Flash Fiction #249

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

RELATIVE RELATIVES

Hi Daddy!  When are ya comin’ home??

My business deal’s almost finished.  I’ll be home on Friday.  Anything interesting happen?

The roses died.

Oh…. why?

The heat from the fire.

Fire??!  What fire?

When the garage burned.

The garage burned!!? How?

The firemen said that it was sparks from the house that set it on fire.

The house was on fire!??  What happened?

Mommy says that it happened when the furnace exploded.

Furnace exploded!??  Was anybody injured?

No Daddy, but we’re gonna hafta get some new roses when we get out of this motel.

MOTEL!!??

Here’s Mommy.  She can ‘splain.  😳

***

Aah – the innocence of childhood.  Everybody’s got their own priorities.  Daddy’s may be home-owners’ insurance.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #248

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

THE MALE MUST GO THROUGH

The late, great, Bob Bryant.

Well, the only thing he was great at, was being late.  He was born almost two weeks after his due date, and never caught up.

He was late for breakfast, late for classes, late to get his drivers’ licence, and late for his senior prom.  His Mother told him that he’d be late for his own funeral.  If he’d shuffled his feet faster, he’d have been on the sidewalk, instead of shuffling off to Buffalo, in front of that bus.

Here he was, returning from the crematorium.  With COVID-delayed postal delivery, Mom would be right.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

’20 A to Z Challenge – W

 

 

 

I recently told a reader that I spoke/wrote all my Scottish Gaelic in English.  I told another that I did the same thing with the Spanish that he contributed.  It seems so simple, yet it’s harder than it seems, because there is no English language.  Every word in the language came from somewhere – everywhere – else.

The English language imports words from other languages wholesale, and then claims them as its own.  Some words are ‘naturalized’ – accepted and commonly used – more, and more quickly than others.  Then there are words that only pretentious wordnuts (with the accent on Nuts) like me, are even aware of, much less occasionally use.  This brings us to today’s (and yesteryear’s) social-commentary word

WEISSNICHTWO

wise-nicked-woe

Its meaning in the original German was, not clear where.  It came into English with the more substantial, definitive meaning of know not where.  In almost two-hundred years, I’m sure it must have been used a few times.  It was dragged, kicking and screaming, into English in 1833 by the British writer, Thomas Carlyle.  It was made famous – or infamous – by its use in his Latin-titled book, Sartor Resartus.

Even back then, he used it to describe a First-World problem.  World cities, especially those in Europe, were losing their visual culture, and were becoming homogeneous, indistinguishable, one from another.  There were Jews in Belgrade, Arabs in Marseilles, and Irish in London.  If you roused from a drunken stupor and wandered into the streets, you wouldn’t know where you were, until you fell into the Thames, or the Seine, or the Moscow River – and with the state, or lack of, municipal sanitation, even not then.

He used the word Weissnichtwo as the name of an indefinite, unknown, or imaginary place, like Utopia, Brigadoon, or Shangri-La.  The problem situation has only got worse over the years.  With the ubiquitous McDonalds, Domino’s, and Starbucks, and rampant, often war-driven immigration, a traveler might be anywhere.

I imagine that you’re just over there, shaking your head at this word.  You could be much closer to my next post soon, if you pop back in a couple of days.  I promise not to use any of those big, foreign words.  Might even offer up a few chuckles.   😀

Flash Fiction #247

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

LEFT HANGING

Ah, the joys of being a writer.  At least I’ve identified my Flash Fiction.
Big deal!  We’ve got your number,

I downloaded Rochelle’s photo.
Ho Hum!  After only eight years of practice.

I have a title.
Life imitating art – again.

I have a theme.
Your therapist will be intrigued.

I have a bright, colorful story arc.
Which will not end in a pot of gold!

All I need now is a great finish, a fascinating denouement.  Think, Archon!
We’re sorry!  The inspiration that you are trying to reach is currently binge-watching The Expanse, on Amazon.  Please try again later.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #246

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER

I never thought I’d say, ‘I wanna go back to work.’

It’s nice that the company arranged working remotely from home by computer, but, I want to go to the break room for a mug of the world’s worst coffee, or ruin my diet with a donut or cake – ‘cause it’s always someone’s birthday.  I miss the office gossip, politics, and resident weirdo.  I miss the water-cooler sports discussions, even if I hate sports.  I even miss breathe-on-you, Lecherous Lennie’s tales of barroom conquests – all the little things that used to irk me.

