Written for Gerry & Sue’s Weekly Prompts
Wednesday Challenge (‘screechy’).
This is my response.
Tag: Friends
The Bus Ride
Written for OLWG #410.
The three prompts are shown below.
This is my story.
The Thing
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.
Summer Fling
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #404
using the word “tarnish”. In 55 words, this is my flash.
With Love From Us: A Haibun
Written for dVerse Poetics where the theme is
“Despite and Still”. My inspiration is the poem seen below
written by John N. Morris. Here is my haibun.
Snow Job: Sharing My World
Written for Share Your World 25th November
where Di has asked some questions about snow.
Giving Thanks
Today is Thanksgiving Day here in the US. Bill and I will celebrate this beautiful holiday by spending the day with our family, sharing our love and a delicious meal. We are fortunate to have so many blessings for which we are eternally grateful.
Among my many blessings I count you, my dear WordPress friends. I wish you all the best life has to offer and endless reasons to be thankful in the coming years.
Blessings on you and yours today and every day.
With warmest wishes and many thanks ~
Nancy 🧡
NAR©2024
This is “Thanksgiving Song” by Mary Chapin Carpenter
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for 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.
Becoming Strangers: A Dectina Refrain
Written for Sue & Gerry’s Weekly Prompts Weekend
Challenge – ‘damaged’. This is my Dectina Refrain.
Another Day: An Ovi Poem
Written for Ovi Poetry Challenge #75.
Our inspiration word is “persevere” and this is my ovi.
Just Passing Time
Sadje has asked us in her Sunday Poser #208 – Making Money:
“Making money from your blog is becoming easier, will you
take this opportunity?” Here is my answer to her question.
On the Corner of Elm and Poplar
Written for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday 10.31.24.
We’re offered incredibly creative images to inspire
and get our writing juices flowing. This is my story.
Let It Out
Written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge
and Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge incorporating
the words ‘leaves’ and ‘judge’. This is my story.
It’s been 16 years but I can remember everything about that night.
We were out to dinner with our friends Lily & Mac and Karen & Rob. I had been feeling a little anxious the whole day but figured I’d be fine at dinner – after all, these were people I knew and loved and who knew and loved me. Sitting at the table I was uneasy but hoped the feeling would subside.
It didn’t. It continued to build as I sat surrounded by a room full of seemingly stress-free people laughing and enjoying themselves while I was ready to bolt. I was with friends I’ve known for years and I was freaking out, convinced everyone knew something was wrong.
There I was, not only stressing over life in general but stressing over the fact that I was stressing and everyone knew it and they were just waiting for me to explode. I figured I had four choices: I could fake it and try to pretend everything was ok; have a meltdown, which would make us all uncomfortable and solve nothing; I could say I had a headache and go home – after all, everyone leaves their table for one reason or another; or I could face the truth and tell my friends how I was feeling. I chose the last approach. Apprehensively, not knowing how anyone would react, I told my friends I was having a panic attack.
No one had a clue.
What happened next was incredible. By admitting the truth, revealing my fear and vulnerability, everyone embraced me (not physically, of course – that would have been weird) but they all let me know it was ok. Whatever I wanted to do was ok. And more important than anything else, they did not judge me.
I chose to stay. Immediately, Karen reached into her purse, handed me the business card of her psychologist and said “Call her”. Lily then told me she also went to the same psychologist and quietly poured out her heart to me, unburdening herself while simultaneously letting me know I wasn’t alone. I was so engrossed in what Lily was telling me, I didn’t even realize my anxiety had passed. I had eaten my dinner and people were ordering dessert. The evening actually wasn’t a disaster.
The next day Lily called to check on me. I’ll never forget what she said: “You know, I was sitting next to you and I didn’t notice anything wrong. You looked perfectly fine and if you hadn’t said anything we never would have known.”
That was amazing to me! No one noticed the ticking time bomb at the table.
What a huge eye-opener that was. It made me realize that how I perceive myself is not necessarily how others perceive me. Being stoic and trying to hide my anxiety isn’t helpful; in fact, it could make things worse. Opening myself up and exposing my vulnerability showed me it’s ok to let others know “Hey, I’m freaking out right now and I need help.”
I learned a valuable life lesson that night: Let it out and let someone in.
NAR©2024
This is “Under Pressure” featuring Queen, Annie Lennox and David Bowie
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.
