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.
Tag: Mistake
A House Is Not A Home
Written for Thursday Inspiration #291 –
“Heartache Tonight”. Here’s my 2¢ worth.
Going To The Mattresses*
Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #381 where
Sammi asks us to use the prompt word “bungle” and
get creative in exactly 41 words. Here’s my flash.
Dio mio! I’m afraid I’ve bungled things quite badly.
While planning the seating arrangement for my son’s wedding, I inadvertently placed Zia Carmella at Table 1 and her sister, Zia Francesca, at Table 2.
An insult! Disgrazia!
This means war!
NAR©2024
41 Words
* In times of war or siege, Italian families would vacate their homes and rent apartments in safer areas. In order to protect themselves they would hire soldiers to sleep on the floor in shifts. The meaning of the phrase “going to the mattresses” symbolizes the association in Italian folk-memory of mattresses with safety in wartime. The phrase wasn’t well known outside the US and Italy prior to the Godfather movies. It was used there, and later in The Sopranos, to mean “preparing for battle”.
When Kay met Michael, scenes from an Italian wedding (Godfather, 1972) featuring Al Martino as Johnny Fontane. This is “I Have But One Heart (O Marenariello)”
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.
Matinee Idol
This is The Unicorn Challenge
where we are asked to be creative
in 250 words or less using this photo
as inspiration. Here is my story.
There was never a time when my father didn’t sport a mustache. A thin, elegant line when he was a young man, a bit more pronounced as he grew older but always neat, always refined.
Dressed in his army uniform, he was every bit the matinee idol and it was obvious why Mom fell for him.
When we visited him in Albany Medical Center the morning of his surgery for multiple aneurisms – both abdominal and aortic – his grey hair was neatly combed, mustache trimmed. He was 82 years old and the doctors gave him a bleak 6% chance of surviving the operation. Yet, survive he did.
My sister’s daughter – my father’s eldest grandchild – gave serious thought to postponing her wedding until my father was stronger. He insisted she “do nothing of the kind”. He told us all, in no uncertain terms, that he would never miss his first grandchild’s wedding …. and he didn’t. Dressed to the nines in his tux and bow tie, perfectly groomed silver mustache, we all held our breath as they walked hand in hand onto the dance floor for what would be their last spin together.
When my dad died, we provided the undertaker with a photo for reference. The inexperienced mortician did a lovely job tending Dad but, looking back and forth from the photo to my father at peace his coffin, the undertaker knew something was amiss.
It was the first time any of us had ever seen Dad without his dashing mustache.
NAR©2024
250 Words
This is “Celluloid Heroes” by the Kinks
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 Elephant's Trunk 