friday fictioneers

Apocalypse Now

caged-liz

Abner was gone for the day so, of course, Gladys was confronted with one of her visitors. 

 

 

Whenever she was alone, she was always subjected  to this unwelcome company.

 

 

“Is this a foretaste of Hell?!” she desperately wondered. “Am I being given a cryptic warning?!”

 

 

The visions never once spoke. They were such sad spectacles, in black and white. She knew something was awfully wrong because instead of recoiling in horror at these sights, neighbors always passed by as if nothing were happening.

 

 

“Now at least it’s only a matter of time, she stated.  “Tuesday’s the moment  of truth.”

 

 

Welcome back, yet again, to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.  Read the rules on her blog.  Liz Young has supplied this week’s photograph.

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Northeastern Pennsylvania In History

leg-up-jhc

It’s the Fourth of July in northeastern Pennsylvania.  Naturally I’m partying with kin in Hilldale.  A gang of cousins and I go to nearby Wilkes~Barre to see the historical exhibitions in the Square.

 

 

“Northeastern Pa.’s loaded with military history,”  Joe and Ron, our Viet Nam veteran cousins, remind us.  “Remember,” Ron said. “We have to leave soon to see Queen Esther’s Bloody Rock in Wyoming Borough.”

 

 

At the end of our day, we get to go to Jitty Joe’s, in Scranton, for ice cream.  That’s all so mundane, even with all the toppings, compared to what we see here. 

 

 

Yet again welcome back to Rochelle’s  Friday Fictioneers.  J. Hardy Carroll provides this week’s photograph.  For the information of those of you with an interest in northeastern PA/Wyoming Valley history, here’s a good link:    Queen Esther’s Bloody Rock

MUSIC IS EVERYWHERE

music-room

When there’s nothing important to do I always practice my guitar.  Last night was no different.  Having noticed my old Beatle song book I wondered if my cousins Gary and Lanfranco were available for accordion accompaniment.

 

 

Lately I always daydream about St. Gabriel’s Glee Club where we sang all of Rodgers and Hammerstein and other show tunes.  Brother Edmond’s “Edelweiss”, and Brother James’ guitar follow me everywhere.  “Lawrence, ENUNCIATE!!” Brother James always demanded.

 

“Oh well,” I pondered, “It’s too bad there’s no good new music but if it were still here there’d be no there to go to.

 

This week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt was supplied by our fearless leader, Rochelle .

It’s Deja Vu’ All Over Again

venice-fatima

Ralph and Gertrude were enjoying a leisurely stroll by their favorite spot. 

 

“It’s too bad we can never get your brother to join us,” she complained.

 

Yeah,” he admitted. “Sam’s plum terrified of water. Once when we were growing up, I asked him why. He explained that long ago he was on a large  unsinkable ship that hit an iceberg. Next thing he knew, he was stranded someplace and told to wait for another family to come and get him.”

 

“Sam was born on April 15, 1972. The Titanic sank on April 15, 1912.  Do you think there may be something to it?”

Welcome back yet again to ROCHELLE’S Friday Fictioneers.  Read all about it on her site. Fatima Fakier Deria graces us with the week’s photo.

A Visit to the Family

meep-by-the-window

“I’ve always enjoyed our annual trip to see your Aunt Harriet, Uncle Ike, and cousin Mamie”, Floyd told Mabel. “Only they could possibly know that G.K. Chesterton died on June 14, 1936. They’re all members of the Chester~Belloc Debate Society.”

“Yeah,” she chimed in. “There’s only one thing I don’t get though. Of all the pets they could have gotten, why a quail?”

“Hey, you have to remember,” he explained, “Chesterton and Belloc were both distinctive. Quails are distinctive. Seen from that point of view, it fits.”

“They’re most certainly distinctive, all righty,” she agreed, as they finished eating.