Lucky, Otis, Charlie, Nelson and Lefty
This is Week 41 of Glyn’s Mixed Music Bag and we are
being asked to choose a song by a group or solo artist whose
name begins with the letters S or T. This is my choice.
Bob Dylan, Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty, George Harrison and Roy Orbison. Five musical giants on their own; together, a seemingly unstoppable supergroup. In their all-too-short career together, they created some incredible music, had a great time and brought a lot of joy into our lives.
They are, of course, the beloved American-British group known as the Traveling Wilburys. Formed out of friendship and spontaneity, the Traveling Wilburys would never have referred to themselves as a supergroup. Though comprised of some of the biggest names in modern music, the band was much more nonchalant than that.
It all began in 1988, when George Harrison and co-producer Jeff Lynne were tasked with recording a B-side for George’s Cloud Nine album. In need of a place to record on the fly, the two, along with friends Roy Orbison and Tom Petty, were invited over to Bob Dylan’s home studio. The resulting track was “Handle With Care,” a collaborative effort which was just too good to use as a B-side. George later said, “I liked the song so much and the way that it turned out with all these people on it that I just carried it around in my back pocket for ages thinking, ‘Well, what can I do with this thing?’ And the only thing I could think of to do was to record another nine. Make an album.”
As each member of the Wilburys was busy with their own projects, the five friends found a ten-day time frame in which to write and record an album together. Posing as a band of half-brothers (each with his own Wilbury moniker), the group enlisted Monty Python’s Michael Palin to write a fictional history of the group for the LP’s liner notes. George Harrison was “Nelson Wilbury,” Bob Dylan was “Lucky“, Roy Orbison was “Lefty“, Tom Petty was “Charlie T, Jr.”, and Jeff Lynne was “Otis”. Although not an official member of the Traveling Wilburys, Jim Keltner was the session drummer and percussionist on both their albums and was given the nickname “Buster Sidebury”. Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1 was released in October 1988 to wide critical and commercial acclaim.After hitting #3 on the Billboard Top 200 chart, the certified double platinum album earned a Grammy for Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group.
Sadly, Roy Orbison passed away in December of 1988. The band reunited for one more album, dedicating it to their late friend, and wryly titling the 1990 LP, Traveling Wilburys Vol. 3. In 2007, a retrospective box set, The Traveling Wilburys Collection, was released. Proving the timeless appeal of the Wilburys’ music, the deluxe title hit #1 in six territories and peaked at #9 on the Billboard 200. At the time, The Traveling Wilburys Collection held the record of having the highest debut of a box set in the United States, as well as the biggest first week in sales for a box set in the UK.
The world lost an incredible talent when George Harrison died on November 29, 2001; on October 2, 2017, Tom Petty passed away. Now only Bob Dylan and Jeff Lynne remain. The Wilburys never toured and were only together for a brief, magical time; however, the member’s mutual admiration for each other and genuine joy in the studio still shine through in their recordings.
This is the Wilburys’ largest selling single, “Handle With Care”
One of my favorite Wilburys songs is “The Wilbury Twist“, the final track on their 1990 album Traveling Wilburys Vol. 3. The song was also released in March 1991 as a single from that album and shows off the very humorous side of the group. The original music video featured cameos from many contemporary celebrities including Jimmy Nail, Woody Harrelson, Whoopi Goldberg, Fred Savage, Milli Vanilli, Cheech Marin, John Candy, Eric Idle. and others. The band and special cameos were filmed at the Wilshire Ebell Theatre in Los Angeles.
Here is “The Wilbury Twist”
For my last song, I’ve chosen the one that is probably the best known. The video was filmed in Los Angeles in December 1988. Set in a moving passenger car pulled by a steam locomotive, it features the guys playing guitars and Jim Keltner playing the brushes. Roy Orbison had died after recording his vocals but before the video was made, so a shot of a guitar sitting in a rocking chair and a photo of him are shown when his vocals are heard. In the US, the single peaked at #63 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and at #2 on the Album Rock Tracks chart. In the UK, the single peaked at #52 on the UK Singles Chart.
This is “End of the Line”
Big thanks to Glyn for hosting Mixed Music Bag every week. Please be sure to follow the link and check out Glyn’s site.
Thanks for joining me today and spinning some tunes.