This “NEW NORMAL” is getting old, fast.

***

Want to join the Friday Fictioneers fun??  Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #245

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

THE PARTY’S OVER NOW

The band, Semisonic, got a one-time-only, one-song-only chance to play their hit, Closing Time, at the White House, for El Trumpo’s going-away party.

Gather up your jackets and make it to the exits
You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!
Every new beginning’s from some other beginning’s end

This place is deserted.
Where is my cabinet?
You exiled or alienated most of them sire.

Where’s Pence?
You had him beheaded, sire.

Where is Melania?
She and Barron abandoned ship, and are swimming to put as much distance between you as they can, before we sink sire.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

’20 A To Z Challenge – U

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s New Pussycat? Whoaoo-oaoo-oaoo-whoa!  Tom Jones says, It’s Not

UNUSUAL

to hit a bit of writers block, but that’s old news.

What is also not unusual is that, like many other entertainment personalities, the Welsh singer, TOM JONES, isn’t.  He is Sir Thomas John Woodward OBE.  Jones is the most common Welsh surname, although there does not seem to be any among his immediate ancestors.

I can find no proof that he assumed the name Tom Jones because of a desire to reference the raunchy 1749 English novel with that name, which enjoyed a resurgence and republishing, just as he was beginning his public career.

Still, at the height of his popularity, inside industry observers estimated that he was having sex with up to 250 female fans per year.  His son/manager says that he is astounded and embarrassed that even into his 60s and 70s, female audience members were throwing panties with their phone number onstage.

So, I you got screwed without even a kiss, because Creativity bailed out and went for a beer, Desperation moved into the pilot’s seat, and barely landed a post with a U word in it.

I could go on a #MeToo rant, about guys like Bill Clinton, Harvey Weinstein, Peter Nygard, Jeffrey Epstein, Randy Prince Andy, Keith Raniere and Bill Cosby.  Men like this regard themselves, and are regarded by others, as alpha males, somehow entitled to unlimited sex with an unlimited number of females.  Sadly, these actions and attitudes are also not unusual.  Cosby’s only difference was that he had a kink where he preferred his victims unconscious.  All they have done is bring the concept of droit du seigneur up to date into the modern, electronic age.

I won’t do that (Too late!) because this post is already too depressing.  I’ll have something a little more upbeat in a couple of days.  C U then.  😀

Flash Fiction #244

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

WHERE THERE’S SMOKE

Why can’t we stay up till midnight on New Year’s Eve??  What are they doing?

I don’t know.  Lift me up so that I can see over the counter…. Nuthin’ much, just drinkin’ cola outta glasses, talkin’ and smokin’.

Uncle Bob doesn’t buy his cigarettes at a store.  I think he picks his own tobacco in the woods – he calls it skunk-weed.  What’re they talkin’ about?

Nuthin’ really.  It doesn’t make sense to me, but it must be funny, ‘cause they’re all laughin’ a lot.

I’m gonna have chips and dip and Cheezies for New Year’s when I’m an adult.

***

Some adults never grow up.  As Rochelle’s site says, ‘Growing old is inevitable.  Growing up is optional.’  At least these kids were supposed to be in bed, but little mice have big noses.  Celebrate New Year’s any way you want, but stay safe.  Let’s do this again next year.  😀

***

If you’d like to have some fun – in a non-smoking household – go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #242

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

SOMETHING’S FISHY

Fish – The only animal that grows to twice its size, between being caught, and being described.

Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day.
Teach a man to fish, and he’ll sit in a boat all day and throw beer cans in the lake.

A Scottish fisherman was on his way home after a disappointing day, where he’d had, perhaps, a few wee shots of antifreeze.  Spotting a scarecrow in a field, he shouted, “Yerr a damned liar!”

Tranquility is knowing the difference between ‘fishing,’ and ‘catching.’

Think there’s something fishy about today’s philosophy episode??  Me too!

***

Wanna join the fun??  Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Flash Fiction #241

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

SELF ACTUALIZATION

Life was a giant jigsaw puzzle to him.  He’d attempted to fit in, but every time he tried, it seemed that there was a protruding corner, or an unfilled gap.  Everyone else knew that the answer to 2 + 2, was 4.  For him, it might be ‘Blue,’ or ‘Yesterday.’  This had been going on forever.

He’d finally learned to accept himself for who he was, and not struggle to be acceptable to everyone else.  His list of friends was short, but they were all real.  They stood together, by standing apart.  He liked being a shepherd, not a sheep.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.