Written for Jim Adams’ Song Lyric Sunday post
entitled ‘World Meteorological Day’
and the theme of ‘weather conditions’.
Here’s my response to this week’s challenge.
Tag: Disagreements
The Continuing Adventures of George & Martha, Vol. 8: Balle en Caoutchouc Rouge (Red Rubber Ball)
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we
are urged to get creative in 250 words or less. The
photo below is our inspiration and this is my story.
Want To Watch A Movie?
Last night we watched another B&W oldie .… The Shop Around the Corner from 1940. Here’s what the critics had to say. We agree.
Critics Consensus: Deftly directed by Ernst Lubitsch from a smart, funny script by Samson Raphaelson, The Shop Around the Corner is a romantic comedy in the finest sense of the term.
Alfred Kralik (James Stewart) and Klara Novak (Margaret Sullavan) are employees at Matuschek and Company, a general store in Budapest. Klara and Alfred are constantly at odds with each other, butting heads and disagreeing on almost everything. Both are enamored of their respective pen pals, who serve as welcome distractions in their lives. Little do they know, they are each the other’s pen pal and, despite outward differences, have unwittingly fallen in love through their letters. Oh, in case you think Mr. Matuschek looks familiar, he’s Frank Morgan who played the wizard in The Wizard of Oz.
I’ll save you a seat. Enjoy the movie! 🎥 🍿 🥤
NAR©2024
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.
The Heartbreak: The Continuing Story of Harvey and Fiona
This is my 3rd story about Harvey and Fiona.
For a look back at earlier installments, click here.
While Harvey slept during the day Fiona cleaned, shopped and cooked. She wanted a vacuum cleaner but Harvey said it was too expensive and the noise would keep him awake so she settled for a carpet sweeper. Their only chance to be together was at breakfast and dinner time – and of course for coffee and dessert when Fiona served Harvey his favorite apple pie. Fiona loved baking and it was all worth it to see the way Harvey’s face lit up every time she made another pie.
Fiona suggested a few times that it would be nice if Harvey worked during the day so they could be like a normal couple and spend more time together but her words fell on deaf ears.
She also longed for a baby. Each time she thought she was pregnant it turned out to be a false alarm. Fiona saw a doctor who wasn’t very sympathetic; he shrugged his shoulders, gave her ambiguous explanations and performed a couple of routine tests. He told her it was just one of those things; not all couples could get pregnant. When Fiona finally got up the nerve to mention to Harvey what the doctor told her, he laughed and said it wasn’t his fault she couldn’t get pregnant; “Just ask that sweet little Frenchie I knocked up during the war” was his mean-spirited reply.
Fiona felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. When she cried that she needed something other than chores to fill her lonely days, Harvey yelled to “go get a job and start earnin’ ya keep around here! Who needs another mouth to feed anyways?” Fiona was reeling; how could he say such hurtful things? Heartbroken, she eventually gave up on having a baby and found a job as a presser in a shirt factory. The work was exhausting and she still had to clean the apartment and cook for Harvey … and bake.
What happened to the guy she married? Harvey was constantly annoyed about something or other and drank more now than usual. He got mean when he drank and Fiona bore the brunt of his anger. When he demanded sex every night before going to work, she kept her mouth shut but she was silently screaming. This was no way to exist, like a piece of property and not a person. She’d lie awake at night remembering her mother’s warning words: “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Can’t you see he’s no good for you? I don’t trust him, Fina girl!” The only thing in her God-forsaken life that she truly enjoyed was baking and she did it all for Harvey.
Fiona would fantasize about how lovely it would be to have her own little bake shop; she’d make lots of delicious cakes and pies for her large following of loyal customers – not just for her selfish husband. She knew she could do it if she only had the chance.
To be continued. For a look back at earlier installments, click here.
NAR©2024
This is “Here Comes The Heartache” by Fair Warning
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Until Now
Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
has challenged us to respond to this photo
in 100 words or less. Here is my story.
Hard to imagine life without her. When the hell did everything start to unravel?
He sat alone in the shell of their apartment nursing his second Dewars. Once upon a time this place was alive with people enjoying one of their famous dinner parties. He could hear the sound of her spirited laugh when someone told a dirty joke.
They were the perfect couple, the envy of all their friends. Theirs was an easy, comfortable marriage. They were in sync in their choices of restaurants, paint colors and the biggest decision of all .… neither one wanted kids.
Until now.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is Landon Austin with “Blindsided”
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.
Jumping The Shark
Two prompts today:
Weekend Writing Prompt and
Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge ~
to include the words ‘bridge’ & ‘turmoil’,
all in 53 words. Here is my story.
There are certain lines that exist in society, even among the closest of friends, lines not meant to be crossed.
She not only crossed the line …. she hurtled the bridge and jumped the shark.
And why? She’s only human and carelessly, regrettably didn’t think things through; now her brain is in turmoil.
This is Billy Joel with “You’re Only Human”
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.
WHEELBARROWS AND WOODPECKERS: PART 2
Yesterday my MC had just emailed his estranged wife
and was hoping for a reply, a Christmas miracle.
Here’s where we left off. Let’s continue:
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※
Push send and cross my fingers that Annie hasn’t changed her email address. Going to bed and will say a prayer for a Christmas miracle…..
I woke up early again today; it’s Christmas morning. I’m anxious and afraid to check my email. Can I bring myself to read beyond the first couple of words? Instead, I decide to wait just a bit and pour myself a cup of coffee. I sit looking out the window as the woodpeckers hop from branch to branch finding their way home.
