Weekend Writing Prompt # 171 Impact
I am finding it very hard to find a job in Milan. I touted my many skills to potential employers. I have mention my ability to design bridges, waterways, cannons, armored vehicles and public buildings. Surely one of those many skills will make an impact on my future.
Perhaps my potential employer has enough candidates better qualified than me. Should I tell him I can also paint.
This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less using the picture prompt below.
My grandmother kept a meticulous record of every family member in her large white bible. Each child’s birthday was recorded in her beautiful handwriting. She lived long enough to record some of their deaths.
Near her death I was sitting beside her as she remembered each one with a special story.
I noticed one entry labeled James that had the same birth and death date. I asked my grandmother about it.
“That was your uncle Jim,” she said crying.
I never knew I had an uncle. “What happened to him,” I asked.
“Your father buried him in the backyard.”
This post is submitted to the Weekend Writing Prompt.
Your artist had a very distinctive style.
You would think that you deserve a much larger showcase.
A small picture frame for a lady with the famous smile.
In a place where legion of foreign tourists used to jostle for elbow space.
“Without music, life would be a mistake.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
The Hat Dance in Ljubljana Slovenia. My wife is in the black hat on the left. She finally gets it right at the end.
Submitted to Three Line Tales.
Laundry room abuse
Whites, darks, but do not forget
Yellow socks and shoes
This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less. My story follows the picture prompt below.
PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Before she was an orphan she was just a normal little girl. She hated the orphanage. Every day was the same. She felt robbed, vulnerable, and utterly alone, even abandoned.
“Get up Norma Jeane,” Sister Mary said. “Breakfast is at 7 in the main dining room and your first class is at seven forty-five.”
“Someday I’ll leave here and become a famous movie star. I’ll live in Hollywood in a big mansion with a famous husband. You just wait and see.”
“You have great dreams Norma Jeane but they will vanish just like a candle in the wind.”
Like a candle in the wind.
This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers where the challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less.
The train whistled two long blasts, a short one and another long blast indicating it was approaching a highway intersection.
The engineer had experiences on shorter trips. Trips from Chicago to St. Louis carrying hogs, cattle, and sugar beets. On these trips there were no toilets. The men didn’t care if they missed the pot. This engineer had to sometimes wait twelve hours unless there was a stop. Air conditioning was an open window.
Along these trips she got to know hobos and some other “unauthorized passengers.” Often these homeless were surprised to see a black woman as an engineer.
It was a hot early morning in Havana.
“Where can I find a ride to the museum?” I asked the young man eating a banana.
He was a chatty young fellow.
He pointed to the taxi he called “Sunshine Yellow.”
