Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers

Starting Over – Friday Fictioneers 17th September, 2020.

Dan couldn’t believe his luck when he spotted an almost new, wooden high chair sitting beside of the road. It had been sent straight from heaven, landing right at his feet. Although a new job would’ve been better, it was still an answer to prayer. He said nothing to Jess, and wrapped it up in a huge, pink bow. Dan didn’t have a TV, and didn’t worry about the news. Never found out what had happened, and how that high chair came to be sitting beside the road. The chair didn’t share its tragic secret either. It was starting over.

….

100 words. This week’s photo prompt has kindly been provided © Roger Bultot

This has been a contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. https://rochellewisoff.com/ Please forgive my clumsy links here. I’ve been forced over to the new block editor and am lost in the undergrowth. I am improving but still have a lot to learn.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Beyond Wisdom… Friday Fictioneers

Grace was longing for a crystal ball. Desperate for clarity, she’d finally decided to see a psychic, even if it was the Devil’s work.  After all, it had to be better than pouring the last remnants of hope down the pokies, especially now her winning streak was gone.

She handed over her last $50.00 note to Madame Sahara Rose. Fingers crossed.  

“You’re going to fly the trapeze and find romance.”

Grace snatched her money back.  That was enough bullshit to bury her alive.

Instead, she accepted the job on board the Ruby Princess. How could a cruise go wrong?

….

99 words Photo thanks to J Hardy Carroll.

For the last year, I’ve been researching WWI and especially the bios of individual soldiers in detail. I’m repeatedly struck by the mix of random chance, good and bad luck and also how our own choices influence our fate in both good and bad ways. I’m also interested in how we can often shoot ourselves in both feet and make matters worse, instead of improving our lot. Over the last period of time, I’ve also notice people say: “It is what it is”, as though there was nothing they or anyone or even God or science could do to improve things. Our fate isn’t etched in stone. We can make better or worse choices and unfortunately this character whose life was already down the toilet, ended up on the cruise ship which spread Covid 19 around Australia. Hopefully, this will be her turning point.

This has bee a contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. https://rochellewisoff.com/ Please forgive my clumsy links here. I’ve been forced over to the new block editor and am lost in the undergrowth.

Best wishes,

Rowena

When to Stop…? Friday Fictioneers.

“You can’t put me in a box,” Ava spat at her mother. “Why can’t you be normal, and not a shrink?”

Ava didn’t want to be seen, let alone analysed, and slammed her door shut.

Sarah stared at the closed door wondering  how her precious, much-loved baby girl had turned into this fragile, self-loathing teen.

Inside, Ava was painting all four walls of her room black, and was thinking about cutting off her tongue, so she’d never have to talk again. Why couldn’t her mother give up, and just let her drown quietly in peace?!

Finally, Sarah made the call.

…..

100 words

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays.

As a mother of a 16 year old son and a 14 year old daughter, I’m well-versed in living with teens, although mine are going quite well atm. Well, at least I think they’re going okay. Our daughter’s madly catching up with all her friends in case we we end up going back into lock down. Sydney and Melbourne have always been rivals, but now more than ever those Victorians can stay South of the border.

I hope you and yours are keeping safe and well.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

The Sponge Cake Queen…Friday Fictioneers.

This year the judging of the Best Sponge Cake at the Royal Sydney Easter Show was breaking with tradition. In addition to the regular judging panel from the Country Women’s Association, Melissa Leong from Masterchef was guest judge. She couldn’t wait to slice into Madge Gerbera’s sponge. She’d won Best in Show for 25 years, and was “the Sponge cake Queen”. However, the knife couldn’t cut through. There was something odd in the middle of the cake. Meanwhile, back home Grandma couldn’t find her teeth. Last seen when she helped herself to the mix. Humph! This was a truly unforgettable sponge.

…..

100 words

Ever since I was a small child, I’ve had an acute phobia of false teeth. So, while for some finding a rodent of any description in their cake would give them the horrors, for me, it would be a set of false teeth.

I had actually planned to write about my mother and her sponge cakes. She was the sponge cake Queen of our family and friends and she added a bit of melted butter and warm milk to her sponge cake. She icing them with passionfruit icing, filled them with cream, but also kept a piece plain for my Dad who doesn’t like icing.

The recipe came from a family friend, Val Gerber, who I believe had won at the Brisbane Show and the recipe was printed on the back of the Fielder’s Cornflour as “Val’s Sponge”. I remember meeting Val when I was a little girl out on the farm. We were treated to a very special country afternoon tea where the table almost sank under the weight of all the cakes and treats. Yum!

