(Copyright - Lora Mitchell)
TO ALL MY DEAR FRIENDS, FELLOW BLOGGERS AND FRIDAY FICTIONEERS...
AFTER 40 FF SHORT STORIES, I AM TAKING A WELL-DESERVED REST AND HIATUS FOR A FEW WEEKS. HAPPY, BLESSED NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL. WE SHALL MEET AGAIN IN 2013.
Love,
Lora
This week's Friday Fictioneer's photo prompt comes courtesy of Scott L. Vannatter. Below is my 100-word story inspired by Scott's adorable photo. (12/21/12).
**** WAITING FOR SANTA ****
I watched them circle pictures in the Toys-R-Us catalog. A Yankee jacket and a Giants Helmet for Buddy. A pink tutu and Ballerina Barbi for Sally. A catnip mouse for me. Excited, they collected pictures for their wish list and hung red stockings. Homemade cookies and milk sat on the table. But Santa never came. Sally thought he got stuck in the chimney. Buddy said Santa probably emptied his toy sack for the kids in the fancy houses where he got his belly full of rich cocoa and honey-glazed tarts. Since Santa never came, Buddy and Sally ate the cookies, I drank the milk.
This week, MadisonWood's Friday Fictioneer banner has been passed to our dedicated FF writer and friend, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Above is Rochelle's first photo prompt. Below is my 100-word short story inspired by Rochelle's charming photo. (10/26/12)
**** RAIN BUCKET ****
"Gino. We're busy. How much longer are we holding that corner table?"
"Don't worry, Flossie. She'll be here."
"But it's six months since he stopped coming."
"She will come. She will wait."
"How long did you say they met at this table."
"Two years straight. Every Friday. 8pm - sharp. They filled that rain bucket with sweet talk, laughter and stolen kisses."
"Maybe he died or something."
"Naw. Last time they met, I saw their heads huddled in serious talk. She cried as he tried to console her. I seen it all before.
"Looks like he filled that rain bucket with broken promises and heartbreak. Damn cheating men."
Once again, writers from all over the world join MadisonWoods #Friday Fictioneeers to create short stories based on a photo prompt. This week, the photo is provided by Jan Morrill. Below is my 100-word story inspired by Jan's interesting photo. (10/12/12).
**** AISHA ****
Behind these thick walls, Aisha was doing something dangerous and forbidden. She was secretly attending school. A bright teenager, she was learning and thriving. Aisha craved to be educated, with a strong desire to be a doctor.
Most unusual, in this country, her loving father encouraged her; an effort to lift her from the Dark Ages.
But there was a Judas in her midst. The school bus was intercepted. The traitor pointed her out. Through the window, the bullet found its target.
To this day, this brave girl lies in a coma. Her only crime? She wanted to learn.
ps: Pray for Malala.
Writers from all over the world join MadisonWoods #FridayFictioneers to submit short stories based on a photo prompt. This week's photo is provided by Raina Ng. Below is my 100-word story inspired by Raina's lovely photo. (10/05/12).
~~~~ PRETTY BALLOONS ~~~~
"Mam. The storm has blown over. I'll return the flashlight to the basement and get the ladder to remove those balloons."
"Jake. Return the flashlight. Leave the pretty balloons there."
"That was some sweet sixteen party you gave your grand daughter. A nice celebration. The fuses blowing didn't seem to dampen their spirits one bit."
"No. In fact, it added to the excitement."
"Quite an excitable day. You must be exhausted."
"Yes. Happy to entertain. Happy they're gone."
"Remind you of your own sweet sixteen, mam?
"Never had one. Parties were luxuries. We could not afford luxuries. Not even pretty balloons."
Once again, writers join MadisonWoods #FridayFictioneers to submit short stories based on a photo prompt. This week, the photo is provided by Sandra Crook. Below is my 100-word short story inspired by Sandra's photo. (9/28/12).
**** WALKING TOUR ****
"This walking tour is exhausting. Tell the guide we wish to rest under this shrine. We've seen many beautiful shrines during this trip. Wonder what makes them so calm and peaceful?"
"I don't know, but this one is different. I'm feeling uneasy."
"You're just tired."
"Wonder what these markings mean? Meg, ask the guide if he knows and can translate."
"Sir. Guide. What do these marking mean?"
"In 1940, I was playing in front of my house, when I was forced from my village and taken to a foreign land..." Ms. Kim Song, a former "comfort woman" about her abduction at the age of eleven."
Thanks to Madison Woods for posting my Friday Fictioneers photo prompt this week (9/21/12). Below is my story.
**** ANGEL OF THE HARBOR ****
"Teacher, are you sure this Hudson Riverboat is safe? I can't swim."
"Don't worry, Johnny. Class, look to your left. On the Manhattan shoreline. Do you see the white, marble statue on that barge?"
