here is my story. Hopefully Rochelle will not notice that I have posted it on a different week, but I wanted my FFFriends to read it.
Little Sally left her pail in the grass.
Mr. Robert didn’t want to hit it with his mower so he hung it on a nearby shed.
Coming back with her shovel, Little Sally couldn’t reach it.
She went and found Bobby.
Bobby got down on all fours and Little Sally stood on his back.
She still couldn’t reach the pail.
So she jumped up… still not high enough.
When she came down Bobby collapsed.
Undeterred, Little Sally got the milking stool and made Bobby get back down on all fours.
Noontime, Mother clangs the dinner gong.
Little Sally sprints for the house leaving her pail in the grass.
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It’s always fun to find a new writing group. My pal Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is good at finding them. Rochelle, who you may know from reading my stories, is in charge of Friday Fictioneers and herds over 100 writers each week.
Please check out Writers Unite. I enjoyed seeing their prompt photo and a story immediately popped into my head, so this is definitely a flash fiction.
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!