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Posts Tagged ‘Whimsy’


I think that I could most likely write a book over my recent visits, yes more than one, to the local hospital. There were moments of hysterical laughter, with some good natured nurses, aides and Dr.’s. There were moments of sheer terror of all the needles. So far, so good. One day at a time.

The list of things wrong with me kept getting bigger, so did the list of medications and their lovely side effects. Do you remember the lyrics to the song from decades ago entitled “Go Ask Alice?” Same name and performed by Jefferson Airplane. I am reminded of the line, “One pill makes you larger…”

Boy, did it! This one pill gave to me about twenty pounds in a week.

Fat feet and legs

Fat feet and legs

Remember that post I did a while ago and there was that question of “Can you imagine getting sick at the airport and having the terminal Dr. wait on you?” I forgot to include “Why is it that we see Dr.’s that just practice medicine?” I think I met a few that still just practice.

Some of the patients whom I shared the rooms with were great, and others not so. Miss you Janet!

I am now 8 days into radiation, 2 days of chemo, and I think I am pretty good so far. The side effects could be worse, and I knock on wood that are not. While I have wanted to write for this blog, I have had to put it off and have just worked on the Mondays Finish the Story blog.

Arnold said in one of his movies, one of the Terminator movies, “I’ll be back.” I will be with some updates every now and then.

Be well… ^..^

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Today, the start of a work week, is the day that I devote to hosting the Mondays Finish the Story challenge. In the challenge, I ask that you write a story using between 100-150 words and that you use the opening line and the photo prompt to create your story. The opening line of the challenge is not included in the word count. Here is my story with the opening line in bold and italics.

© 2015, Marcy B. Ayanian

© 2015, Marcy B. Ayanian

As her mount shifted uneasily under her, she grasped the brim of her old felt Stetson, gazed upwards and remembered Jean Pierre,” and what a jerk he had been to her. She was not going to forget the lessons she learned while with him.

It was a delicious romance at first, and then at around the three-month mark he began to show his true colors. His biggest problem was alcohol. When cleaning up his house one day, when she asked him where the broom was he replied, “Where did you park it?”

In an alcoholic haze, he would have flashbacks of his ex. Instead of the ex’s face, the visions changed the face to hers. She remembered the morning when she awoke to find him on the couch. He told her that in the middle of the night she had kicked him out of bed telling him, “This is no place for little boys.”

The night that he almost struck her with a chair was the last straw. Jean-Pierre died that night.

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Mondays Finish the Story

I would like to thank my dear friend Marcybee for not only supplying the photo for this week’s challenge, but the opening line as well. If you would care to join in on this challenge, then click HERE!

Thank you dear reader for taking the time out of your busy day to drop on by for a quick read. Be well… ^..^

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Rig - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Rig – Photo by Alastair Forbes

Upon looking at the big rig, the front part of a semi-truck, which is to be the subject of this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction challenge, thoughts brewed through Barb’s mind. “How does this photo inspire me?” A series of questions came to mind.

Why do they call them semi-trucks?

What do they deliver in semi-trucks? Occasional furniture.

What do they call occasional furniture the rest of the time?

Why do we call it a hamburger when it is made of beef?

Can you imagine getting sick at the airport and having the terminal Dr. treat you?

If cannibals ate clowns, would they taste funny?

Aren’t all babies new?

Why do Dr.’s practice medicine?

Looking again at the rig, I realize that for today, this is as good as it gets.

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Thank you Al for the photo and for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. And to you dear reader, I thank you for stopping by today. Be well…. ^..^

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Monday is usually the day that I write a story for the Mondays Finish the Story challenge. Still in recovery, I am a bit late in getting my story in. The challenge, asks that you write a story using between 100-150 words and that you use the opening line and the photo prompt to create your story. The opening line is not part of the word count. Here is my story with the opening line of the challenge in bold and italics.

The Devils Abode - © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

The Devils Abode – © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.” It was a sacred burial site for the Yunki tribe. Years later, the gold miners overtook the area. Recently Smithkin and Kerns, a developer, bought the land.