"Yes, Mrs. Ryan." Class answers in unison.
"I see three wings." Billy says.
"She's called 'Angel of the Harbor.' Billy, those are not wings. They're three oars. Two and a spare. Long ago, Native Indians crossed the river in canoes. As the story goes, when one lost an oar, she offered a spare so he could reach the shoreline without drowning.
"She praying?"
"No, Lucy. She's resting until she's needed."
****
Note:
One can find this stunning sculpture on a retired barge at 26th Street, Manhattan Hudson River shoreline. Enlarge the photo and you will see in the background the Jersey side of the shoreline, laced in colored lights. She is named "Angel of the Harbor" or "Lady of the Harbor." At first sight, she is large, beautiful and breathtaking; a smooth, solid piece of white, Italian marble. She sits on a retired 3-level barge facing the river. It has an outdoor restaurant and dance floor. A festive party is held every year as the barge sits at the site of Macy's July 4th fireworks. The artist offered no interpretation, so I wrote my own.
Madison Woods FridayFictioneers photo prompt courtesy of Stacy Plowright's photo (copyright) titled: Clouds in Toronto. Below is my 100-word story inspired by Stacy's lovely photo. 8/31/12.
*** AS SHE PICTURED IT ***
"Beautiful." She whispers with labored breath.
"What's beautiful?"
"Exactly as I pictured it."
"Pictured what, mother?"
"Look up." She points a bony, arthritic finger toward the window. "Layers of clouds swirling around a golden chariot with majestic white horses. Playful, pixie cherubs in wispy pink. Feathery wings, fluttering, shielding His face. Glorious, divine harp music.. Can you hear, son?"
"Yes, mother."
She rests her head back and smiles. "It means Israel rebuilt the third temple in Jerusalem in time for His return."
"Shall I close the blinds, sir?
"Not necessary, nurse. She's been blind since the stroke five years ago."
FridayFictioneers unusual photo prompt this week is courtesy of Lura Helms. Titled: Tree Crook. Below is my 100-word story inspired by Lura's photo. (8/17/12)
*** CHILDHOOD TREE ***
"Race you to our old tree. One, two, three...go!"
"Zach. We're not kids any longer."
"Come on, Piper."
"It's not fair."
"What's not fair?"
"You're in better shape from all that Army training."
"Forget about that. I've served my time. I'm back for good and in one piece. I'll give you a head start."
"Can't we sit on the porch swing instead and talk?"
"Fighting in that hellhole, I dreamed of nothing but this old tree and you. I see those goat horns are still stuck up there. Our initials should be about...Piper loves...Rick?"
"Zach, please..."
"...Guess I was away too long."
FIVE SENTENCE FICTION
www.lilliemcferrin.blogspot.com 6/30/12
Lillie's Word Prompt: HARVEST
She sways back and forth on the porch swing and keenly watches as the rusty, yellow school bus unloads forty-five handsome, bronzed, husky teenage boys and men. Recruited every year from the LeHigh Valley, Pennsylvania coal mines, these young hunks are driven upstate New York to harvest her father's vast soy fields and apple orchard. Her heart pounds hard and skips beats until the last one steps down. Once again, he does not appear. It's now three years since he's seen his son.
FIVE SENTENCE FICTION 6/22/12
www.lilliemcferrin.blogspot.com
WORD PROMPT
FAERIES
"Ariel, how many times do I have to tell you to stay out of trouble. You got tangled in the spokes of the ferris wheel and fell off the carousel horse's tail. You got a huge glob of sticky cotton candy in your wings and now you're all wet from that bubble-making machine. One disaster after another. I'm tellin' mom I don't want you hanging out with me any more."
Above is Madison Wood's Friday Fictioneers photo prompt titled: PATH (6/15/12)
Below is my 100-word story inspired by Madison's beautiful photo.
**** WOODED PATH ****
We hadn't seen each other since childhood and chatted lightly; reminiscing; while strolling along a wooded path. Now, in his mid-twenties, he was tall with movie star looks, a solid athletic physique, thick, tousled, sun-kissed hair, a Cary Grant dimple in his square chin, sensitive eyes and a killer smile. His jughead ears were no more.
He stopped abruptly, placed his hands on my face, opened his heart and all in one breath, said he loved me, proposed marriage and if I refused, he would become a priest. Secretly engaged to his cousin, I was rendered speechless.
FIVE SENTENCE FICTION: LOST (6/11//12)
ONE-WORD PROMPT
Each week, Lillie McFerrin of #Five Sentence Fiction, posts a one-word prompt. This week's one-word is: LOST
Below is my Five Sentence Fiction - story inspired by Lillie McFerrin's prompt.
**** LOST ****
On the rainy ride home, reclining in the back seat, her head swims with the successful events of the cheerleading contest. Wrapped in the glow of happiness, her first prize gold medal, secure in its black, velvet-cushioned box, rests softly against her chest.