Did Annie get my email? Will she answer me? I guess I can put off the inevitable for only so long. I decide to check my computer; nothing. My heart is shattered and I crumble onto the chair . What a fool I was to wait so long to reach out to her.
It’s early afternoon now and the luscious aroma of roasting turkey is wafting through every room in the house; I can’t bear the thought of eating Christmas dinner alone. When everything is done cooking, I’ll pack up all the food and bring it to the soup kitchen; at least someone will reap the benefits of my stupidity.
I clean up, get dressed and pour myself a glass of wine. Perhaps I’ll sit by the tree and listen to some Christmas music while the turkey finishes doing its thing. The happy tunes coming from the radio do not match my mood and then, as if by simply willing it to happen, a melancholy song starts up. I never thought I would be spending Christmas like this …. alone, broken-hearted and in tears.
I hastily wipe at my eyes with the back of my hands and turn off the radio. No more music today. Time to see how the dinner is coming along. On my way into the kitchen, I glance out the window at the woodpeckers. Standing by the once useless wheelbarrow, suitcase in hand, is my Annie. She gives me a slow, sweet smile and a little wave.
Without stopping to think “Is this real?”, I flew down the stairs and out the back door. Thank you, God, for second chances.
NAR © 2023
This is “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” by Diana Krall.
A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS,
MY DEAR FRIENDS!
MAY ALL YOUR WISHES COME TRUE!
🎄
This website (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and not for use by anyone except with permission. NAR © 2017-present.
WHEELBARROWS AND WOODPECKERS: PART 1
Taking a short break to celebrate
Christmas with my family.
Rebooting an old favorite from 2021;
some of you have seen it; many haven’t.
💫
My Dear Annie,
It took about ten minutes of me staring at a blank computer screen before I started typing this email – and that’s just today. I’ve been doing the same thing every day for the last eight months. I’ll type a paragraph, then delete it. The idea of reaching out to you began thirty seconds after you left our house and closed the door on our life together. I have about a thousand thoughts and questions swirling around in my brain, much like the snowflakes dancing in the wind in our backyard.
I got up early and made myself a cup of coffee, then sat by the kitchen window and watched the birds at the feeders. You’ll be happy to know the red-headed woodpeckers have returned, just as they always do. How I wish you would return to me, too.
I held my coffee cup up to my nose and inhaled the rich aroma of dark roast. I’m drinking from that cup you gave me ages ago with COOL BEANS scrawled across the front. I use it every day and always think about you (not that I need a reminder) and I’ve decided that today will be the day I must summon the courage to write to you to say “I’m sorry”.
You see, tomorrow is Christmas Day and I can’t think of a better time to tell you what’s on my mind. If I don’t do it today who knows if I ever will? I miss you, Annie. I miss you so damn much it literally hurts. My heart aches for you and my stomach churns when I realize what a first class jerk I was to let you slip through my fingers.
I don’t know what I was thinking. No, I take that back; I do know. I was thinking about myself – me, myself and I. What a stupid, selfish idiot I was. I’m sure you’d agree with that assessment. I’m equally sure there’s a spot for me in the Guinness Book of World Records as the biggest fool ever. How could I expect you to put your dreams and plans on hold while I pursued mine?
If I’ve come to realize anything over these last few months it’s the fact that what I want in life isn’t more important than what you want and all my achievements are not worth a damn without you. I am so sorry for not seeing that sooner.
When I finally realized how empty my life was without you and how much I yearned to be sharing and living our dreams together, you were long gone. I don’t blame you one bit; if I was you, I would have left me, too. I’m useless without you and I’m so ashamed that I put myself before you.
Do you remember that old wheelbarrow we found last year buried under weeds and ivy? It was missing its wheel and was of no use to anyone. You had the brilliant idea of transforming it into a planter instead of throwing it away. I have also lost my wheel, my direction in life and I find I can’t do anything without it, without you. I need you to help bring me back to life, to give me purpose. I need your forgiveness. I need you.
I was driven by my obsession for success and power more than anything else – more than putting you first, more than your deepest desire to start a family. How could I have deprived you of that? How could I have deprived us of that? How could I have been so blind not to see that was exactly what I wanted too? Well, I screwed up royally. All the success and power I ever wanted are mine now but they are hollow victories. The price was too dear – losing you and everything that was and might have been, that should have been. I wake up alone in our bed and come home to an empty house. And all day, every day, I simply exist like a wheelbarrow without a wheel.
I have no idea where you are, how you are or what you’re doing. I pray that you haven’t lost all faith in me, even though that may be what I deserve. That would surely destroy me because my love for you is stronger than ever. I wouldn’t blame you for not believing what I’m about to say but I would do anything, give up everything just to have you by my side once again. I am empty inside without you and I’m begging for a second chance. My one hope that I cling to every day is the fact that I haven’t been served with divorce papers …. yet. Please tell me there’s a chance for us, a chance that you can possibly forgive me.
Christmas Day. What a blessing it would be to have you back, to have you tell me we’re going to be okay! How grateful I would be for the opportunity to show you how much I love you and need you in my life!
Don’t laugh but I’m going to attempt to prepare my very first Christmas dinner by myself. I bought a small turkey, all the fixings and a lovely bottle of wine .… just enough for two. It would give me the greatest joy to share the day with you and every day after that, to hold you in my arms and make all the sorrow go away.
Annie, if only you could sprout wings and fly home to me like the woodpeckers! Will you come home for Christmas? Please come back to me and never leave.
I love you so very much.
Charlie
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※
Push send and cross my fingers that Annie hasn’t changed her email address. Going to bed and will say a prayer for a Christmas miracle.
NAR © 2023
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW
This is U2 with “Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)”
Warmest Wishes This Christmas Eve!
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 