PRINCESS ANUSHKA

Building Kent-Bonham

This week’s Rochelle Wisoff-Fields #Friday Fictioneer above photo has been provided by fellow writer, Kent Bonham. Below is my 100-word story inspired by Kent’s unique photo.

NOTE: When I saw the reflection of a hi-rise in the lower window, I pretty much had my story.

**** PRINCESS ANUSHKA ****

Princess Anushka of Bavaria, the last of her royal line, existing on a monthly stipend, remained a recluse in her 10-room Baroque apartment. Surrounded by ornate Italian furnishings, faded Edelweiss wallpaper and chipped gold-leaf mirrors, she treasured moments of fleeting memories from wrinkled photographs of her handsome, secret Nazi lover.

From her top floor balcony, she watched in awe as a modern 80-story hi-rise rose and disappeared in the hazy, morning clouds. During renovations, they offered her eighty thousand dollars to vacate. The last tenant to resist, she settled for a cool million and enjoyed her twilight years in the modern hi-rise penthouse.

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GRAMP’S LIBRARY

GRAMP'S LIBRARY

This week’s FridayFictioneer photo is provided by fellow writer, Claire Fuller. Below is my 100-word short story inspired by Claire’s lovely photo. (4/26/13).

GRAMP’S LIBRARY
“Nice of Nana to hold your Sweet Sixteen party in this magnificent VIctorian mansion. What’s in here?”

“Gramp’s private library.”

(Gasp) “Wall-to-wall books. I could live forever in this room.”

“That miserly coot never let us step foot in here.”

“Not so miserly. You said he left you a lifetime trust fund.”

“Can’t touch it until I’m twenty-five. Plus, Mr. Scrooge added a crazy stipulation. Must prove to the Trustees with book reports that I’ve read every book in this room before I see a penny.”

“For someone who never reads, that’s torture. Here. Start with this one…War and Peace.”

HONEYCOMB

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HONEYCOMB

The Lord made the bee and the bee made the honey. The honeybee looking for a home, made a Honeycomb. He roamed the world and gathered all the honey in one sweet ball. After a million trips, he honey-kissed my baby’s lips. I looked all around for a little old word that sounds sweet like a turtledove and decided to call it love. I traveled the world looking everywhere getting love from here, love from there and put it all in a soft, secret place in my baby’s heart. Soon Honeycomb became my life. Soon Honeycomb became my wife.

** Inspired by Jimmy Rodgers famous song, Honeycomb (written by Bob Merrill).

DUMB REDNECK

DUMB REDNECK

This week’s Friday Fictioneeer photo prompt is provided by fellow writer, Sandra Crook (copyright). Below is my short story inspired by Sandra’s photo. (4/12/13). DUMB REDNECK JEB! What the hell is this ugly thing sitting on our front porch? That’s … Continue reading

Note to my FFictioneer friends.

Dear friends – As you see, I am new to WordPress and find it difficult… so I appreciate your patience.  I fixed my sh.story titled: The Mysterious Box and edited the story.

NOTE:  The many clandestine efforts of the underground Polish Home Guard during WWII which I featured in my story, is based on true facts. They were clever and used whatever they could to distribute their anti-Nazi messages, including trees.

THE MYSTERIOUS BOX

THE MYSTERIOUS BOX

This week’s FridayFictioneer photo is provided by Scott Vanatter. Copyright – Indira. Below is my sh. story. (4/05/13) THE MYSTERIOUS BOX Visiting his now peaceful homeland, Stanislaw ran to the trunk of his favorite, childhood tree. Instead of the beloved … Continue reading

STRANGE SIGHTINGS

STRANGE SIGHTINGS

**** STRANGE SIGHTINGS **** Rental agents claim it was impossible to sell the house after local and national media reported the chilling details of the home invasion and senseless slaughter of it occupants. No luck after five years, the realtors … Continue reading

ICE STORM

Congratulations to fellow FridayFictioneer, Jen/Elmowrites. Baby Sebastian. Born 11/04/12. Welcome to the world !!!

This weeks above FF photo prompt is provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Below is my 100-word short story inspired by Rochelle’s photo. (11/09/12).


                                                **** ICE STORM ****


“Marvin, you’ve been staring out that window for three hours.”

“Worried about Katie driving in this ice storm. Should have taken the plane,”

“She’s driving up with Jake.”

“Jake?”

“He wants to ask your permission.”

“For what?

“Do I have to spell everything out for you?  He’s proposing on Christmas Eve.”

“Nice holiday surprise. Where you going?

“Tidy the guest room.”

“Wait. I see headlights coming up the driveway,”

SEASIDE HEIGHTS

This week, RochelleWisoff-Field’s FridayFictioneer photo prompt is provided by fellow FF writer, Ted Strutz. (11/02/12). Below is my 100-word story inspired by Ted’s interesting photo.


                                         **** SEASIDE HEIGHTS ****

At twelve, I set up beach umbrellas for $2.00 a day, plus tips.  At fifteen, I helped dad run the Penny Arcade and Roller Coaster. Mom was a booth vendor and sold sunglasses. At eighteen, I became a life guard and spotted her on the Carousel. Under the boardwalk, we experienced the thrill of our first awkward kiss. We married and lived on the shore. We sired beach bum twins and they gave us five surf-riding grandkids. 

Last Monday, Sandy destroyed our family beach house, but not our spirit. We survived and shall rebuild our shattered lives and home.


**** A tribute to the victims and survivors of Hurricane Sandy.


RAIN BUCKET

This week, MadisonWood’s Friday Fictioneer banner has been passed to our dedicated FF writer and friend, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Above is Rochelle’s first photo prompt. Below is my 100-word short story inspired by Rochelle’s charming photo. (10/26/12)


                                              **** RAIN BUCKET ****

“Gino. We’re busy. How much longer are we holding that corner table?”

“Don’t worry, Flossie. She’ll be here.”

“But it’s six months since he stopped coming.”

“She will come. She will wait.”

“How long did you say they met at this table.”

“Two years straight. Every Friday. 8pm – sharp. They filled that rain bucket with sweet talk, laughter and stolen kisses.”

“Maybe he died or something.”

“Naw. Last time they met, I saw their heads huddled in serious talk. She cried as he tried to console her. I seen it all before.

“Looks like he filled that rain bucket with broken promises and heartbreak. Damn cheating men.”