A Day in the Life of a Ballet Seamstress – Friday Fictioneers

Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the Friday Fictioneers, a group of writers who gather to compose a 100-word story based on a photo prompt. This week’s photo was brought to us by Sandra Crook. Sandra, thanks for the inspiration.

When I look at a sewing machine, I think of costumes. My story is a tribute to all the costume makers out there. They work hard and, of course, there’s always drama!

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook
PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

(100 words)

A Day in the Life of a Ballet Seamstress

Reza didn’t look up as she pumped the foot plate of her sewing machine.

Marilyn entered with a notebook pressed to her chest, “Alain wants the birds blue, not green, and not so shiny.”

“So, we’ll throw some powder on them,” Reza said, and then squinted at her.

In the corner, a sea of tulle swallowed Liliana’s tiny frame. Her tutu hung on her like a potato sack. “What happened to my costume!”

“Again! Just eat already,” Reza said.

Liliana erupted, her body shaking with tears, and dropped her head on Reza’s shoulder.

“There, there. Of course, I’ll fix it.” 

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Fireworks Sessions – Friday Fictioneers

Thanks to our lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the Friday Fictioneers, a group of writers who meet weekly to write 100-word stories based on a photo prompt. Check them out!

Thanks to Vijaya Sundaram for this week’s spirited photo. Happy Labor Day to those who are celebrating!

vijaya
PHOTO PROMPT -© Vijaya Sundaram

(Humor: 99 words)

Fireworks Sessions

“You don’t actually see them. It’s more of a feeling.”

“I know,” Anna said.

His tongue felt like a lizard tail in her mouth and so she heaved her hot dogs.

They didn’t attempt another fireworks session until the following weekend when Tommy arrived smeared in mud.

“You owe me,” Tommy said.

They sat on the wet grass on a torn blanket. She kissed his muddy mouth and the moon disappeared under a veil of fog.

“No big deal,” said Anna.

“Yeah, nothing compared to your vomit.”

“Tommy, something tells me we’re going about this fireworks thing all wrong.”

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Beneath – Friday Fictioneers

Happy Friday Fictioneers! I’ve missed everyone. I have been away for a spell.

This is a repeat for me, but I reworked this a bit. I don’t know if I made any improvements.

As always, thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for keeping everything afloat. Congratulations to Rochelle for completing her edits for her third novel in a series entitled AS ONE MUST ONE CAN. Way to go!

Thanks to Georgia Koch for this week’s photo.

Do you believe?

Copyright – Georgia Koch
Copyright – Georgia Koch

Beneath

“We got a boat. No excuses,” Joe said. “Old man Cassel is still out there.”

“Paddling in that pea soup makes about as much sense as surfing a tsunami. You ain’t gettin’ me in that boat.”

“That Nellie business is nothing but a campfire story.”

Heavy air shrouded them, erasing their shapes. The skiff knocked around in the choppy water like driftwood as they attempted to steer in one direction. The water swelled, pulling them toward the center of the lake.

Joe’s radio buzzed. “We got Cassell. C’mon back. Over.”

“I can’t see anything—”

Spiky tendrils latched on, sending them under, below, beneath.

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A Journey by Boat – Friday Fictioneers

Here’s a biographical sketch of  my grandparents’ journey to America. I never got to meet them, but I am grateful for learning about them from my father while was he living. Although it saddens me to think that when I first posted this, he was still alive, I’m still happy we had the chance to share this story and that I heard it from his lips. I consider that a gift. My dad is Michael in the story.

Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the Fictioneers and to her husband, Jan Wayne Fields, for the wonderful photo.

the-boat-and-miss-liberty
PHOTO PROMPT- Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields

Genre: Biography

(105 words)

A Journey by Boat

Melchior, a carpenter, couldn’t have known his fate the day he walked into the church of St. Francis. He saw a smile in her eyes and heard his mother tongue of Swiss German once again. It was here that he met Elizabeth, a stranger in this foreign land, but a neighbor who had lived only twenty miles away in their native Switzerland. Six months later, in this same church, they married.

Their twelve children taught them English. Seven left to fight in the war.

At home by the fire, Melchior played the accordion with his youngest, Michael, while Blackie the dog howled at their feet.

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Caught – Friday Fictioneers

It’s a summer rerun. I loved this prompt back in October 2012 when I wrote this story, and I still love it today. My story…I’m not so sure about. I thought about rewriting the ending, maybe something with more punch, more drama. But after recent events, I had a change of heart. Maybe it’s okay if you have to use your imagination at the end.

As always, thanks so much to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for leading the group and to Jan Morrill for the photo.

back-ally1
PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Marler Morrill

(100 words)

Caught

The white walls caught the light, overpowering  my judgment. I surrendered and receded into the alley. My bare feet cracked with the sand and grit of the pebbles, the heat almost intolerable. Barely distinguishable from the others, I knew this alley wasn’t the right one. Its walls were too high and the blue door wasn’t there before. I felt light-headed.

A few steps into the shade and I saw him, standing on the balcony watching me. Waiting for me. He knew I’d be here.

I crooked my head to see a man walking behind me. My opportunity had suddenly vanished.

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Cottage in the Woods – Friday Fictioneers

As near as I can tell, this prompt was my very first Friday Fictioneers story, four years ago! It’s hard to believe. I couldn’t help but run my story this week…although I made a few changes…because guess what else? June 1st also marks my 4-year Anniversary with WordPress! This is a double celebration of sorts!

Thanks to all my blogging friends who have stuck with me all this time. Truly, I appreciate your support and for taking time to read and comment.

A big thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the Fictioneers. She really is my Blog Fairy Godmother. Cheers! This week’s prompt was provided by Piya Singh.

Thanks to Piya Singh for this week’s photo prompt.
Thanks to Piya Singh for this week’s photo prompt.

Enrique and his wife, Sadie, had walked for hours in overgrown hills and meandered off course. While lumbering through granite rocks and muddy sludge, traces of honeysuckle lit the way to a new path, clear of vegetation and soft under their weary feet.

The cottage appeared before them in sun-kissed light with a delicate trickle of water coaxing them closer. They dropped their packs and splashed their faces with cool liquid and drank.

They could rest tonight. Inside a candle burned and a small, featherbed awaited them. Sadie sighed. The door slammed shut, locking them in. The candle extinguished.

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My original story as first published is here.

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The Doctor is “In” – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time for a 100-word story, brought to you by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, our wonderful host for Friday Fictioneers. Each week, we are challenged to write a 100-word story based on a photo prompt. Thanks to J. Hardy Carroll for this week’s photo.

All are welcome to participate. Give it a try.

jhc7
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

(100 words)

The Doctor is “In”

She imagined the water mark in the corner lengthening, a slithering eel frothing about in the mealy ceiling, its fangs lashing out at her. A twinge ripped at her neck. It would take her into the wall and turn her into nothingness. Disappearing. That she could take.

But the stab of a knife into delicate flesh or a noose cutting into your neck, trapping your last breath. Physical pain was something she could never wrap her head around.

“Josh,” she said. Her three o’clock always sat in the same corner. “How are you?”

“Fine. And you?”

“Just fine. Thank you.”

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