Welcome back yet again to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Each week, on Wednesday, we get to pretend it’s Friday.  This week’s photo prompt comes from Jean L. Hays

 

 

 

 

The Browning Version..A Poetry Recital

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It was April 6, 1889, in Victoria’s England. Robert Browning, aged 76, was attending a party hosted by artist Rudolf Lehmann.

 

Colonel Gouraud brought out an Edison Talking Machine. At the company’s behest, Browning began reciting his poem, “How They Brought the Good News From Ghent To Aix”, but his memory lapsed.

 

“I’m sorry,” he stated. “I can’t remember me own verses, but one thing that I shall remember all me life is the astonishing…by your wonderful invention.”

 

He died on December 12 that year at the home of his son . Browning was the first poet whose voice was recorded for posterity.

 

Robert Browning 

 

 

The photo prompt was provided by Roger Bultot.  As always, Rochelle guides us weekly through Friday Fictioneers.

 

 

The New Kid In Town

russell-workingCousins Sadie and Elmer were watching Old Man Smoot do his chores.

“Over yonder’s the Stranger,” Elmer explained.”

“How’d he git the name, ‘Stranger’, she wondered.  “Hasn’t he lived here for sixty four years?”

“Shonuf, Punkin’,” he reminded his cousin, “But he’s sixty eight. Here’bouts folks don’t rightly cotton to outsiders.”

” ‘Course,” he continued, “We humor him an’ all, but we have our traditions to uphold. Bent Fork’s an old established culture. Can’t just anybody fit in.”

They casually continued feeding the pigs and chickens.

“‘Sides that,” he claimed, “He’s a city feller.  His Ma and Pa come from Virginia.”

Rochelle  yet again leads us in Friday Fictioneers.  This week’s photo prompt has been provided by Connie Gayer.

Before the Parade Passes By

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Tom and Frank were getting ready to march, with their Knights of Columbus council, at the annual Memorial Day Parade.

 

“Remember,” Tom stated. “We have to be at the south side of  Illinois Avenue at 9:30 a.m. Monday.”

 

 

“We have the food ready,” Frank continued. “The Knights’ Pub is fully stocked. As always, the Historical and Preservation Society, and Hibernians, will be there.”

 

“We have our banners, fliers, and a trolley to take us home, “Tom explained. “Now all we need are healthy gams to get us through it all.”

 

 

They stared at each other sadly, tacitly conceding defeat.

 

 

Welcome back yet again to Friday Fictioneers.  This week Rochelle

supplies the photo prompt.

 

 

Goblin Market

dadsshoes

“Watch out for those boots,” Mitt warned Keef as they approached the Goblin Market. “Don’t you remember what happened to Lizzie’s sister Laura?”

 

“They’re a reminder of the goblins,” his friend conceded. “They’ll stop at nothing to sell us their poisonous fruits.”

 

It’s odd,” the former continued, “How such ugly little fellows can make such an enchanting pitch. It just goes to show how delightful a charm the fruits can have.

 

They went on along their way, strolling past the local graveyard and mental institution. The goblins, in the background, continued their irresistible, incessant chant, determined to entice the locals.

 

It’s time, yet again, for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers . Follow the link for an explanation.  Courtney Wright has supplied this week’s photo prompt.

 

 

The Nightly Hot Dog Debate

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Klindworth and Cimino were having their nightly Hot Dog Debate.

 

“Of the rivers in the Garden of Eden,” Klindworth explained, “The Tigris  and Euphrates still exist. The Tigris represents mankind’s poisonous secular culture, and Euphrates, his poisonous government.”

 

“Of course,” his friend continued. “The Pishon and Gihon represent what we have lost by Original Sin.”

 

Throughout their argument, Wass, the weinie salesman, was understandably frustrated.

 

“If you want that desperately to talk about things like that,” said he, “Go over to the  apple stand.”

 

Klindworth, ever the wise~ass, replied: “Are you sure they aren’t pomegranates, my friend?”

 

 

Rochelle takes us yet again upon our weekly Friday Fictioneers jaunt.  This week’s photo prompt was provided by Jill Wisoff