I hope this story hasn’t made you too hungry!

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Todd Foltz.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

Closing The Curtain…Friday Fictioneers.

James was in trouble. The deafening noises outside were ricocheting inside his head like exploding bullets, driving him mad like an insatiable itch he couldn’t scratch. He knew the volcano was set to explode. Closed the curtains. Clamped his  hands over his ears, and locked himself away in his cupboard. Still, he couldn’t block all the noises out.  A rock smashed through his window, and the sound of exploding glass destroyed what was left of his fragile senses. Sounds, incomprehensible sounds, were all that came out, but there was nothing James could formulate into any kind of message for help.

…….

100 words

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

In my take on this week’s prompt, I decided to reframe the #blacklives matter protests alongside an incredible rescue mission we had here in Australia to find a non-verbal Autistic youth who had been missing in dense bushland in Victoria for two nights. On one hand, you have a loud, demonstrative protest over a despicable act, but on the other, you have someone who is acutely sensitive to noise and is overwrought. As you may be aware, many people on the Autism Spectrum are exceptionally sensitive to loud noises and bright lights and can shut themselves away. However, the rescue team responded with incredible empathy and sensitivity. You can read more about it here: Finding Hope on Mt Disppointment.

Meanwhile, I hope you are all keeping safe and well. We’re coming out of lock down safely here in Australia with only very minimal transmission here. It’s a huge relief.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

Wings of Fate…Friday Fictioneers.

The beginning came perilously close to being the end. In hindsight,  the wings of fate had clearly been hijacked, re-directing them into each others arms as a cruel joke. If “by the light of the silvery moon” Sylvia had kept sleeping through her alarm, she would’ve missed the team-building hot-air balloon ride for work. Then, she’d never have crossed paths with “Early Bird Ed” from accounts. Or, compared the magic sparkle in his irresistible blue eyes to that Byron Bay sunrise. That was the only sunrise they ever saw together. When they filed for divorce, they sighted “irreconcilable body clocks”.

……

100 words

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio.

This story is mostly fiction. However, I’m not a morning person and everything I read about going up in a hot-air balloons, mentions super-early 4.00 am or some other ridiculous time to be there, let alone wake up and I thought of a few couples I know who are like night and day and have incompatible body clocks. It’s a bit of a laugh, with more serious undertones.

I would also like to acknowledge the challenging times we’re living through, and I hope you’re all safe and well. It certainly doesn’t seem to be a time of complacency at the moment. I’m certainly being challenged, because I believe in equality for all, but what does that look like once the rubber hits the road, especially when my health limits the physical action I can take? However, I can write.

Meanwhile with everything going on around the world, we experienced something truly beautiful and life-affirming here in Australia this week where a teenager with non-verbal autism went missing in the bush. It was very challenging to try and find him. The search team went to great lengths to get themselves inside his feet (he doesn’t like wearing shoes) and played his favourite song from Thomas the Tank Engine from search cars etc and encouraged locals to have BBQs so the smell of food would draw him out. So many people wanted to help find him, they were turning them away. There was so much love and understanding for this young man and it was so refreshing. While we still have a long way to go with understanding people with disabilities, this was a significant breakthrough and so encouraging. Here’s a link to the news story: FOUND

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

A Chip Off The Old Block… Friday Fictioneers.

The sea was churning back and forth in George’s stomach. His eyes were turning green, and he didn’t know which way to turn. Whether he could crawl out from beneath the burden of destiny, this pre-ordained future he had no say in. He didn’t want to sit still, drink tea and become a stodgy portrait. Rather, he liked painting rainbows and digging in his veggie patch. Was mesmerised by the magic of watching beans grow. Imagined what it was like to be a tree.  No, when George grows up, he wants to dance and he might even want to sing.

….

100 words.

This story took off with a life of it’s own and I had no intention of writing about little Prince George and his life’s choices. I noticed the chip in the prompt and thought of the number of times I’ve been told that I’m “a chip off the old block”. That I’m very much like my dad. It annoyed me at times, especially when my Dad did his Masters of Creative Writing and pursued a life long goal of writing a book, which as anyone who has been following my blog for more than a week, knows is my goal and I’ve been working hard towards it for the last 10 years. I also look a lot like my Dad, but unlike me, he doesn’t like appearing online and so I can’t share a photo. He’s a mystery man.

I really do feel for people who end up growing up within strong family expectations and shadows and hope they manage to put their own stamp on what they do within those frameworks.

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Inside Outside – Friday Fictioneers.

Dimity was next up, but she just wanted to run.

“Idiot! You absolute idiot! How could you let him talk you into singing THAT song? Raw, red-raw, it was only meant for the shower.”

