Written for Muse on Monday where David asks us
to write a story about baking late at night.
Here’s where the prompt took me.
Tag: Funeral
The Vicar
Our gracious host, Rochelle, encourages us
to be creative by writing a story in 100 words
or less using the photo prompt below. This is
Friday Fictioneers. Here’s where the photo took me.
So Very Proper
Written for dVerse Poets Quadrille #231 –
“Making Much Of Poems”. Our host De Jackson
invites us to write a poem in exactly 44 words,
incorporating the word ‘much’ or a form of the word.
This is my quadrille.
The Cruelest Joke
Written for The Unicorn Challenge, where we are asked
to write something creative in 250 words or less
by using the photo below for inspiration.
This is my story.
The moment we stepped out of our car, the temperature felt like it dropped twenty degrees and a cold wind whipped my black-stockinged legs. We cringed at the frigid slap in the face and huddled deeper into our jackets as we climbed the steps to the church.
We found the seats reserved for us …. second pew directly off the center aisle. I clutched my husband’s hand and felt his body quiver as he raggedly exhaled, desperately trying not to cry. The tears would come, but on his terms.
The pews on both sides of the church were filled with people celebrating a life and mourning a loss. Everything leading to this moment had been a maelstrom of emotions; there are very few things that shake us to our core like a sudden death.
A man appeared at our pew; I recognized him as the manager of the funeral home. He spoke softly to my husband and together they started to walk to the back of the church. I looked up at my husband’s face and he gave me a sad smile.
There was a heavy silence in the church, mourners sitting side-by-side lost in a fog of grief. Had someone played us the cruelest joke?
As one, the pallbearers heaved the casket onto their shoulders and the organ began to play. That’s when I saw my husband walking behind his brother’s coffin, our widowed sister-in-law on his arm, and there were tears.
Now we will try to move forward.
NAR©2024
250 Words
This is Al Green with “How Can You Mend A Broken Heart”
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.
Halcyon Days
Written for Friday Fictioneers.
The challenge: to write a story of 100 words or less,
as inspired by the photo prompt below. Here is my story.
After the wake, a few of us went back to our sister-in-law’s house. A question tap-danced in my brain: now that my husband’s brother was dead, was his widow still our sister-in-law or will she eventually be erased from the familial slate, ties severed, connections lost?
The room which they call ‘the office’ was a confusion of books, photo albums and memorabilia piled high like Babel.
Flipping through yellowed snapshots, we spotted her, the widow, in every image …. halcyon days when we all spoke the language of youth and happiness …. and my question was answered.
She is family.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is Jim Capaldi with “Old Photographs”
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.
The Suit
Written for Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge ~ Black
Bill stood at his open closet mumbling and cursing under his breath as he pulled out one pair of pants after the other. He was in a mood that has no definition or perhaps many definitions, none of them good. He was searching for something to wear for the funeral of his twin brother, Jim, who died suddenly on April 2. Had it been anyone else’s funeral, Bill would have just pulled out a suitable pair of pants and a dress shirt, but this was his brother and he said he needed his black suit. He couldn’t find it in the closet and he was getting angry but, of course, the errant suit was not the cause for his consternation. I walked to the closet and spotted the suit immediately. Handing it to Bill, I hugged him and kissed his cheek. As I ironed his shirt I could hear him crying softly. “Why’d you have to go and die, Jim?”
NAR©2024
This is Brooks and Dunn with “Believe”
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.
PAINT IT BLACK
It is raining; Little Joseph, only four years old, is riding in the back of a big black car, his mother Carla by his side, following a long, flower-covered car and Mommy said Daddy’s in that car but Joseph can’t see him.
Their car stops and other cars arrive, depositing crying people dressed in black who follow some men carrying a long black box into a grassy field as Joseph wonders ‘Is this a picnic?’ but then the men lower the box into a large hole in the ground and Mommy tells Joseph to “say goodbye to Daddy.”
Joseph is confused but follows her lead, tossing a flower into the hole and returns to the car where Carla lights a cigarette, smiles and tells Joseph Daddy won’t be coming back; this makes Joseph feel so very sad – he can’t understand why Daddy would leave without saying goodbye – so he looks out the window and waves bye-bye with his little hand.
It is raining again and Joseph wants Mommy to play with him but she says “No … I’m busy on the phone” so little Joseph goes exploring in the cellar where there are lots of boxes … great for climbing and building; Joseph spots a small box among the big ones and decides it’s perfect for the top of his fort and just as he’s placing it on the tippy top, it slips from his hands, scattering torn photos of Daddy and newspaper clippings, too, but he can only read a few words – ‘BOAT’ … ‘LOST’ … ‘ROMANO’ – his surname; Joseph doesn’t understand any of it but he instinctively knows Mommy would be mad at him so he puts the box back where he found it and goes upstairs.
It is still raining but Joseph hears laughter outside and from the window he can see Mommy and a man kissing under a tree; the man takes a suitcase from his car and he and Mommy run to the house, throwing open the door, dripping wet, still laughing and Joseph thinks it’s all very strange for grown-ups to act this way.
Carla looks at Joseph and scolds, “Naughty boy! Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” but Joseph just stands there, looking at them; “Well, silly goose”, purrs Mommy, “Say hello to my friend … he’s your Daddy now.” and they run up the stairs laughing, hugging and kissing, leaving Joseph alone in the hallway so melancholy and wondering if it will ever stop raining.