See you on the flip side. 😎
NAR©2024
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.
Remembering Roberta
Written for Song Lyric Sunday. This week Jim Adams has asked his
readers to choose a song that makes them think about life. Here’s mine.
To talk about my featured song, I first need to tell you about my friend, Roberta. She and I had been friends since our sons attended nursery school together, some 44 years ago. Even back then in her early 30s, Roberta had a shock of gorgeous silver-white hair that was always perfectly yet casually coiffed. Just like my grandmother, Roberta’s hair color changed when she was in her 20s and I never saw her with a different color or style.
Roberta’s laugh was one of a kind …. some might call it a cackle …. and you heard her long before you saw her! She rarely took life too seriously and was very forthcoming with her opinions, whether you wanted to hear them or not. I guess you could call her a ‘free spirit’; she lived very much in the moment, often arriving late for appointments because she ran into someone who needed a friend to talk to.
There was never any doubt where you stood with Roberta. If she was pissed off about something, you knew it. She’d speak her mind, clear the air and never mention the issue again. Done and forgotten. But not just forgotten …. forgiven as well. She didn’t hold a grudge; I always thought that was an admirable trait. And she didn’t lie. If anything, she was too honest and her ‘bluntness’ could turn people off. She really didn’t care what people thought about her; life was not a popularity contest. As I said, people always knew exactly how Roberta felt.
She was a devout Catholic, attending Mass every weekend, but she was never showy about it. Roberta and her husband Martin were in charge of the church’s food pantry …. collecting food for families in need …. and not just during the holidays or when a crisis hit but every day of the year …. however, the holidays were very important to Roberta, especially Christmas. That was when she amped up the drive for food, clothes and gifts for needy families in the area, especially the children. In all the years I knew Roberta, I don’t remember anyone else heading up the food pantry except her. She and Martin were special people, far from saints but doing God’s work in an unassuming way.
It came as a terrible blow to everyone when Roberta became dangerously ill almost overnight in August 2014 and was diagnosed with West Nile Virus (for which there is no vaccine or cure although most people recover with proper care). Roberta had an extremely virulent case and within days she lapsed into a coma and never regained consciousness. At one point, she was the only documented case of “death by West Nile Virus” in Westchester County, NY.
The day I visited Roberta at the nursing home was one I will never forget. Had it not been for her name on the door and her glorious mane of white hair, I would not have recognized my longtime friend; the virus left her body terribly swollen, facial features almost fused together. I sat by her bedside, held her hand and sang a song I had sung many times before. And as I sang to my friend, I saw her eyelid barely flutter and her finger quiver ever so slightly and no one will ever convince me that she was unaware of my presence. Four months later, during Christmas week, Roberta died. It was the perfect time for her to take her leave.
The song I sang to my friend that day in the nursing home was “What A Wonderful World”.
According to Wikipedia, “What A Wonderful World” was written by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss. It was first recorded by Louis Armstrong and released as a single in 1967. In April 1968, it topped the pop chart in the UK but performed poorly in the United States because the president of ABC Records disliked the song’s arrangement and refused to promote it. (There’s more on Wiki about that and it’s pretty interesting.) After the song was heard in the 1987 film Good Morning, Vietnam, it was reissued as a single in 1988 and rose to #32 on the Billboard Hot 100. Louis Armstrong’s recording was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999.
Every time I hear this song, I remember Roberta and our last visit together. This is “What A Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong.
LYRICS
I see trees of green
Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed day
The dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces
Of people going by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying
I love you
I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more
Than I’ll ever know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Ooh, yes
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: George David Weiss/Robert Thiele
What a Wonderful World lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Concord Music Publishing LLC, Kanjian Music, Tratore
Big thanks to Jim Adams for hosting another great Song Lyric Sunday this week. Be sure to follow the link and check out Jim’s site.
Thanks for stopping by. See you on the flip side. 😎
NAR©2024
All text, graphics and videos are 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.
Just A Part Of Life
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle
has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration
to get creative in 100 words or less, making
every word count. Here’s my flash.
Jenny looked around the no-frills room which was now her home. A shy girl, she’d never spent a single night away from home; now she was half-way across the country at an unfamiliar university with thousands of nameless faces.
At first she didn’t want her parents’ help moving but at the last minute she relented. They were on their way home now and all Jenny wanted was to grab her phone and beg them to come back and take her home.
