Flash, Short Story

Nowhere Land

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Our gracious host, Rochelle, at Friday Fictioneers
asks us to use the photo below as inspiration
to write creatively in 100 words or less while
making every word count. This is my flash.

Photo Prompt © Ted Strutz

Rick made himself comfortable in his beat-up Naugahyde Barcalounger, iPad nestled on his lap, a jumbo can of Bud Lite to his right, Utz pork rinds to his left. This could be the luckiest night of his vapid life. Rick loosened the drawstring of his sweatpants and wriggled his feet out of his Air Jordan knockoffs; this online mating game could take a while. Rick’s father longs for the day he moves out of the basement and stops being a drain on his wallet. His mother still calls him Dicky, waiting on him hand and foot.

Rick isn’t going anywhere.

NAR©2025
100 Words

This is “Nowhere Man” by the Beatles

7 February 2025

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for Nancy ~ The Sicilian Storyteller, Nancy (The Sicilian Storyteller), The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk, and The Rhythm Section, and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

74 thoughts on “Nowhere Land”

    1. Fortunately not mine either!

      When my sons were barely teens, I brought them to the laundry room and, with a Sharpie, I wrote on the washing machine DETERGENT GOES HERE. SOFTENER GOES HERE. BLEACH GOES HERE. I never did their laundry again after that. True story.

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      1. Well, at least you showed yours. My youngest son, when he was in high school (it was just the two of us by this time) decided he would do his own laundry. I don’t remember why, he was very critical of me in those years, so I don’t remember what I was doing wrong at that point (haha), so without ever discussing it he just started doing his own laundry. Months later I found out he was only using Downy and no detergent. :/

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    1. You are right, Linda. The only one in this sordid mess with their head on straight is the dad who can’t wait for his son to move out and make a life for himself on his own. The mother won’t stop mothering and the son has zero ambition. He’s quite content in his stunted development.

      Great comment!

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      1. I had a situation similar to this one when I was still working. The father wanted to move allhis son’s stuff out for the garbage pickup, but Mom just wanted to “make some rules” for the son. I asked her how she thought they would enforce any rules on the son, who was in his 50s. Sad situation, for sure.

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  9. This is so good, with your song selection. Writer and DJ, Nancy! Not only have you turned me into an appreciator of the Beatles, but your story is parallel to the life of my friend’s brother. There comes a point when it’s time to leave the comfort of the basement. Oh brother!

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    1. Oh brother, indeed! The time to leave the basement has come and gone; it should have not progressed beyond his teen years. The person usually at fault in these situations is dear old mom. “No other woman will ever love him like I do!” she cries into her apron and sadly, she’s right! He’s a lazy, spoiled man-child and she’s an enabler. What a crying shame! 🥲

      I’m so glad to hear you have progressed to the stage of Beatles appreciator! In almost every instance in life, there’s a Beatles song that fits. If the music doesn’t do it for you, read the lyrics. The boys are poets! 🖤🖊️

      Thank you, appreciator Michele! Your very kind and generous comments always brighten my day. ☀️

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      1. In my friend’s case, mom is the enabler, yes. 😞 As for the Beatles, you’ve shared songs I’ve never heard of and the way you present the music, and information has inspired a new awareness and appreciation. Thank you, for all that you do and share, Nancy, including your own form of beautiful sunshine! 🌞

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    1. “It takes two, baby!” I’ve seen this sort of situation within my own family, adult male cousins who are completely dependent on their mother. She complains and cries into her apron but she loves the fact that they need her. They can’t function without her! Now who’s to blame for that? It’s the familiar sad story of enabling which does no one any good.

      Thanks, Mitch. I enjoyed reading your comments.

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  26. Sad to say, I know two men like that. Mom calls every day. Still married to mother. Lazy, useless, blobs of humanity, or maybe Jabba the Hut. Makes me feel kind of oily and icky when I’m around them the few times of year. Wondering why you picked that subject? Well, someone has to bring it up. Right? Brave gal that you are.

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    1. Who knows what moves the writer? My mind’s eye saw my cousins Louie & Frankie, grown man-children incapable of taking a piss without mommy’s guiding hand. Disgraceful. And perhaps a bit of George Costanza to lighten the mood.

      Thanks, Phil.

      PS – I enjoyed reading Blood On The Keyboard And God Slaps Me Up The Side Of My Head but for whatever reason WP would not allow me to comment. Go figure.

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      1. George Constanza, perfect choice. WP is getting on my nerves, this has happened before when I write something the “happiness engineers” don’t like. I’ll check the settings. Sorry about all that.

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