Swooned by the hum of the car engine, the last thing she remembers is drifting off to sleep, anticipating tomorrow's shopping trip with mom, for her first prom dress.
At her bed, she sees an elderly nurse, in starched white, holding a syringe and mom's anxious, colorless face, pressing her hand. She soon learns that, during the five-car collision, not only was her gold medal lost, but most of her top teeth.
Once again, here is MadisonWoods FridayFictioneers clever photo prompt titled: BLIMP (6/08/12).
Below is my 100-word story inspired by the above photo.
*** BLIMP ***
She was lost. Mentally and emotionally, with a closed, muddled, solitary mind. Modern drugs added to her isolation. For relief from her self-imposed prison, she sought professional help.
He was a tall, unattractive, pipe-holder. Since her instincts never failed, her inner voice whispered not to flee. On the third visit, moving from chair to couch, she felt uneasy with him sitting behind her.
"Give me your hand," he said, softly. "Trust me."
Placing her hesitant, trembling palm into his gentle hand, with tears welling, she saw the blimp sailing peacefully in the serene, iris-blue sky. As it floated by his hi-rise office window, she relaxed and felt safe.
"THERE IS NO GREATER AGONY THAN BEARING AN UNTOLD STORY INSIDE YOU..."
Maya Angelou
FIVE SENTENCE FICTION - ORANGE (5/30/12)
What it's all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week, Lillie McFerrin will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction. The word chosen this week is:
ORANGE
Sharing a two-family house, Jennie, the youngest of three kids, lived with her family on one side, while her aunt Aggie and uncle Willie, with their ten, stepladder kids, lived on the other side.
Uncle Willie had a good job and brought home a steady paycheck, while Jennie's daddy worked sporadically and left his meager paycheck on the bar at Paddy's Saloon.
Every payday, Jennie's sniffle-nosed cousins spilled out of their front screen door to sit on their side of the porch, cupping and digging deeply, with their tiny fists, peeling the thick flesh of the fresh, bright-orange fruit.
Every payday, Jennie and her siblings, sat on their side of the porch, staring at the discarded peels falling from those hundred little fingers, silently craving the succulent juice dripping down those ten messy chins as they slurped like hogs and devoured each morsel with glee.
During the five years that Jennie and her siblings lived next door to those ten cousins, not once did a single kid offer to share a measly bite or a slice of one tender, juicy orange.
Above is MadisonWoods FridayFictioneeers...Gorgeous Photo Prompt titled: Rainbows (5/18/12).
Below is my 100-word short story inspired by the above photo.
*** GOD'S RAINBOW ***
I was back in the big city when a midnight call came from the ER.
"Your mother was brought in tonight. She is in a coma with extremely, weak vital signs."
"Amtrak can get me there by 9am. Please keep her alive until I get there. Can you do it? Please. Please. I beg of you."
"I will do my best. Hurry."
I sat with her for eight days, praying and weeping, as she lay there. She came out of it once, squeezed my hand and whispered, "Remember what I told you. When God sees you cry, He sends you a rainbow."
Today, He sent me two.
Above is Madison Woods #FridayFictioneers Photo Prompt - 4/20/12.
Below is my 100-Word Short Story inspired by Madison's photo
*** TEARDROPS ***
Ms. Chicken Valley Queen, wearing her mom's treasured rhinestone teardrop earrings, glows in a gown of yellow feathers, while live chickens peck at her feet. A festive annual parade until the joyful day is interrupted by an unexpected squall. Wind and rain rips through their path. Her throne collapses, spooked chickens jump off the float, feathers fly up her nose. Fierce sneezing loosens one earring; forever lost in the chaos. The ruined day ends in a bucket of teardrops.
Years later, heading back to Chicken Valley, nestled safely in a blue, satin-lined Tiffany gift box, an exact copy of mom's teardrop earrings...not rhinestones, but dazzling diamonds.
Happy birthday, mom.
Above is another wonderful photo prompt provided by Madison Woods FridayFictioneers (4/13/12).
Below is my 100-word short story inspired by Madison's photo prompt.
*** VAN-WINKLE TUNNEL ***
Before construction of the new highway and pedestrian tunnel, this area was our neighborhood playground. My favorite place, where I played with chums after school, until the accident.
Mom came every Sunday to visit my memorial plaque which rests at the mouth of the tunnel; dedicated in my memory, Ellie Van-Winkle. She sat on the left bench, knitting or reading the Bible. She evolved from fancy hats and high heels to comfortable walking shoes; a cane, a shawl and finally a walker. Then she came no more. But I don't miss her. She now sits beside me and the angels.
***
This story is dedicated to my beloved mom who entered this world on 4/14/1912. She was born the day of the Titanic tragedy... 4/14/2012 is their 100th Anniversary.