The sound of girl’s excited laughter echoed in the hall; Jenny peeked out and someone happily waved her over.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is “What Is Life” by George Harrison
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.
It’s Time
Well, kids, the possibility has become a reality. First thing this morning I will be having back surgery. It’s time; I can’t put it off any longer. Hopefully it won’t be too much of an ordeal but one never knows with these things. I’ll be off WordPress while I recuperate. Comments on this post have been disabled simply because I won’t be able to respond to them as quickly as I’d like and I apologize for that. I’m sure you understand.
That’s the story, my friends. See you on the flip side. 😎
Best always
~ Nancy
This is the R.E.M. song “Everybody Hurts” performed by Joe Cocker.
LYRICS
When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you’re sure you’ve had enough
Of this life, well hang on
Don’t let yourself go
‘Cause everybody cries
Everybody hurts sometimes
Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go (hold on)
If you think you’ve had too much
Of this life, well hang on
‘Cause everybody hurts
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts
Don’t throw your hand, oh no
Don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone
No, no, no, you are not alone
If you’re on your own in this life
The days and nights are long
When you think you’ve had too much
Of this life to hang on
Well, everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody cries
Everybody hurts, sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes
So hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Peter Lawrence Buck/Michael E. Mills/William Thomas Berry/John Michael Stipe
Everybody Hurts lyrics © Night Garden Music
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.
Calm and Choppy Waters
Written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday
where the theme is ‘ship’. This is my stream.
Sometimes in life you make a connection with another person and you know right away it’s special. That happened to me 40 years ago on the day we moved into our new house.
We weren’t moving very far – just about a quarter mile from where we were living. That’s the wonderful thing about this little town; no one wants to leave! It’s quaint, friendly, clean and quiet with it’s beautiful harbor full of ships bobbing peacefully on small waves.
Moving day arrived and the crew was busy getting our boxes loaded for shipping to the new house. My husband stayed behind making sure all went smoothly while I headed over to the new house with our two small sons to wait for the moving vans.
We were sitting on the floor of our empty house playing a game when someone knocked on the door. It was our new neighbor, Debby, who came over to introduce herself. When she saw us sitting on the floor, she insisted we go over to her place which was right next door. When I explained that I was waiting for the moving vans to arrive, Debby said I’d have a clear view of my house from her comfortable sofa. I didn’t need any more convincing and agreed to go over.
When we walked into Debby’s house, the first thing I noticed were the numerous framed photos of large fishing ships, most of them with her husband grinning and displaying a huge fish. I thought how nice it would be for my husband to have a fellow fisherman living next door.
Debby and I started talking and it was as easy and natural as rain. We had so much in common, it felt like we’d known each other all our lives. She also had two young sons and my boys had instant friends. We talked non-stop while I waited for the movers to show up; by the time the vans arrived, a great friendship had been formed and is still going strong. We’ve been through bad hair days, secrets, laughs, tears, vacations, runs to the emergency room, weddings, flooded basements, missing cats, birthdays, Covid, lots of wine, illness, school fairs, Christmases and devastating deaths.
It’s so nice when you have neighbors you get along with; it’s priceless when you have a great relationship like mine and Debby’s. We’re very close and so much alike, people think we’re sisters. If I need to cry or share a laugh, Deb’s the first one I call. The same is true for her. We are each others best friend, two women lucky to have this amazing “soulship” to carry us through the calm and choppy waters of life.
NAR©2024
This is “Wooden Ships” by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
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.
Kathmandu Déjà Vu
The other day I got some news that threw me for a loop;
I felt like a headless chicken running ‘round the chicken coop.
You see, I met this awesome guy who made me lose my mind.
A handsome man so witty and sexy can be awful hard to find.
We both had friends from childhood days who knew us very well.
They figured if we two hooked up we’d get along rather swell.
My friend called me and his called him and we agreed on a date
To meet at Charlie’s Ribs and Ale next Friday night at eight.
Well, I was pretty keen on the idea of meeting someone new;
The last few dates I had were dull as hell and that would never do
See, I’m the kind of girl who likes to go out and have some fun.
An hour or two with some boring dude would have me on the run.
I’m really not high maintenance, I just need some stimulation;
The kind that gets my juices flowing and speeds up my circulation.
I know you know what I’m referring to; I can see it in your eyes.