Delving into the agonizing depths of self-loathing, she’d turned herself so completely inside out, her heart was beating outside her body, and the neurones were spewing out of her head like the guts of a computer.

“It’ll help someone. Save a life,” he said.

Now, she was wondering why she had to sell her soul to save the world? Why couldn’t she just plant a tree?

…..

100 words exactly.

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. Photo prompt © CEAyr.

As a closet musician, I related to this photo prompt of the stage. While naturally rather extroverted, I usually have no qualms about getting up on stage and doing that most dreaded of tasks….public speaking.

However, playing my violin has been a mixed bag and early on, I put myself through the intense stress and madness of doing my Preliminary exam. This is the most basic exam you can undertake, and yet it was much harder than I expected, although I was determined to get an A, not a C-. I remember stressing out so badly on the train on the way to the exam, and being rather hard on myself. Then, I realized I was doing this to myself. No one else had made me do. It’s not like I was a kid and I could blame my mother. Moreover, just to give you a bit of a laugh, you can picture me practicing in the bus shelter out in front of the exam venue trying to warm up my ricketty fingers. The stress was through the roof, but I’ll have you know, I did it. I got my A, and I haven’t done an exam since.

Best wishes,

Rowena.

 

 

An Unlucky Star…Friday Fictioneers.

The doors of Alcatraz slammed shut on Jack’s trip, and the key turned one way and wouldn’t turn back. Indeed, that damned key was jammed in the keyhole. Wouldn’t budge.
Jack was 16 years old and about to launch out of the nest on the school trip of a lifetime… Sydney, Berlin, Munich, Rome, Pompeii., Paris. Then, it all went up in smoke thanks to the coronavirus. Why did it have to happen now? Right at this very moment in time? Gran was right. We were born under an unlucky star.

Now, all he had was his new cap:”Stay Home”.

13th March, 2020

100 Words exactly.

…..

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. This week’s featured image was kindly provided by  © Jan Wayne Fields.

This story is more fact than fiction. Just over a month ago, our son was supposed to be flying out of Sydney’s Kingsford-Smith International Airport bound for Berlin on a school history excursion. It was a strange thing sending him on this trip, because my husband and I haven’t been overseas since our honeymoon almost 20 years ago. Of course, it would’ve been nice to go ourselves. However, sometimes you make those sacrifices as parents, the same way mine have done for me through the years. You’d give your kids the shirt off your back at times. Besides, our son’s been through a lot due to my health most of his life and I sort of viewed this trip as a kind of compensation package. Yet, it wasn’t guilt money. It was a gift straight from the heart, especially for that blond curley-haired 3 years old who saw me looking absolutely wrecked in hospital and asked: “Mummy better?”

I felt absolutely shattered when the trip was cancelled. That this very special treasure we’ve all but handed over to him was smashed to smithereens and destroyed.

That was on the 2nd of March when the NSW Health Department banned all out of state travel due to the coronavirus. It was at least a week before the WHO declared a pandemic, and while we were starting to think that the trip might be cancelled, it still seemed a bit premature when the axe fell. However, their decision was on the money. A day or two later, the coronavirus struck Italy with a vengeance, and the rest as they say, was history. We are very thankful that the trip was cancelled and the group wasn’t overseas when this all happened. Indeed, like the rest of us, he’s had to stay home along with mum, dad and his sister. In many ways, he should be thanking his lucky stars and yet…

I guess there a lot us out there wanting to hit the coronavirus over the head with a baseball bat and put it out of action. You can add us to the list, but our concerns go beyond the loss of his trip. We’re very aware of all the people who’ve lost their lives and the grief of their family and friends. Each and every one was loved and cherished. I have acute lung issues and know many people who are equally vulnerable as well as our seniors. We all keep hoping it will all just blow over, but it seems to have a mind of it’s own.

I hope you and yours are well and safe and please take care.

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long. I started researching my Great Great Uncle’s service in France during WWI and the project snowballed into a pending book (which still has a very long way to go!!)

A Short Victory…Friday Fictioneers.

All James ever wanted was to eat a bowl of ice cream. However, James was severely lactose intolerant and ice cream was forbidden. Now a teenager, he was sick of everyone asking why he he had to have soy milk. Why can’t you have ice cream? What’s wrong with you? To compound his troubles, his mother hovered over him like a hawk. However, she wasn’t going to be at camp, and James had forged her signature on the medical forms. Finally, James indulged in his very first bowl of ice cream. All good until he got stuck on the bus.

….

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. This week’s PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda.

Best wishes,

Rowena