Archive | September, 2014

Le Sommelier

24 Sep


Written for: Friday Fictioneers

26 September 2014

Hosted on  September 24, 2014 by rochellewisoff

Copyright - Marie Gail Stratford

Le Sommelier

Albert  has invited a co-worker to his home intending to impress her by preparing a gourmet meal. When his guest arrives he glances over at his german shepherd Marcel. “Go down to the cellar and bring me back a bottle of red.” he tells the dog.

The woman looks amazed a few minutes later when the dog returns with a bottle of wine in his mouth which he lays at his master’s feet. “What an incredibly smart dog!” she says completely awestruck.

“He’s not as smart as you think” replies her host “darn dog can’t tell the difference between a shiraz and a merlot.”




22 Sep

written for:

Sunday Photo Fiction: September 21st 2014

A bubble

a dancer who wore just a bubble

made me forget that I was in deep trouble

her routine well rehearsed

but my fantasy burst

when I noticed her chin had some stubble

Blessed Salts Inc.

18 Sep

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

19 September 2014


Photo copyright: Dawn Q. Landau or even better..Tales From the Motherland Facebook page and give her a “like”


The C.E.O of Blessed Salts Inc. was giving a presentation to his American investors.

“We only hire workers who are over the age of seventy” he said proudly. “In exchange for their labor they are given free room and board in luxury suites. We also supply clothing and all necessities of life.”

“Interesting concept” says the Governor of Vermont “does that keep them from stealing?”

“Unfortunately no” came the answer as a gunshot rang out “if we catch them we shoot them. They are  going to  burden  their families if we fire them. Besides,  the elderly are expendable.”

“Surviving Childhood”

16 Sep

Written for:

Sunday Photo Fiction: September 14th 2014

Rail track taken in colour and adjusted to sepia via the after touch menu on the camera to age the image


Surviving Childhood

My siblings and I were born to a mother who made a tobacco company rich. Pregnancy did not deter her from her favorite pastime,  our infancy  spent in a haze of smoke. When we were kids mom would send my sister and I out for the day. We each carried a sandwich filled with peanut butter and jelly and a mason jar containing koolaid. We never worried about peanut allergies or sugar intake back then. Our days  filled with exploring the woods nearby, nobody feared being kidnapped by sexual deviants, everyone knew who the “creepy” neighbor was and we always avoided him. We played on train tracks that were heavily doused in d.d.t. to keep down the weeds. We pulled chunks off of the salt licks in the farmer’s fields and ate them and played with the mercury we got by breaking open thermometers. We rode our bicycles without helmets, sometimes three to a bike, yet we managed to survive. But now my sister is gone. Not the results of a damaging childhood but at the hand of someone who thought he could drive, eat his lunch, and chat on his cell phone all at the same time. A multitasking God, so to speak. My sister, rest her soul, wiped out by an idiot.

A Reflection On Life..

11 Sep

Written for Friday Fictioneers

12 September 2014

Copyright - Janet Webb

Photo Copyright – Janet Webb

A Reflection On Life..

She walked into her bathroom and locked the door leaving all the pretence behind her. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was pale, the eyes haunted.

Her hospital stay had been a whirlwind of activity. The day of her surgery a haze of medications and questions. Always questions. How do you feel? Do you want to talk about it?

She slowly unbuttoned her blouse revealing the bandage beneath. With trembling hands and heavy heart she unwound the gauze and stared at what remained of her femininity. It’s just a’s just a breast


4 Sep

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

5 September 2014




Juju wanted to treat his American neighbors to an authentic cookout from his homeland. He spent several hours preparing the meat, wrapping it tightly in water saturated banana leaves. After digging a pit in the sand he carefully placed the package inside then built a roaring fire just above it. After waiting patiently for the fire to die down, the meat was removed and sliced into paper-thin strips and served with a hot dipping sauce.

How delicious! they raved

Succulent!  others agreed

Did you say wild boar? asked another

Juju shook his head no..

I said wild Boris..he used to be my mailman.


Bitter Pills

3 Sep

Written for :

Light and Shade Challenge Monday 1st September 2014

The withered old prune lies on her bed with only her cat Shakespeare for company. The voices of her family laughing and chatting about their day as cutlery makes chinking noises on china, is heard  from the floor below while her tray of food sits untouched.
She can’t say she is not well cared for. A caregiver arrives every day to attend to her needs, and her meals although somewhat bland, are adequate. But damn is she lonely.
Although her door is always open, no one, not even her own daughter, takes the time to stop and chat. They are always too busy with things to do or places to go. Busy, busy, busy…
She  remembers years ago when her daughter was only a child. Such a sickly child at that. Always pulling on her skirts looking for attention.It was so annoying trying to get things done with a toddler constantly demanding something. Thank God they had hired a nanny before she went stark raving mad. As the child had gotten older she had learned that Mommy was a busy lady with work, committees and grown-up things to attend to and had stopped making demands on her time.
You would think that her daughter and son-in-law could show a little more affection now that she is bedridden and in her twilight years, and those grandchildren, cold as fish…