Hello darlings, and welcome to another edition of “Helena stubbornly refuses to write the story everyone else does.”
I saw Koi, and of COURSE I started thinking in a Japanese accent, adding -san to the end of everyone’s name, and the air was full of cherry blossoms and etc….
So then I wiped that right out of my mind. I will leave the tales of honourable men and demure women to other, more interested writers than I. I’m sure there will be some wonderful stories.
Sorry, Doug, I know it’s your picture, and if I were in the mood to tell a serious story, I’m sure it would be lovely inspiration, darling, but instead, I went, well, you’ll just have to read to find out.
It’s Wednesday, and that means it’s time for Friday Fictioneers (it all makes sense if you hover your mouse over —> HERE <—- and left click.) Trust me, everything you need to know will pop up on your screen if you click that blue link. You’ll even find a portal to other stories to read, and really, they’re only 100 words, so it’s not going to cut too much into your twerking and lol-cats time.
My story is also 100 words precisely.
“Fresh fish!” The inmates of Joliet called, welcoming the new arrivals as they were escorted in.
One man in particular caught the attention of Leo Vincini, one-time mob enforcer in Chicago.
“Hey Danny,” Leo asked his cellmate, “Isn’t that Mikey Santone? I thought you said he got whacked.”
“No,” Danny answered. “I said he sleeps with the fishes.”
Leo looked at the other man for clarification, but Danny just smirked
“So what’s he in for?” Leo asked.
“Oh, he got caught with his pants down this time,” Danny replied, “at some rich fella’s Koi pond. Those poor fish must be traumatized.”