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When We Were Young

December 11, 2014

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! We are a community of writers from around the world who post 100-word stories between Wednesday and Friday each week. The stories are all based on a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.  Please visit Rochelle’s blog for more information…and join us if you wish!

This week’s photo is by fellow writer Sandra Crook. Thank you, Sandra!

Sandra Crook river img_0818

Photo Copyright – Sandra Crook

When We Were Young

by Jan Brown

When we were 20, we met by the river. He was fishing; I was birdwatching and practically tripped over him. He said I was the finest thing he had caught all day.

When we were 30, we bought a raft and paddled our way through whitewater rapids and waterfalls.

When we were 40, we bought a canoe and glided through still waters. We lay on the side of the river, making love under the stars.

When I was 50, I drove back to the place we met, but the river was filled with trash.

I could not scatter his ashes there.

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If you missed my blog post on the Pacific “trash vortex,” (and you probably DID miss it!) you can read it here.

To read more Friday Fictioneers’ stories, click the link:

Teenage Dream

November 26, 2014

Happy Thanksgiving, and welcome to Friday Fictioneers! We are a community of writers from around the world who post 100-word stories based on a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.  Please visit Rochelle’s blog for more information…and join us if you wish!

This week’s photo is by fellow writer Randy Mazie. Thank you, Randy!

I have been absent awhile, focusing on my health, recovery from surgery and the various successes and failures of physical therapy. I hope I am moving forward, and I am thankful for the medical professionals who make that happen.

I am thankful for the friends and relatives who love me and whom I love. I am thankful for Olga, who is making delicious turkey tomorrow.

I am thankful for the freedom to think, talk, write, tweet and post anything I want—even if, most days, I am too tired to do so.

I am thankful for my faith which, while shaken many times, continues to hold a beacon of hope. Can we live very long without hope? I don’t think so. The human spirit wants to believe we can continue to evolve, to create something better, a better version of ourselves and of the world.

I am thankful for you, dear readers, for your caring comments and lovely “Likes.” You put a smile on my face! I hope my story will do the same for you.

bike_detour_at_library_randy_mazie

Teenage Dream

by Jan Brown

AGE 16:

I hate Thanksgiving!

Okay, what I really hated was LAST Thanksgiving, when my boyfriend came home from college and broke up with me.

My friends had warned me that our relationship was doomed. He went away to college, not just to learn about history or political science, but to learn about the world and, especially, to meet new people.

And he did.

Damn it!

AGE 17:

My cousin brought two of his studly study group members to Thanksgiving dinner this year. I am currently dating both of them.

The future is looking much brighter now.

I love Thanksgiving!

To read more Friday Fictioneers’ stories, click the link below:

Gate A-4

November 17, 2014

Jan Brown:

What a beautiful experience–just had to share this with my wonderful readers!

Originally posted on Live & Learn:

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Gate A-4 By Naomi Shihab Nye:

Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.” Well— one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.

An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. “Help,” said the flight agent. “Talk to her . What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”

I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly. “Shu-dow-a, shu-bid-uck, habibti? Stani schway, min fadlick, shu-bit-se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be…

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What the Mirror Shows

September 16, 2014

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! We are a community of writers from around the world who post 100-word stories based on a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.  Please visit Rochelle’s blog for more information…and join us if you wish!

This week’s photo is by fellow writer Janet Webb. Thank you, Janet!

I’ve been absent from these pages for a couple of months, busy (overwhelmed, actually) coping with medical issues.  If this story seems a little different from my usual fare, it is. I’m not sure it follows the “rules.” It’s exactly 100 words, but it’s not really fiction. It is, however, full of feelings that I needed to express.

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Photo Copyright: Janet Webb

What the Mirror Shows

by Jan Brown

Jennifer packed her bag. No makeup on the day of surgery. The mirror shows every time-worn line around her questioning eyes. Is it hope she should be feeling? Or something closer to dread?

She blinks back tears as the doorbell rings.

Carmen, her BFF, is taking her to the hospital. Jennifer is hesitant to unload her fears and sadness on Carmen. Her friendship and moral support is priceless; it deserves a positive response.

The tears fall anyway, and Carmen gets a flood of raw honesty, a gloomy glimpse into her friend’s desperation.

Jennifer wonders: What will the mirror show tomorrow?

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To read more Friday Fictioneers’ stories, click the link below:

Jamie’s Dilemma

July 17, 2014

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! We are a community of writers from around the world who post 100-word stories based on a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.  Please visit Rochelle’s blog for more information…and join us if you wish!

This week’s photo is by fellow writer Adam Ickes.

Photo Copyright: Adam Ickes

Photo Copyright: Adam Ickes

 

Jamie’s Dilemma

by Jan Brown

Jamie sighed deeply and nudged Skylar awake.

Standing upright in the narrow space of the storeroom, Jamie adjusted her miniskirt and wondered how long the red marks on her thighs would be noticeable.

For some reason, a creepy ram’s head was stored in the corner. It had one eye that seemed to follow Jamie’s every move. She bent down and discovered a tiny camera in the eye socket.

Was it transmitting to the Security Department or, worse yet, to Jamie’s husband?

Skylar said, “I see you noticed my camera! I’ve been compiling a video to surprise you on your birthday.”

For more Friday Fictioneers’ stories, click the link:

Throwback Thursday – Glee

June 26, 2014
tags: ,

This is what Glee Club looked like, circa 1966-67. Not quite as glamorous or cool as the current TV show, huh?

This pic was taken when I was getting ready for the state competition. I don’t remember how the glee club fared, but my trio brought back the silver :-) Woohoo!

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Summer Lovin’

June 25, 2014

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! We are a community of writers from around the world who post 100-word stories based on a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog. Please visit her lovely blog for more information…and join us if you wish!

Our fearless leader is taking a vacation, but she is re-running a photo prompt from August of 2012, and I am resurrecting the little love story I wrote in response to it. The theme of love and first kisses is particularly relevant today because it is my sister’s 20th wedding anniversary!

They began dating when they were both divorced and in their forties, so their first kiss was not an actual “first” kiss. But I think it must have been pretty great, because my sister called me late at night after their first date, to tell me 1) what a nice guy he was, 2) what a nice time they had and 3) he’s a great kisser!!!

So here is my little love story, in honor of Rita and Steve ♥♥♥

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Photo Copyright: Laura Helms

Old Tree, Young Love

by Jan Brown

They sat in the crotch of the tree, facing each other, legs open, hers on top of his. Their feet dangled freely, her left shoe slowly slipping, threatening to succumb to the force of gravity. She was more concerned about the force of desire. Hers and his. Equally strong.  As a thoroughly modern girl, she acknowledged her sexual nature. But still technically a child, she didn’t quite know what to do about it. She hoped her boyfriend would have a clue, but if he didn’t kiss her soon she might scream in frustration. Then, suddenly, ahhhh….

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