I’ve Seen You Drive

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E.Ayr


I’ve Seen You Drive



Lady Templesworth wheeled onto the pier. Smiting the brake, she pressed the lift enclosing the convertible and shut-off the engine simultaneously.

Quickly disembarking. Lord Templesworth tried to get to the driver’s door of the pink Ferrari before his wife could exit on her own.

She won.

Racing to the dock, she exclaimed, “It’s pink!”

“Completely renovated. Teak decks. Your signature paint. A master and guest berth. A gourmet kitchen. An entertainment room. And of course, the accompanying necessities.”

“It’s beautiful. HoneyBear, why buy this lovely yacht before you’ve taught me to navigate?”

“Entirely a business decision, My PookeyBear. I’ve seen you drive.”



FYI: I cheated a little. I counted Lord Templesworth’s and Lady Templesworth’s name as one word each.



Written for Friday Fictioneers.

A TRUE MOONLIGHT SERANADE

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MorgueFIle March2020 5505949277945981e863844c582745fc


A TRUE MOONLIGHT SERANADE



“Sweetms, when you said we had a five-story beach-front house with a 360-degree lookout tower, this isn’t exactly what I thought you were talking about.

“She’s beautiful, Darling … Isn’t she? You can sleep to the rhythmic beatin’ of the waves every night. And you ought to see it in the moonlight.”

“There appears to be a lot of stairs. What about when our folks visit?”

“Easy peasy. There’s a lower loft under the first floor. I’ve installed an elevator-lift. It’s complete with its own full bath and master suite along with a kitchenette.”

“Looks like you’ve thought of everything.”



Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Week #32: 2020. 

AMOS AND JESSE

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast
PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast


AMOS AND JESSE



“It’s nothin’ to it.”

“Are you sure, Jesse?”

“You’ve heard Uncle Bo talk about train-hopping to go somewhere-or-nother almost every night we camped.”

“But Ma said half-a-what Uncle Bo said was rose-glassed reminiscing.”

“Ma just said that to keep us home longer. Pa needed us to do the farmin’. Well, there’s no farmin’ left. Pas drunk it all away and the bank got the dirt now. You know Ma is going back East. I ain’t a-goin-be no city dandy. Is that what you want?”

“’Course I don’t”

“Then stop bein’ so fickle-hearted and let’s run.”

“Wyoming, here we’s a come!”



Written for Friday Fictioneers: August 8, 2020

It’s Perfect

restaurant
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson


It’s Perfect



The arrangements were complete.

I had double-checked every detail.

Heck, I triple-checked most of them.

After changing my shirt for the fourth time… it was wasn’t dirty, I just couldn’t control my sweating… I calmly walked downstairs. I wanted to check out the table settings before they got here.

It’s perfect.

They are to be seated just in front of the windows. What a lovely view.

It’s perfect.

Wait…

That’s his car. They’re early.

Heading to the back closet, I grab my coat, gloves, and Barrett M95.

If Nathan, my twin brother, gets married before me, everything goes to him.



Written for Friday Fictioneers.

THE ILL-FATED RACE

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold


THE ILL-FATED RACE



“Grab your bag. You know it don’t last long.”

“Already packed from the last one. Didn’t even have to replace the snacks. Last’n disappeared before we’d left town.”

“That’n was a small one. Look at the size of this baby,” Rudolph’s excited was evident. “’Bigger the rainbow, bigger the pot of gold’, Granddad said.”

“Granddad said a lot of things.”

“He won’t’ a lied in his last words… ‘Somewhere over the rainbow…’”

“Rudolph, that wasn’t Granddad. That was Dorothy, of Oz.”

“What did Granddad say?”

“Shut the dad-burn door. It’s cold in here.”

“Oh, then why are we chasing this rainbow?”



Written for Friday Fictioneers: 100 word prompts.

THE MYSTERIOUS TRUTH

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THE MYSTERIOUS TRUTH



“Wait, Andy. Shouldn’t we think about this a little more?”

“Nah. This either opens the door to Grammy’s winter closet, like she said …”

“Or it’s the entrance the elven kingdom Grandfather mutters about when he’s drunk,” finished Walter.

Opening the door, the boys stood stunned. Before them – a winter wonderland.

“Welcome.” They turned and were greeted by a stout, dwarf-like creature wrapped in wolf pelts, holding two crowns. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival.”

“They were both right,” whispered Andy.



Written for the 80-Word Challenge for FANSTORY and Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner: Week #13.

HISTORICAL REPEATS

writers-life
PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold


HISTORICAL REPEATS



Dear Mother,

I hope you are well. I have just finished typing Mr. Tumulty news briefing. Yes, that Mr. Tumulty! (The private secretary to President Wilson) I have a temporary promotion. (If I do well, who knows?) Tumulty’s previous assistant has been out sick. (We are hoping it is not the Spanish flu, as Margaret, the President’s daughter has contracted it. I have been told that several Secret Service are sick also.)

Mr. Tumulty went home today not well. I am being vigilant. We never take our face-masks off here in the office.

Please send all my love,

Aristotle Mansfield



Written for Friday Ficitoneers.

THE OLD ONES ARE THE BEST

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THE OLD ONES ARE THE BEST



“Have you heard the one about…?”

“Sit down. You schlep.” It came from a monstrous brute seated at the bar.

“OK. How about … An oyster, and a lobster, and a goldfish go into a bar …”

The comedian quickly ducks as a napkin filled with goodness knows what approaches his face.

“Not that one either. I’m not from around these parts. The first time I was driving through …” This one was drowned by raucous boos and horrid hisses.

“No biographical jokes either.” The comedian boldly stepped closer to the microphone. “Knock, knock…”

The audience was instantly quiet.



Written for THE CARROT RANCH CHALLENGE: December 19, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that features an open mic night. Take a character backstage, on stage or into the deep woods. Go where the prompt leads!

“OH, THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE…”

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“OH, THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE…”



“Oh, there’s no place like …” carolers were approaching my door.

I’d gotten a call from my elderly neighbor just seconds ago. “They’re all over.” She whispered. “All over the street.” She was frantic. Should she call 911… she thought she should… but she was sure the police wouldn’t believe her.

Before I could decide how I could be of assistance, there was a knocking on my door.

Parting the curtains, I peeped.

Gnomes… and gnomes… and gnomes. As far as the eye could see.

“… For the holidays you can’t beat gnome sweet gnome!”

And then they left.



Written for THE CARROT RANCH 99- WORD CHALLENGE: 12-12-19.

Requirements: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a gnome. It can be a garden gnome, a Christmas Joulutonttu, or a sauna protector. You can write magical realism, or feature contemporary gnome-like product.  Go where the prompt leads!

 

CUT AND RUN

mikhaels-photo
PHOTO PROMPT © Mikhael Sublett


CUT AND RUN

A note … on the pillow.

That was how Marcelle was ending it.

   We both knew this had to end. I thought it was better this way.

                I’ll always have tender memories of our time together.

I’ll show you tender memories…

Crumpling the note, Mia picked up the nearest lamp and began making new memories.

The mirror was the morning’s first victim … then on to Marcelle’s horrific paintings. And then his ghastly sculptures!



Written for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS: DECEMBER 13, 2019.