S&K was putting up a multi-unit condominium. It was a stick building. Framing to the third floor just completed. All burned down. Fire investigators could not explain the cause.

The insurance company paid the developer. Construction began again. Framing went up and the building burned down for the second time. What was uncovered was part of the original Yunki burial ground. Burned bones were found and the only explanation was there was a curse.

The third and last time they tried to build, someone saw a man leaning against the building. He chewed on a toothpick, and was sharply dressed. He did not approve of the building. Flipping the toothpick from his mouth, end over end it went, igniting as it landed.

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I hope that you enjoyed my bit of flash and that you have had a wonderful day.

You too can join in on this challenge by clicking HERE!

Be well! ^..^

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Inside - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Inside – Photo by Alastair Forbes

All it took was a quick stumble. The toe of the left shoe caught on a small piece of uplifted stone. He landed flat on his face. Rolling over, he checked out his ankles and knees. He saw no major cuts or scrapes.

Now what was it that his shoe caught on? There it is. He moved over towards it and noticed that the stone now had a series of spalls. Taking out a wide paintbrush, he started to clear the area. More and more of the pieces splintered away.

He knew he had discovered something significant. He received government funding to continue the project, was able to hire a team to do the archeology, and secure for him a nice place to stay.

While clearing one of the many painted walls, he found himself caught up in the scene that was emerging in front of him. Looking closely it began to move. “How can that be?” he thought.

In a rush and a whirl, Alastair Forbes found himself in the painting, and could hear the echoes of the curse as he and the art became one.

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A huge thanks to Al for the inspiring photo, hosting the challenge, and for taking part in my bit of flash for the Sunday Photo Fiction.

Have an amazing Sunday and be well…. ^..^

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Today’s story is a bit of a grim one for me, but this is what came to mind looking at the lockers in the photo featured for the Friday Fictioneers challenge. Thanks go out to Rochelle for hosting and to Claire Fuller for the photo.

Locker Room - Photo by Claire Fuller

Locker Room – Photo by Claire Fuller

In the locker room, hanging behind the door of locker #6273, was the assault rifle. It was the only one that Johnny Dingo left behind. It was there just in case he needed it.

Wrapped up in loose fitting sweats, he made his way through the crowd at the track meet. Heading towards where the announcer stood, calling the runners for the next race, Johnny slowed as he approached.

Did he really want to do this? Yes. They needed a lesson. No more bullying. Those kids who teased him incessantly for the last 10 years would tease no more.

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You too can join in on this challenge. To link up your story, just click HERE for more information!

Have a great day! Be well… ^..^

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Today, the start of a work week, is the day that I devote to hosting the Mondays Finish the Story challenge. In the challenge, I ask that you write a story using between 100-150 words and that you use the opening line and the photo prompt to create your story. The opening line of the challenge is in bold and italics. Here is my story.

Photo taken of an old photo in 2014 Barbara W. Beacham

Photo taken of an old photo in 2014 Barbara W. Beacham

The family had no idea that little Luigi would grow up to be not only a well known cheese artisan, but also shortest mob boss on record. For years, the kids teased him calling “Gamberetto.”

From outward appearances, Luigi was just a regular guy who had a passion for making string cheese. He had a store on Fordham Road in New York. Cheeses hung from hooks in the window, and the smell of the cheese shop drew people in by droves. Samples were always available to anyone who wandered in.

Where the operations took place was, of course, in the back. Hidden underneath one of the workbenches, if you stepped on a particular brick on the floor of the cheese making area, a door swung open revealing a huge office. This is where Luigi’s conducted the family business. Little did anyone know that the Luigi the Gamberetto, or shrimp, was also the big cheese.

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Mondays Finish the Story

Mondays Finish the Story

I hope that you enjoyed my little bit of flash.😀

You too can take part in this weekly challenge.  Get creative!  I challenge you!  To get to the challenge click HERE!

Thanks for dropping by today and be well… ^..^

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