Guitar Practice

 

Copyright – Bjorn Rudberg

 

 

 

 

“Try it again; you’re muting the F note.”

“But dad, it’s too hard, I can’t.”

“Yes you can, Darleen, you know I don’t like it when you say I can’t.”

“But dad.”

“Stop with the buts, try it again.”

“Dad, I can’t do…”

* * *

“What is wrong with you,” Darleen said as she ran out of the room, her dad two steps behind her. In his left hand, he held the neck of a ¾ size classical guitar. Only splinters remained of the guitar’s body and the nylon strings were hanging almost to the floor.

There, Darleen, now it’s a fact… You can’t.

 

---

 

Come on admit it, you think about things like this. You have thoughts of pushing your kid out of his chair when he spits his food on the floor or throwing his favorite toy out the window when he won’t share. It’s funny, as long as you just think about it.

This story was my contribution to Friday Fictioneers. Make sure to stop by and check out stories from other authors.

She Is So Old

Copyright- Alastair Forbes

“Ann, Ann, did your great aunt die last night!” Frank shouted to his wife.

“No, at least I don’t think so. Why, did you hear something? Oh, I better call someone,” she replied in a troubled voice.

Frank was sitting down at the computer again, practically drooling on himself. He did not notice Ann looking for her phone. She was nearly in tears at this point. Ann had spent a lot of time with her great aunt when she was little. Aunt Clair was almost ninety now but the thought of anyone dying upset Ann.

“Where is my phone?” she screamed, hysterical now.

“What are you freaking out about?” Frank asked.

“You’re the one talking about my aunt dying, what do you think.”

“Wait, did she die?” Frank asked

“I don’t know, I can’t find my phone. Why did you ask me if she died?”

“Because we are in her will. Look, I just read the headlines, Richard Branson finally did it, we can go to outer space. All we need is $200,000 each, we will get at least that when that ol bag finally cr…”

“I hate you! You are such an ass!”

 

The story above represents my entry into Alastair’s Sunday Photo Fiction.

If you enjoyed this story check out my other funny stories.

The Blood of Remorse

 

copyright-Kent Bonham

A disturbing murder case was weighing heavily on Jim Delaney’s mind as he walked up his sidewalk.  A sound came from the storage shed. Jim unholstered his pistol, not willing to take any chances after a day like today. He saw movement and instincts took over.

Jim unmasked the bloody body and nearly threw up. Stumbling into the house, he opened a bottle of whiskey. As he drank, he spotted a note:

APRIL FOOLS,
I finally got you! Meet me at Finnegan’s and we’ll get drunk.

Jim’s pistol fired one last shot, leaving the wall stained with the blood of remorse.

 

* * * * * * * * *

The above story is my submission to Friday Fictioneers. For those of you that don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers from around the world who respond to a photo prompt of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields choosing with a story of approximately 100 words. Find more fictioneers here.

Where’s the Pearly Gate

Copyright -Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Isn’t it supposed to be a pearly gate?” Max asked as they approached the door.

“Oh, now you know everything about this journey.” his guardian angel replied; he had become annoyed with Max’s attitude. “Just open the door.”

“Okay,” Max replied, tugging at the door. “Lucifer,” Max yelled with dismay, “But, But…”

“Gabr-, Gab-,” the guardian angel was laughing so hard he couldn’t get the words out. “Gabriel,” he said as the devilish figure tuned into an angel. “Did you see the look on his face?”

“So, I’m not going to hell?”

“Who knows, we still have to get you to judgment.“

This story is my entry into Friday Ficitoneers.

If you got a laugh out of this make sure you share it on Facebook and Twitter below. Also, I have a lot of funny stories on this site and you can check them out here

Bridge to Infinity

Copyright – Adam Ickes

A year ago, twenty-five four year olds started Maestro’s guitar program, now six are alive. Kim Lu pinned a G# instead of a G as she played through the new piece Maestro had given them. Maestro’s right hand was heavier this time. Unconscious, Kim experienced a love that has been absent since her mother was executed. She saw a bridge that appeared to go to infinity. Excitement came over her as she started to move across, feeling free. Terror took control when reality began to tug her back.  She awoke with tears in her eyes and Maestro’s voice ordering one-week starvation.  

This story represents my entry into Friday Fictioneers. Thanks for reading!