Friday Fictioneers — The Music Room

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Helen managed to hold herself together well during the funeral and the gathering at her home afterwards. But that was yesterday. Now it was time to head to her father’s apartment to begin the task of taking inventory of his possessions and to start throwing out those things that were of no value.

It wasn’t until she walked into the small room where he had kept all of his instruments and music that the full weight of her loss hit her.

“Dammit, Daddy,” she said aloud even though she was alone. “Why didn’t I inherit any of your musical talents?”

(100 words)


Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. (Yes, I know it’s Saturday and I’m a day late. So what?) Photo credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

If You Got It…

flaunt it2.“You couldn’t be more ostentation,” she said to me. “Look at you with your expensive sports car, your huge house with a swimming pool, and your thousand dollar suits. Who are you trying to impress?”

“Hey, baby,” I responded. “What can I say? When you got it, flaunt it. Am I right?”

“Are you right?” she responded. “Well, yes, if you’re trying to make up for some shortcomings elsewhere.”

“I’m good in that department, too, baby. I wear a size 11 shoe and I’ve got the hands of a basketball player,” I said, holding up my two enormous hands.

“Oh, you thought that was what I was talking about? Think again, honey,” she said.

“If not that, what are you talking about?” I asked.

“I’m talking about your pea-sized brain,” she said.

“Are you kidding?” I responded. “Look at all I’ve got, lady. You think I would have a 25-room mansion, a gold Lamborghini, and expensive suits if I wasn’t smart. I’m really smart. I’m, like, the smartest person around.”

“Come on,,” she said. “You inherited it all from your daddy.”

“Not true,” I said. “He just gave me a small loan to get me started.”

“A small loan? How small of a loan was it?”

“Just a million dollars,” I said. “Chump change.”

“As I said, you’re obnoxious, showy, and ostentation. You need to be taught a lesson.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “What kind of lesson?”

“Hand me that Forbes magazine over there, Donald,” she said. “Yes, the one with you on the cover. Now drop your pants. Stormy’s gonna teach you a thing or two.”


Written for today’s one-word prompt, “flaunt.” And yes, this is supposed to be fiction.