Mese: gennaio 2018

Well it’s one, two, three what are we fightin’ for?

“Have you read the Washington Post’s article on the fiftieth anniversary of the Tet Offensive?” Stanley asked Yolanda.

His friend asked for a head start, not having read it yet.

“On this day in 1968,” he explained, “The Viet Cong launched a series of  attacks on South Vietnam, that lasted until September 23rd.”

“It was one of the war’s largest military campaigns.”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “William Calley’s My Lai Massacre was on March 16th that year too.”

“That’s why I always  give to organizations like the American Legion,” he reminded her. “Hey, you never know where these guys have been.”

stumpsWelcome to Friday Fictioneers, where Rochelle Wisoff~Fields leads us in our weekly attempt to write a story based upon a photo prompt. Rochelle supplied this week’s photo prompt.

Annunci

Calling all Dingbats, Meatheads, and Little Girls

Noise has always been the veritable bane of my existence. Ever since my very early childhood I’ve always had quite a love/hate relationship with sound in general. Everyone most certainly knows about my intense interest in music, especially the Beatles, as well as 1960’s music of all kinds.                                                                                                                                There’s also quite a dark side to sound, however.  Noise, and excessive volume, get me plum crazy. It’s an especially nasty problem when I’m subjected to  high~pitched, shrill sounds.                                                                                                              Libraries and churches, in my younger days, were havens of peace and quiet. Back then most people were significantly concerned about being ladies and gentlemen, and, as a general rule, could be counted on to respect the obligation to remain as silent as possible in these environments.                                                 

That era, however, is long gone. Now, since the advent of cell phones (I’ve always quite bitterly resented the telephone but that can be fodder for another day) there are all sorts of  creeps who feel free to talk on their phones even in these once forbidden places. A couple of times, a few years ago, I went to Lincoln Center in Manhattan. There was a rule against telephones on the premises and people seemed quite willing to honor it. Do people have to be charged practically forty dollars for admission to someplace before accepting the obligation to respect others?                                                                                                            To my chagrin, I shall always have to deal with my aversion to noise. It would most certainly be quite nice, however, if at least I could count on the assumption that all the defiantly narcissistic cacophony may someday dwindle down a little bit.                                                                                         I hereby request that we all stifle it as much as possible.

 

 

St. Edith, Rosa, and Blessed Titus

“This time of year is heavy for a history major, you know,” Stanley told Yolanda.

“Why?” she wanted to know.

“January 27 is the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz,” he explained. “St. Edith Stein and her sister, Rosa, both Carmelites, died there. Blessed Titus Brandsma, another Carmelite, died at Dachau.”

“They’re my favorite Carmelites,” Yolanda reminded him. “The Steins died because they were Jews and Titus died because of his outspoken defiance of the Nazis.”

They both stood motionless for a seemingly endless few moments in the bitter cold. Then the couple walked away quietly, clutching textbooks.

Please join us as Rochelle Wisoff~Fields, each week, guides us through Friday Fictioneers, a collection of hundred~word stories. This week’s photograph was supplied by Sandra Crook.