Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers — Take a Seat

Fandango2 Comments

“Hi, Mr. Bill. I’m so glad you could make it,” Leena, the hostess said. “Please, take a seat in the living room. There is a chair right over there,” she said, pointing.

“Okay, thanks,” Mr. Bill said as he climbed up into the chair and made himself comfortable.

When the doorbell rang, Leena answered it. “Hello, Mr. Butt,” she said. “Please, take a seat in the living room. I’ll get you something to drink, okay?”

Mr. Butt went to the chair Mr. Bill was in, and sat down. Mr. Bill cried “Ohh Noooo!” But it was too late. SPLATTT!

(99 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Ted Strutz.

Friday Fictioneers — Anniversary

Fandango3 Comments

The crowd of about a thousand people gathered on the street outside of the now-shuttered Palm Dance Club. It was the fifth anniversary of the mass shooting that killed and injured almost 100 at the predominantly gay dance club.

People were carrying signs and banners in support of the LBGTQ+ community. Some were crying as a handful of speakers gave emotional and inspiring talks. Some questioned whether the dance club might reopen, but the owner of the property, which has been closed since the night of the event said no. “Not until it’s safe again for members of our community.”

(100 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Dale Rogerson.

Fandango’s Flashback Friday — March 8th

Fandango9 Comments

Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year.

How about it? Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year? You can repost your Flashback Friday post on your blog and pingback to this post. Or you can just write a comment below with a link to the post you selected.

If you’ve been blogging for less than a year, go ahead and choose a post that you previously published on any day this past year and link to that post in a comment.

This was originally posted on March 8, 2019 on this blog.

Friday Fictioneers — The Scooter and the Cat

C452FDC0-9E51-4661-8F75-1268CC6F9231

“Here’s a picture of the scooter that was stolen from right in front of my flat, Officer,” Dwayne said.

“Is the black cat also missing?” Officer Bremen asked.

“No,” Dwayne said. “The cat is fine. He’s inside.”

“He’s a cutie,” the officer said. “My wife and I had a black cat, too. She looked just like yours. She was almost twenty when she died last year. We miss her. What’s his name?”

“It’s Rudy,” Dwayne said. “But I called….”

“Rudy?” The officer said, laughing. “Like In Rudy Giuliani?”

“Excuse me, Officer, but can we talk about my stolen motor scooter?”

(100 words)

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: C.E. Ayr.

Friday Fictioneers — I Knew It

Fandango7 Comments

“See, I told you,” Cindy said to her husband sitting next to her on the sofa, when, on the British crime series they were binge-watching, the scene showed a rusty car being pulled up out of the water. “I knew they’d find the car, open up its trunk when they got it on dry land, and the body would be in there.”

“But this doesn’t solve the crime,” Andrew said. “It just means that they found the victim’s body.”

“Don’t worry. The killer’s DNA will be under the vic’s fingernails. There always is in these shows,” Cindy said.

(98 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Fleur Lind.

Friday Fictioneers — Take a Nap

Fandango4 Comments

Rose looked out of the window of her nursing home. “This is why Gabe and I moved to Miami after he retired,” she said to the nurses’ aid who was putting fresh sheets on her bed. “So we wouldn’t have to deal with the ice, snow, and cold here. But then the bastard up and dies and my son made me move back up here and stuck me in this shithole place, no offense, Miss.”

“None taken, Rose,” the aid said. “Your bed is ready.”

“Great,” Rose said. “I can’t go outside, so I might as well take a nap.”

(100 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Dale Rogerson.