Hi Lora ~ Congrats on winning 2nd place in The Pen and Ink Blog's Story Prompt Challenge - March, 2012.
The Management
Pen and Ink Blogspot.
Below is my winning story titled based on the above Photo Prompt titled BALLOONS.
*** LITTLE CHICK ***
An array of colored balloons are bundled together waiting to be hung in the hay barn for Susie's birthday party. During the hustle and bustle of preparations, a brisk northern breeze loosens three balloons from its cluster and, as if delighted to be free, two of them sail away to play tag in the sky. The third balloon, a blue one, wavers to and fro on its own; its tail trailing behind in a lazy manner. When the breeze calms down, it floats to a powder landing and settles in the rafters near a haystack where newly-hatched Hummingbird chicks lay warm in their cozy nest of freshly-stacked grass and dry, golden hay. During the happy festivities, mother Hummingbird keeps close watch and circles the rafters to protect her brood. Frightened by the children's laughter and noisy squeals, she carries her sightless chicks one-by-one to a safe hollow in a nearby willow tree. In haste, she loses count and accidentally leaves the smallest behind. When Little Chick opens his bleary eyes, the first thing he sees is the stray blue balloon resting softly beside him and chirps out with glee, "Mama."
Thanks to Madison Woods for the inspiration for this week's story based on the above photo prompt titled: Sunset White Branches.
Below is my 100-word story titled:
*** THE VIEW ***
This is the view from my bedroom window. It never changes. As seasons unfold, it remains the same; cold, unfriendly and forlorn. Ancient branches too brittle and barren to sprout new life. A landscape as depressing as the rundown shack I live in. But I'm alive. I'm young. I'm hopeful. I refuse to give in to this prison of shame and poverty. I sit cross-legged on the frigid, linoleum floor, bony, scabby elbows perched on the windowsill and dream. I imagine all the beautiful things that lie beyond that range. Things with color, music and light to free me from this depressing view and ugly existence.
***JEWELS***
Above is Madison Woods Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction Photo Prompt titled: Jewels. Thanks, Madison.
Below is my 100-word story based on the above prompt.
GRANDFATHER'S JEWELS
Stolen from grandfather's vault containing precious valuables, only a pitiful amount of jewels turned up. They arrived via an unknown source, in battered, brown, envelopes stamped with out-dated Air-Mail markings. The return address in Mexico was a burned-out empty lot strewn with garbage and broken liquor bottles.
After years of frustrating dead-ends, the private detective had his first lead. A baby's pink, hard-plastic teething ring packed among the jewelry. Oversight or tip?
***
See Comments below:
"If you're absent during my struggle, don't expect to be present during my success."
Unknown
Above is MadisonWoods Friday Fictioneers, 100-word photo prompt titled: MY SITTING-SPOT- 2/17/12. Below is my 100-word story.
HER SITTING SPOT
Every spring, she visited her secret summer haven. April showers swept away depressing, dead leaves, giving birth to lush velvet greenery and delicate wildflowers. Her secluded sitting spot. A large rock and a mirror-clear, mellow brook. A lullaby of comfort to escape from forced field work, harsh, unforgiving sun, a chaotic, clamorous home and...him.
Drifting in melancholy thought, dreaming, praying. Sailing on the breeze, soft moccasin footprints. Native Spirit of the Ages whispers into her ear. "Be patient, my child. Be brave. I see what you cannot. Your future will be lifted with light and song and you will shine."
QUOTES OF THE DAY:
"If you want to work on your art, work on your life."
Chekhov
****
"Unless you know your roots, you're a lost soul."
Yip Harburg, lyricist
****
..."absorbing the chill of poverty which never leaves the bones..."
George Bernard Shaw
HELLO FRIENDS ~ WELCOME TO MY BLOG !!
Would you like to become a follower? (It would please me greatly). Just scroll down the left side and see a section where you click on to become a follower. Also, you are welcome to make comments. Hope to see you all soon.
Tip: When you visit and only see one posting listed, scroll all the way down and click on HOME...and you will see every single one.
Hint: Something to look forward to ~ I eventually plan to change my template and include chapters of some new stories.
Thanks,
((Hugs)) Lora
TREASURED MEMORIES
(by Vada Wolter & Joe Zapalac)
Outskirts Press 2011
I am pleased and proud to announce that I have 3 short stories and a few poems published in the above book.
MY NEW YEARS RESOLUTION FOR 2012
I plan to read every single book written by author, historian, Pulitzer Prize Winner, David M. McCullough.
QUOTES OF THE DAY
People cry, not because they're weak -
It's because they've been strong for too long.
Unknown
****
"Art begins in a wound."
John Gardner, Author
HAPPY 2012 EVERYONE. MAY IT BE THE BEST EVER !!!
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