I want a man who knows what’s what, the hows, the whens and whys.
So, there we were at Charlie’s, just waiting for our dates
When in walked these two cool guys and I could barely wait.
They came straight to our table and I knew right off the bat
This blue-eyed, bearded devil was a curious kind of cat.
He looked at me and I at him and our eyebrows began to rise
When we thought perhaps we knew each other almost all our lives.
We’d no idea that this blind date would not be so blind at all
For although we thought we knew each other we couldn’t quite recall.
In fact, we never took the time to even learn each other’s names.
Our paths crossed countless times before as kids playing kiddie games.
Yes, we were nameless friends in school in days from way back when.
We went to games and dances, seeing each other now and then.
We attended the same schools where we learned a thing or two
But we never said “Hey, what’s your name? I think I may know you!”
Now here we were having fun, hitting it off like two peas in a pod;
But the strange feeling that we knew each other was really very odd.
The night flew by, we ate and drank; this guy could talk the talk
And deep inside my womanly mind I knew he could walk the walk.
So, I took a wild chance and asked him to come back to my place;
He looked at me, eyes twinkling and a roguish grin upon his face.
We tried to act all nonchalant, no need to rush the night.
He said he was a poet; I said “No kidding? I like to write!”
We sat real close on my old couch and he said “Tell me, what’s your sign?”
I turned to him, said “Pisces” and he said “Yeah? That’s the same as mine!”
He wove his fingers through my hair and slowly pulled back my head.
I opened my mouth and licked my lips saying “Take me to my bed.”
We started slow, real nice and easy, just feeling each other out
But it didn’t take long before both of us were doing the ‘Twist and Shout’.
This went on the whole night long; he was quite the voracious lad.
I was his match and he was mine and none of it was bad.
We spent the next few days together; we got along really great.
He told me his name was Kevin and I told him my name was Kate.
He said he lived in Baltimore now but was born in Kathmandu.
His eyes nearly popped out his head when I said “What!? Me too!”
Things were really getting eerie now; we both knew this was bizarre
Especially when we simultaneously said “On March 10th in Paropakar!”
Now hold on, wait just a damn minute; how could this possibly be?
We were born in the same hospital on the same day in 1993!
Our piercing eyes stared at each other as we silently sipped our tea.
Who was going to ask the next question? Was it me or possibly he?
I grabbed the bull by the horns and asked him “What’s your mom’s name?”
He lowered his cup rather slowly and replied “Why, it’s Germaine.”
I heaved an enormous sigh of relief which proved to be premature
Cos he was adopted, his birth mom was Faye, of that he was quite sure.
I bolted straight upright and nearly fainted as I screamed “No way!“
For you see, I was adopted, too, and my birth mom’s name was Faye!
Now this is no laughing matter, for I’d just had me a night like no other
With a guy who was to my dismay my long-lost fraternal twin brother!
NAR © 2024
Orig. written 2021
This is “Ain’t That A Kick In The Head” by Dean Martin
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.
Some Kind Of Innocence
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
encouraged to write creatively in 250 words or less
using the photo below as inspiration. Here’s my story.
“No! Didn’t do it!” wailed Robbie, the dishwasher at Michael’s.
The waitstaff ran into the kitchen when they heard the crash. Shattered crystal covered the kitchen floor …. the new glasses for the lounge’s grand opening.
Robbie huddled in the corner like a little boy, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve. He was a 32 year old man with the mind of an eight year old, courtesy of that one decisive extra chromosome …. a little thing called Down Syndrome. Robbie’s brother Gary, the maître d’, crouched next to him while everyone stood in awkward silence.
“Robbie, accidents happen” Gary said calmly. “C’mon now. Everyone will pitch in.”
The crew began sweeping up …. everyone except Vic, the bartender.
“Not me. I ain’t helpin’!” snarled Vic. “It was that moron’s fault. He shouldn’t be around normal people!”
Michael Banks, the lounge owner, stormed into the kitchen. “What the hell’s going on?!” Slowly he looked around, taking in the whole scene, then asked everyone to leave except Robbie, Gary and Vic.
“Robbie, it’s ok” Michael said. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
Robbie sniffled. “I saw the boxes but I didn’t touch them, cross my heart and hope to die. Vic rushed in the back door and pushed me into the boxes.”