NAR © 2023
Reprised, reworked and rewritten from a 2018 piece
[because I lost track of time and forgot to write a new one].
It’s a 6, don’t you know! Punctuation be damned!
❤︎
THE FINAL PLAYLIST
Jim at Song Lyric Sunday has asked us today to name a song we’d like to have played at our funeral. Well, I don’t want a funeral – a small gathering after my cremation will suffice – but I’ve always had music in my life so why not in death?
Truth be told, I already have a playlist prepared when I “shuffle off this mortal coil”. It wasn’t easy to choose the songs – not because I was getting verklempt but because there are just too many songs I love. However, there’s one special song that has always meant a great deal to me and it only seems appropriate.
I’m talking about “In My Life” by The Beatles.
The song is said to be based on John Lennon’s life; he wrote most of the lyrics after writing his book “In His Own Write”. The lyrics about friends refer to Stu Sutcliffe, an early Beatle and great friend of John’s who died in 1962, and a school mate named Pete Shotton. John also thought of his Aunt Mimi (who raised him), his wife Cynthia and his mother Julia who in 1958 was knocked down and killed by a car driven by an off-duty policeman.
When The Beatles recorded the song, they left an opening in the middle for the instrumental break. Producer George Martin filled it in by playing a piano solo and speeding up the tape to make it sound like a harpsichord, giving the song a baroque feel and inspiring pop music producers to use harpsichords and other similar instruments in their future arrangements.
“In My Life” is found on The Beatles’ “Rubber Soul” album; it was voted the best song of all time by a panel of songwriters in a 2000 Mojo magazine poll. Rolling Stone magazine ranked “In My Life” number 23 on its 2004 list of “500 Greatest Songs of All Time” as well as fifth on its list of The Beatles’ “100 Greatest Songs”. The song placed second on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation’s “50 Tracks“. According to Acclaimed Music, as of 2020 it was the 194th most celebrated song in popular music history. Judy Collins, Ozzy Osbourne, James Taylor, Johnny Cash, Rod Stewart, Bette Midler, Diana Krall and Boyz II Men are among the many artists who have recorded covers.
“A little piece of artwork” was the way John referred to “In My Life”. I feel the same way; I have a framed copy of the lyrics in my bedroom – see my graphic above. There isn’t one word in that song that does not resonate profoundly with me. The musical accompaniment, in my opinion, could not be a better match. “In My Life” is just one more example of why The Beatles are and always will be the greatest musical group to ever grace this planet.
There’s a good chance you know all the words to this song; I certainly do – they are carved into my heart. I hope whoever is at my celebration of life will sing along with this touching and beautiful song.
NAR © 2023
IN MY LIFE
There are places I’ll remember
All my life though some have changed
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I’ve loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life, I’ll love you more
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life, I’ll love you more.
In my life, I’ll love you more.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Written by: Lennon-McCartney
Recorded: October 18-22, 1965
Producer: George Margin
Engineer: Norman Smith
Released: December 3, 1965 (UK) December 6, 1965 (US)
Available on: Rubber Soul
PERSONNEL –
John Lennon: vocals, rhythm guitar
Paul McCartney: harmony vocals, bass
George Harrison: harmony vocals, lead guitar
Ringo Starr: drums
George Martin: piano, tambourine
PAINT IT BLACK
It is raining. Little Joseph, only four years old, is riding in the back of a big black car, his mother Carla by his side. They are following a long flower-covered car. Mommy said daddy’s in that car but Joseph can’t see him. Their car stops; other cars arrive. Everyone is dressed in black. They’re all crying. Everyone follows some men carrying a long black box into a grassy field. ‘Is this a picnic?’ Joseph wonders. The men lower the box into a large hole in the ground and mommy tells Joseph to “say goodbye to daddy.” He is confused but follows her lead, tossing a flower into the hole. They return to the car. Carla lights a cigarette, smiles and tells Joseph daddy won’t be coming back. Joseph is sad and doesn’t understand why daddy would leave without saying goodbye. Looking out the window he waves bye bye with his little hand.
It is raining .. again. Joseph wants to play with mommy but she says “No .. I’m busy on the phone”. He goes exploring the cellar where there are lots of boxes .. great for climbing and building. Joseph spots a small box among the big ones and decides it’s perfect for the top of his fort. Just as he’s placing it on the tippy top, it slips from his hands, scattering torn photos of daddy. There’s a newspaper clipping, too, but he can only read a few words – ‘BOAT’ .. ‘LOST’ .. and ‘ROMANO’ – his surname. Joseph doesn’t understand any of it but he instinctively knows mommy would be mad at him. He puts the box back where he found it and goes upstairs.
It is raining but Joseph hears laughter outside. From the window he can see mommy and a man kissing under a tree. The man takes a suitcase from his car and he and mommy run to the house. They throw open the door, dripping wet, still laughing. Joseph thinks it’s all very strange for grown ups to act this way. Carla looks at Joseph and scolds, “Naughty boy! Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” But Joseph just stands there, looking at them. “Well, silly goose”, purrs mommy, “say hello to my friend. He’s your daddy now.” Laughing and hugging, they ran up the stairs, leaving Joseph alone in the hallway. Slowly he walks to the window and starts to cry. Will it ever stop raining?
NAR © 2018
The Elephant's Trunk 