“It’s a magical stairway to the land of Faerie.”

Those moss-covered stones rising steeply up to destinations unknown did look magical, but she never let me take them.

Although she was bent and walked at a snail’s pace, Nana had a bit of magic of her own behind that twinkle in her eye.  The world took on a different tone when I was around her.

I stood looking up those steps, recognizing the street above.

I closed my eyes and remembered them through Nana’s eyes.

I shook my head.  I wouldn’t take that stairway and ruin her illusion. Not today.

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Amanda Forestwood. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

***

I’ve been ultra busy late, so missed last week. I can’t promise I’ll be able to hit everyone’s story this week :( But I’ll try.

“Ack, it’s smoky in here!  Why’d she light a fire in the summer? Where is she?”

“She’s right there, doodling in her journal, as always… Oh.”

“Better writing than talking to that weird old guy, but she isn’t here. Her journal is, though.”

“What are you doing?  That’s her private thoughts!”

“Look at this!  This is just filled with gibberish and senseless scribbles.”

“Hmm, maybe not senseless…”

“This is the last entry. I wonder what it means?”

“Repeat the words the wizard spoke
Grow thin and turn to dusty smoke
Then to their surprise
Up the chimney you will rise”

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Jennifer Pendergastn. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

“I always thought Wile E. Coyote was an underrated artist.”

I laughed.

“No, really.  Not only can the roadrunner enter a tunnel he’s drawn, but a truck can come out.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh at this, so I just studied the mural on the building and nodded.

“Here, look at this one,” she said, pointing to another building.

A deep forest turned into a sky full of geese. 

“Cool painting,” I said.

She smiled, stepped into the mural, and was soon lost in the forest.

That is when I noticed the signature.

“Wile E. Coyote”

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Dale Rogerson. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

The pink clouds of morning were reflected in the millpond smooth water.  An outrigger towed a party boat far out between the islands.

I closed my laptop and moved inland, the conversation flowing through my head.

“All reports are for a major storm.  Satellite shows it will hit soon.”

“You’re crazy, it is a beautiful day.”

“Yes, here and now, but it is coming. This is science.”

He laughed.  “You and your silly Western superstition you call ‘science’. I trust my senses.  Next you’ll say ‘red in the morning…’ Ha!”

The first band moved through, causing the trees to bend.

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Brenda Cox. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

The coffeehouse was crowded for a Wednesday. 

I eyed the empty mic and stool in a corner under the 20-foot-tall windows.

The hot nightspot was in an ancient, converted mill, as was the rest of the pedestrian-only street.  My wife called the music usually heard there “folk for hipsters”.  It had hosted nationally known acts.

The lone stool looked so vulnerable, sitting on its own.  I walked over to it and offered a few words of comfort to the poor piece of furniture.

I sat, picked up my guitar and said, “I wrote a few songs. I hope you enjoy…”

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Lisa Fox. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

Imagine, people have been walking these streets for 8000 years!

+ Not these streets.  The city has been built and rebuilt multiple times in those years.

Sure, but there have been people right here during those years.

+ Here?  The Earth rotates, the sun orbits the galaxy, the galaxy moves, the…

I mean this place on Earth.  It makes you think.  We are just flitting through while people have been here for hundreds of generations.  You seem to have no concept of “Deep Time”.

+ Me?  I talk about billions of years, you talk thousands.

That’s why I hate traveling with an astrophysicist!

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

Edvard had the sound in his head, but how was he to get it onto parchment?  The Norwegian Hardanger fiddle had five resonant strings that gave a sparkle to every note, picking up the harmonics of the melody and amplifying it in a way to create an ethereal fairytale effect.

To ensure he had the sound just right, he invited a group of folk musicians to an early rehearsal of his incidental music for the folktale inspired play.

At the end, a stony-faced man turned to him and said, “It is pretty good, but perhaps a bit fast.”

Edvard smiled.

***

A few comments – the instrument in the photo is a Norwegian Hardanger fiddle. Besides the inlays in the wood, you can see the difference between a violin with all of those tuning pegs – besides the four violin strings, there are four (as in this case) or five resonant strings.

Edvard Grieg was highly influenced by Norwegian folk music. He tried to recreate the sound of traditional instruments, including the Hardanger fiddle. This can really be seen in the incidental music he wrote for the play “Peer Gynt”.

Liszt was a champion of Grieg. One time when they met, Liszt sight played Grieg’s piano concerto, including an on-the-spot transcription of the full orchestra along with the solo piano part! Hint, no other pianist could sight read an orchestral score, and the piano solo on its own was difficult for most pianists. After the applause of Liszt’s small audience died down, Grieg suggested that he had played the first movement a little faster than it should have been…

OK, it took more words to explain the joke than to tell it ;)

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Amanda Forestwood. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

Life has always dealt me a strange card.  In fact, Since I was a child, I suspected that the deck was stacked against me.

No, doctor, I’m not complaining.

It’s just that, every time things start to go my way, I turn over the next card and it is always, ALWAYS, well, you know.  Hint: it is never aces.

Yeah, he caught me again and that is just my luck.  I should have won, but another trick of the cards.

Yes, doctor, I know the routine.  I’ve been here before.

But despite the winged vigilante, I will be free soon…

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Liz Young. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

**

Yes, the title is a play on that Rolling Stones song… And, yes, the MC is a famous cartoon character turned movie star, played by many people from Jack to Heath to Joaquin (another Jack?) (of course, everyone loves Cesar…)

The ally called Meg, or at least the shops called.

Greg said he’d sit for a while in the pub he’d noticed by the docks.

The man with the bottle of whiskey, “Bill” (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) was interesting.  In fact, his tale about Singapore was so enthralling Greg barely noticed the knife fight.

Greg waved off the guy with his offers of drugs and the woman who offered more.

When 8 police-members, guns drawn, arrested “Bill”, Greg figured he’d find Meg.

“You should have come,” Meg said as they ate.  “I wonder what happened to your sense of adventure!”

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ © Rowena Curtin. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.