“You lyin’ freak!” sneered Vic. “Look, Mr. B. I’m tellin’ ya I didn’t do nothing. Who ya gonna believe – that retard or me?”
“That’s enough! It’s over!” Michael barked. “Grab a broom. We’re opening tonight on schedule.”
NAR©2024
250 Words
This is “Hey Bulldog” by the Beatles
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.
Forever Home
Sadje is asking us What Do You See – #241
Here is my response.
It’s 8AM at the humane society and all the residents are enjoying their freshly cleaned digs, and that means nice crisp newspapers lining the floor, just in case. Accidents happen, you know!
Today they’re in for a special treat; the papers are opened to the birth announcements page!
All the pups are besotted by the photo of a beautiful baby with big blue eyes. Sure looks like a playful and happy little tyke! They stare longingly at the baby’s photo, wistfully talking among themselves about the greatest thing that could happen to them, the one thing that would change their lonely doggie lives …. to be adopted and to find themselves in a new forever home with a special friend to play with and grow up with …. just like this little guy.
“It sure would be swell, wouldn’t it?” they ask each other, visions of blankets, chew toys and bouncy rubber balls swirling in their heads. “Maybe today will be our lucky day!”
At 9AM the humane society opens its doors to the public and a few families start streaming in. Most of the parents are being tugged by eager kids hoping to find a best friend to share their home and their lives. Everyone is optimistic and excited.
Today is a big day …. maybe it will be their lucky day!
NAR©2024
#WDYS
Shelter dogs react to being adopted. Don’t shop …. adopt!
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.
The Ambush
Otis sensed it before Sam even heard it – tires crunching through the snow slowly approaching the diner’s driveway. The black lab growled, knowing instinctively it wasn’t Deb and the kids; it was much too early. They weren’t due back until around 10:00. Besides, Otis would have recognized the sound of Deb’s Jeep.
But there was one definitive reason why Otis knew it wasn’t Deb and the kids returning from their ski trip; Deb never drove in the dark with her lights off.
The instant Sam heard the vehicle, a knot started forming in his gut. “It’s ok, boy” he whispered soothingly to Otis while reaching for the service revolver he kept hidden in the cupboard and slipped it into the pocket of his Washington Wizards sweatshirt. Sam squinted in the darkness at the LED clock on the diner’s microwave – 5:10AM – too early, even for diehard customers. Tapping at his other pocket, Sam was reassured knowing his cell phone was there.
Careful not to knock over anything that would make noise, Sam quickly strode to the window and with one finger eased back the curtain ever so slightly. In the bleak pre-dawn hours he could barely make out the shape of a hulking SUV parked outside the diner. This was not just a business to Sam and Deb; the spacious second floor was home to them and their kids. If anyone tried to break in or cause harm, Sam took it very personally.
Otis growled again; Sam hushed the skittish dog and together they crept back to the counter and slid behind it. Sam fingered the gun in his pocket; he was ready if it came to that.
Footsteps on the front stairs were followed by a quick rap on the window. Otis was more nervous than ever and Sam spoke softly to him while slipping him a treat to keep him quiet. One more rap on the window, then the front door handle jiggled. Then jiggled again, this time with attitude. Sam decided he needed to go on the offensive.
“We’re closed” he called out. “If you need help, the police station’s just down the road. I can call them.”
“No need for that, champ” came a voice from the other side of the door. “I just ended my shift there. Saw a car leaving your parking lot and wanted to make sure everything was ok.”
“Thanks, we’re fine.” Sam replied through the door. Something about the way this guy said “champ” made the hair on his arms stand up.
“Hey, it’s my job. I’d feel better if you let me take a look around” declared the guy outside.
“And I’d feel better if you showed me some I.D. Just slip it under the door.”
“No problem, champ.” A shiny laminated wallet-size rectangle slid across the floor.
Glancing to make sure the deadbolt on the front door was secure, Sam quickly retrieved the card and checked it out in the glow of his cell. The I.D. confirmed the guy was a trooper and the photo staring back proved what Sam feared – this guy was no stranger.
“Son of a bitch! Dan McGinty!”
The same Dan McGinty from New York. Sam could never forget his brother officer from their days in the NYPD. A dirty cop, that piece of scum almost got Sam and his partner Frank killed in an ambush. Their testimony at Dan’s trial helped get a conviction but Frank would never walk again. What was McGinty doing out of jail and out here in the boonies? How the hell did he ever land a job as a state trooper? Sam had a really bad feeling about this.
