“I love Felix and Frances as much as you do honey, ” lamented Dave, “but their daughter Blanche is a self-absorbed creep.”
“I know,” fretted his wife Sylvia. “The entire Tri-State area was cordoned off to avoid inconvenience on her sixteenth birthday. The family shows weekly video updates, online, of her wedding for the past eighteen months.”
“Every move the girl makes is a multi-media spectacular and she’s not even the least bit pretty.”
“Besides that, we’re here, at their fancy country club, to celebrate her latest haircut!”
Rochelle Wisoff~Fields leads us weekly in Friday Fictioneers, an attempt to write a hundred~word story based upon a photo prompt. This week’s prompt was supplied by Roger Bultot.
A few years ago I joined the Monsignor Cass Council 2626 of the Knights of Columbus in Long Beach.
So far it’s a nice place but I have certain objections.
The parking stinks and the Knights’ Pub is too loud and crowded.
I’ve recently found a respite from the noise and crowds though.
Before each meeting I always hide out in the storage room in the back.
During the meetings we have our own brand of unavoidably necessary aggravation anyway.
Why add anything extra to it?
If only each of life’s problems could have that easy a solution, Oh how perfect!
Each week Rochelle Wisoff~Fields leads us in Friday Fictioneers, an attempt to write a hundred~word story based upon a photograph. This week’s photograph was supplied by Shaktiki Sharma.
“All was not perfect before World War I, you know,” Charles told Harold.
Professor Blanc, at Farmingdale, just started a chapter on The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire yesterday.”
“It was March 25, 1911. One hundred forty six people, mostly young Italian and Jewish immigrant women, were killed.”
“Yes, I get your point”, his friend sighed.
Everybody remembers Princip’s assassination of Franz Ferdinand and Sophia, that set off World War I. We all know about World War II, the Sixties’ sexual revolution, and all the other recent poison. Sometimes man needs a bit of a nudge nudge about the before picture though.
Friday Fictioneers is our weekly attempt to write a hundred word story based upon a photograph. Rochelle Wisoff~Fields is in charge. This week’s photograph has been supplied by Sandra Crook.
LifeNews.com Pro-Life News Report Wednesday, August 31, 2016 For pro-life news updated throughout the day, visit LifeNews.com. Top Stories • CONFIRMED: Planned Parenthood Killed Young, Black Woman in Botched Legal Abortion • Actor Don Cheadle Calls Donald Trump a “POS,” Says He Should “Die In A Grease Fire” • Catholic Archbishop: “Why are Only a […]
via LifeNews Report: CONFIRMED: Planned Parenthood Killed Woman in Botched Abortion — Deacon John's Space
It’s Independence Day in Hilldale.
As always the cousins gather on Danny’s front stoop to hear Lanfranco and Gary play the accordion.
“Is it just me” Mary Ellen complains, “Or do those songs get sadder each year lately?”
The Ronald points out something interesting.
“Our parents have all died,” he reminds her,”and we’ve reached the second plateau.”
He goes on to explain, “The children and teenagers are having the time of their lives with that music, as we once did. The torch has been passed and we’re stuck with it.”
“But we still have Jitty Joe’s Ice Cream,” she gushes.
Thank you to Vijaya Sundaram for this week’s photo prompt, and to Rochelle Wisoff~Fields who guiddes us weekly through Friday Fictioneers.
“Hey Melvin,” Stanley blurted out. Youse know anything about wasps or what?”
“You mean like our neighbors the Hollingsworths?” his friend answered. “Not much, why?”
Stanley gave Melvin his “Youse stupid or what?!” look and dragged him out of sight of the insects.
He asked him if he wanted to attend this year’s Pittston Tomato Festival.
“It’s from today to Sunday man! We just gotta go!!” was the only possible answer.
They then drove over the Fort Jenkins Bridge into the annual extravaganza.
“I know it’s Woodstock’s anniversary,” Stanley bragged. But man oh man nothing can possibly touch this!”
Rochelle Wisoff~Fields leads us weekly in Friday Fictioneers, a story based upon a picture. This week’s photograph was supplied by Janet Webb.
It’s been announced that schools in Charlotte will no longer be using the terms “boy” and “girl.” They’ve adopted a new gender fluid policy that allows students to be whatever gender they prefer. Boys will even be allowed to attend all-girl overnight trips, so long as they identify as girls for the duration. To alleviate…
via There’s No Way I’ll Send My Kids To Public School To Be Brainwashed By The LGBT Lobby — The Matt Walsh Blog
While visiting family in northeastern Pennsylvania, Reginald and Rachel took a walk on the local boardwalk.
“Isn’t this such a nice change from Long Beach’s boardwalk, honey?” Rachel pointed out.
“If we were there now,” her husband reminded her,”we’d be surrounded by teenagers with surfboards, Hasidic Jews in traditional black garb, and maniacs on bicycles.”
“It’s the perfect cure for our claustrophobia,”she couldn’t help noticing.
For countless hours they stayed there, enjoying the absolute silence and privacy, occasionally passing comments about the enigmatic triangle on the horizon.
“Too bad we don’t have one of those in New York”, she complained.
Adam Ickes provided our weekly photo prompt. Rochelle Wisoff~Fields is our Friday Fictioneers fearless leader.
Sylvia has had anxiety attacks for the past five years. She’s been seeing an individual therapist, Jeannine, once a week, and also sees Toby for group therapy.
She often visits her favorite neighborhood bar just to relax.
One night she was smitten by the reflection, in a window, of a sign advertising for fruit and vegetables.
Immediately she wrote a memo, on her phone, reminding her to tell Jeannine and Toby how moments like that help her to relax.
Her alarm went off. She got up to leave so she could catch her train.
“Duty calls,” she told the bartender.
Thanks to Ted Strutz for this week’s photo prompt and to Rochelle Wisoff~Fields, our leader in Friday Fictioneers
It’s late July,1966, in Chicago.
Muriel and Gloria spot a terrifying sight.
“I know they’ve got Richard Speck already,” cried Gloria, “but I still can’t help losing control!”
“He’s that moron who tortured eight young nursing students to death,” replied Muriel. “He was high as a kite.”
“You have to admit that is one odd sight!” stammered the former. “Do you think it’s some copycat bastard?”
“Do you have to bring that up?” Muriel went on. “That always happens.”
Trembling uncontrollably they go home and try not to dwell on their fear.
“Let’s stick together all day,” Gloria suggests.
Thanks to Janet M Webb for the photo prompt and to Rochelle Wisoff~Fields for her help each week in Friday Fictioneers.