I did this pretty quickly today. I will read stories as soon as I am able. Thanks for reading. Have a great weekend!
More stories from the Friday Fictioneers can be found here.
Literary Fiction: 100 words
Copyright – Renee Heath
A Vision In White
With sagging knees and flesh protruding from the elastic grip around her legs, Giselle trudged along Main Street. Her bosom spilled out of her bodice which now required stitching. She held a needle between her fingers as she entered a shop.
“What about yellow? Would that work?”
“Who doesn’t have white thread?” Fury unsettled Giselle’s piercing gaze.
“Here,” the shopkeeper said, with a white spool in his hand. “Just take it.”
In the front row, Giselle gazed up at her daughter under thick-set, false eyelashes. Between pirouettes, her daughter gasped at her mother trying to do outdo her once again.
I laughed at the end of this, mothers! Though spilling bosoms is a vivid image, well done Amy very engaging.
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Thank you kindly, Summerstommy!
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Oh wow, is this a mommy dearest thingy? Well written Amy. I could see an older Rosalind Russell sort of thing going on. Kind of creepy.
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Thanks, Jackie. This is the extreme stage mom. I’m not too familiar with Rosalind Russell. In any case, I’m happy you found it creepy!
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I like old movies, the really old ones. Or I am showing my age. Ha! An older Rosalind Russell was the best kind of creepy mother material. An even better one was Joan Crawford. 😉 Either would have made a great stage mom.
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I am familiar with Joan Crawford. Creepy, indeed! 🙂
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Oh, I just hate it when my bosom spills out of my bodice, don’t you? 😉
Nice piece!
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Ha, oh yes!! It’s an everyday problem! Thanks, Carrie.
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What’s worse than a stage mom? An upstage mom! Very comical, Amy.
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Thanks, Honie! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
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I chuckled at the spilling bosom, very good 🙂
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Thanks, Helen! Ballerinas aren’t allowed to spill their bosoms, are they? Thanks for reading.
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I’ve always felt sorry for people who had to deal with “stage parents.” It’s sad when people want to live vicariously through their children. Or, in this case, to outdo their children!
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Yes, I agree it is sad. In this case, I think a bit frightful! Thanks for reading.
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Love it – a real bodice ripper!
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Thank you, Ginger!
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Dear Amy,
This takes place in Independence, Missouri, doesn’t it?
Great story.
Aloha,
Doug
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Thanks, Doug. Sure, tutus are not just for performances and Halloween! Thanks for reading. Aloha, Amy
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Dear Amy,
I’m pretty sure I waited on this woman the other day at my store. Quite the visual. I’m amused.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Dear Rochelle,
Perhaps you channeled of vision of her to me. Ha ha! I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thanks.
Amy
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Then I humbly apologize.
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Not necessary, Rochelle. I’ll take all the inspiration I can get. I should thank you. Thanks!
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Hi Amy,
Poor girl. I’ve known mothers like the one you describe. Your mind is definitely working way outside the box with this story! Ron
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Thanks, Ron! I’ve seen a few in my day. I certainly cannot pass up a tutu story. Thanks for reading. Amy
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hahaha oh god that was hilarious. the poor girl… imagine what her mom would wear on her wedding day! loved this. 🙂
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Thanks, kz!
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WIth a mom like that, you better pay more attention in science class girl 🙂
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No doubt, Bjorn. Watch out for that arsenic!
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The way she is described in those opening lines, all the way to “just take it!” i a classic, and then there is that feeling of great malaise, the realisation that I am familiar with one or two women like that, who are as you painted, but almost never realised it until your story..Poor daughter. I actually really feel for her.
Nice ‘new’ gravatar picture.
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Thank you, Managua. You are so kind. Thanks, I felt it was time to change the ole gravatar.
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I feel for this daughter! Can you imagine a mother who actually wears false eyelashes and lets her bosom hang out? Yeah, me neither. But, they really do exist.
Thanks for the giggles, Amy!
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Thanks, Anka! Glad to give you a laugh.
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Not being a mother or a daughter, it’s tough for me to relate.
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It’s okay, Frank. I totally understand.
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🙂
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You hooked me with the name Giselle, but when her bosom started falling out my train of thought went tumbling after it. 🙂 Cute story, Amy.
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How did that happen….I don’t understand. Ha ha. 🙂 Thanks, Russell.
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Amy, I just around to reading this after being out of town all weekend. That poor daughter, still having to compete with her mother. It’s funny, my jaw almost dropped open when I started reading this. I’m pretty sure I didn’t tell you, but in my belly-dancing/time travel story that I am writing at your prompting, the belly-dancer’s name is Giselle. (It’s totally finished, by the way; I’m publishing it on Smashwords this week; I’ll send you a copy first though.)
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Welcome back, David! No, you didn’t tell me your character was named Giselle. I swear I think it’s a collective consciousness thing going on with this group. This kind of thing has been happening to me lately! That’s so wild! Congrats on completing your story and publishing on Smashwords. I can’s wait to read it!
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