Written for Sunday Whirl Wordle. Our host is
Brenda Warren; her prompt words for this week are
shown below. Hereβs where the prompts took me.
colony, rattling, still, lose, crunch, life,
fits, hunch, scan, packages, grasping, and chains
π Nancy is a storyteller, music blogger, humorist, poet, curveballer, noir dreamer π
Written for Sunday Whirl Wordle. Our host is
Brenda Warren; her prompt words for this week are
shown below. Hereβs where the prompts took me.
colony, rattling, still, lose, crunch, life,
fits, hunch, scan, packages, grasping, and chains
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.
Written for Six Sentence Story where we are given a word,
in this case ‘lift’, and asked to incorporate it into a story of
no more than six sentences. This is my true story of family.

βMangia il cibo sul tuo piatto, Concetta, o lo mangerai dal pavimentoβ β (βEat the food on your plate, Concetta, or you will eat it off the floor.β)
Without changing her expression or taking her huge brown eyes off her father Domenicoβs face, three year old Concetta picked up a meatball, extended her arm over the side of her highchair and very calmly let it drop to the floor.
Silence.
Everyone sat in suspended animation as Domenico deliberately put down his knife and fork and removed the napkin which was tucked into the neck of his shirt; slowly he stood up, walked behind Concettaβs chair, grabbed the back of her dress and lifted her up.
Holding her feet with his other hand, Domenico lowered Concettaβs face to the floor until her mouth touched the meatball; she tried to turn away, but Domenico pushed her face into the food, forcing her to take the meatball into her mouth, then, satisfied, he sat her back in her highchair, returned to his seat and resumed eating while Concetta languidly chewed what was in her mouth.
Hesitantly, self-consciously, everyone resumed eating and talking except Concettaβs mother Rosa who sat watching her daughter closely; at the end of the meal as the women cleared the table, Rosa placed a napkin over her defiant daughterβs mouth so she could spit out the uneaten meatball and whispered in her ear βMai piΓΉ, Concetta; obbedisci a tuo padre!β β (βNever again, Concetta; obey your father!β)
NARΒ©2024
This is a Sicilian folksong called βMi votu e mi rivotuβ (βI toss and I turnβ)
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantβs Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not for use by anyone without permission. NARΒ©2017-present.