Otis sprang to his feet, jolting Sam out of his momentary reverie. The black lab stared in the direction of the kitchen and growled loudly. And Sam knew. In the stillness of the early morning he heard that familiar voice behind him.
“Hey, champ. Been a real long time.”
It was the last thing Sam heard before the room went black.
NAR©2024
This is “The Messiah Will Come Again” by Roy Buchanan
All text, graphics and videos are 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.
With A Full Heart
Sincere thanks to all my dear WordPress friends for stopping by to read my April 2 post about the death of my brother-in-law, Jim …. my husband Bill’s twin brother. Thank you especially to those who took a moment to leave words of comfort; that simple act on your part has truly touched me and helped both Bill and me to cope with this tremendous loss. I see how many of you care and my heart is full of gratitude and love. I’m sure you realize why I have been absent from WordPress until now and I know you understand why I have not commented on any of your sites in recent days. It all feels so strangely surreal to us. Things here at home are beginning to settle down and we are now trying to adjust to the new normal in our lives …. a world without Jim. Bill is also grateful to you all for taking the time to share our grief. I will return to posting tomorrow. Thank you, my friends. 🩶 🕊️
~ Nancy
This is “The Art Of Dying” by George Harrison
“For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.” – Kahlil Gibran
Park Avenue
Our delightful host Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
has offered this challenge: to write creatively in
100 words or less in response to this photo.
Here is my story in 100 words.
Each morning they would incline their respective hospital beds, draw back their curtains an inch and raise binoculars to their eyes. They would wave, smile radiantly and lift a hand-written note which read “Wanna blow this joint?”
A different note followed at noon and 9PM. And they’d laugh!
They found each other by accident, two teenage girls occupying apartments diagonally across Park Avenue. Each was bedridden with the ubiquitous daily flow of boring people in and out of their rooms …. parents, nurses, doctors.
It was indescribably joyful to have a secret friend.
These were the highlights of their days.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is Bette Midler with “Friends”
All text, graphics and videos are 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.
Life Pages ~ A Senryu
Life is strange –
One minute you’re thick as thieves
The next, you’re dismissed
NAR©2024
This is the Moody Blues with “Isn’t Life Strange”
All text, graphics and videos are 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.
Capadoste
Denise at GirlieOnThe Edge has challenged us
to write a Six Sentence Story using the word ‘game’.
In six sentences, this is my response to that challenge
If you’re wondering what “capadoste” means, it’s Italian slang for thickheaded” and all will be revealed as I continue with my store which goes like this: A while back …. and by “a while” I’m guessing close to 56 years now …. my husband (who was my boyfriend at the time) and I would get together most Friday nights with our friends at somebody or other’s house where we’d do a whole bunch of nothing, like sitting around watching TV, playing cards, shooting the breeze, listening to music, smoking and drinking.
Now, before we go any further, I need to emphasize the fact that I’m a lousy drinker and it doesn’t take more than one drink to get me tipsy, something I was well aware of but joined in the fun anyway because I didn’t want to be a ‘party pooper’; it was guaranteed that any night out that involved drinking always ended with me puking my guts out on the way home, Bill walking me to the front door where my father would be waiting up for me, saying goodnight then collapsing in my bed while my room whirled around like a spinning wheel.
Well, as you can imaging, these get-togethers with friends started getting old pretty fast until somebody mentioned a new game he played recently and asked if we wanted to hear about it, which, of course, we did; some of you out there in “Reader Land” may already be familiar with this pastime with playing pieces consisting of nothing more than a glass, paper napkins, a rubber band and a dime …. “The Dime Game”!
The game was really easy, anyone could play it, we all did and the rules went like this: drape a paper napkin over an empty glass, securing it in place with a rubber band, then place the dime in the very center of the napkin (couldn’t be simpler, really, but that’s just the set up) …. playing the game was significantly more difficult.
Since everyone smoked something or other back then, the idea was to take your lit whatever, burn a hole on the top surface of the napkin (praying it would stay small and not ignite the entire napkin), then the next player does the same thing; the goal of the game was to keep the napkin as intact as possible without the dime falling into the glass which resulted in the person who made the dime fall having to chug a shot glass of whatever libation was being served that night (and it wasn’t alcohol-free) so you know what that meant for me!
As a lover of board games, card games and party games, I was a total sucker for “The Dime Game” and like the idiot I was, I played every time, got sloshed after two shots and was done for while everyone else was having fun; you’d think a lesson like that would have been learned rather quickly and to that I have only one thing to say …. “Capadoste!”
NAR©2024
This is Toby Keith with “I Love This Bar”. RIP, Toby 2/5/24
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.
As He’d Hoped
Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
has challenged us to write a 100-word
story prompted by the photo below.
Incorporating prompts from
Weekly Prompts Wednesday and
FOWC with Fandango,
this is my response to Rochelle’s challenge.
How many years does someone need to spend in a loveless marriage before the word divorce is mentioned?
That was Barbara’s regrettable life. When her husband finally approached her, she didn’t hesitate; she knew she couldn’t love him as he’d hoped.
Their split was swift and formal.
Now Barbara walked out of the Prada shop in Salamanca and, with thrilling expectation, waved when she saw Evelyn across the street.
Their pace quickened and they embraced passionately, unafraid and unashamed to show their love for each other.
They walked off, hand in hand, toward a romantic outdoor café.
Happy at last.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is Elbow with “Grounds For Divorce”
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.
LIFE IS STRANGE
This weekend our challenge was
to write a poem or a piece of prose
in exactly 21 words using the word “ocean”.
Here’s mine.
AI © Misky
Life is strange.
I’ve lived years on
one continent
only to find a friend
across the ocean
who became
my sister.
NAR © 2023
21 Words
This is Lucy and Ethel singing “Friendship”
And from the 1954 movie “White Christmas”, this is Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen singing “Sisters” (co-stars Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye).
LIKE A KNIFE IN THE BACK
The prompt for
Stream of Consciousness Saturday
is to include the words “to me”.
This is my response.
Whenever there’s an upset in my life, I ask myself the same question: “How could this be happening to me again?”
Sometimes I wonder if I’m a total sap to give myself entirely to a friendship and at some point end up getting hurt. I don’t know …. maybe I’m delusional but I expect people to treat me the same as I treat them. Perhaps “expect” is too strong a word; after all, do I really have the right to expect people to behave a certain way just because I think they should?
Someone once told me my expectations are unrealistic and that I can’t “will” someone to act or react a certain way simply because I want them to. Perhaps he was right. I think about his words when I feel hurt or angry.
So, yes, I was hurt once again by a friend going behind my back and lying to me. This leaves me wondering if I bring this sort of behavior on myself or if I’m just unfortunate with some of the friendships I have made?
One thing I simply cannot tolerate is lying. I have a personal pact with myself never to tell lies. I know people lie all the time; is it too much to ask those near and dear not to lie to me?
Writing about this recent hurt is cleansing and I have decided I will put it behind me. What gives me some small amount of satisfaction is the fact that the person who lied to me knows that I know. This friend certainly went to a lot of trouble to cover all the tracks but they weren’t 100% successful. First of all, I am nobody’s fool and I catch on fast. Secondly, when you involve a third party into the plot, things can go horribly wrong very quickly. And last, my friend slipped up by making a comment online which I saw through immediately; as I said, I am nobody’s fool. The plotting and scheming behind my back compounded with the lie is particularly vicious; it was entirely intentional. You can’t get much lower than that.
Well, while I am going through this cleansing period, I am not above admitting that I hope the liar(s) are squirming and feeling guilty about stabbing me in the back. This was a grievous act on their part; could an admission and an apology be on the way?
NAR © 2023
#SoCS
This is “Positively 4th Street” by Dylan
SEETHING MAN
Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
has challenged us once again
with an intriguing photo prompt.
This is my response.
The man stood off to the side, silently watching, seething.
They were neighbors, friends at one time …. brothers, a lifetime ago. When asked to go into business together, he turned his friend down saying it was a foolish venture, throwing good money after bad. He was afraid.
His friend was successful in his business and became wealthy beyond measure while his own life languished. Jealousy turned to self-pity which morphed into anger and hatred so deep and volatile, his head pounded at the sight of his once friend.
And look at her with that flashy red purse. Disgusting.
NAR © 2023
100 Words
This is “My Brother’s Keeper” by Orphaned Land
The Elephant's Trunk 