Moira has stationed herself seductively on the chaise. The air hinges on love and smokes. It’s his first time. He won’t do anyone but her. Love’s true calling, as they say. “Paint my Love” plays in the background. She is no Mona Lisa, and he no Da Vinci. But the easel and paints are… Read More Paint My Love: #FridayFictioneers #FridayFotoFiction
Love is… The fall colours are surreal. The morning hour hinges on hope, romance and fresh air. Their fingers and hearts intertwined. The reckless, youthful hormones rage a storm outside. The pedestrian looks at them discerningly. “Utterly brash public display of affection. Tch! Tch!” “Love is irrational. Love is unkind. Love… Read More Love is…: #FridayFictioneers #FridayFotoFiction
The stage is on fire, as Jackson Maine belts one score after another. The audience is cheering non-stop, gyrating to the glorious moments. The atmosphere is phenomenally charged. Ally is nervous as hell. It’s her first performance ever, to a packed audience of over ten-thousand. Never in her wildest dreams had she… Read More A Star is Born: #FridayFictioneers #FridayFotoFiction
The beaches are bustling. It’s business as usual. They were shut for two long years, as the pandemic continued to wreck havoc. Things have begun to ease out. People have slowly, but surely mustered the courage to travel and visit public places. The masks are still intact, not so much the social distancing! The crowds… Read More Business as Usual: #FridayFictioneers #FridayFotoFiction
Live Aid Concert, a fund raiser for the Ethiopian famine 13 July, 1985 Wembley Stadium, London Organisers: Bob Geldof and Midge Ure
In Cathy’s kitchenette, the pots and pans, the colanders and rolling pin hang loosely suspended, from a rack on the ceiling. They make for a unique sight, always grabbing eyeballs.
Every time Ma sang Hickory Dickory Dock, I thought of Grandpa’s grand old clock. In my head a gigantic mouse would stealthily climb Grandpa’s clock. It would then twirl around in a tango with the little man playing the drums. Many moons have transcended time and tide. I’m back to Grandpa’s crumbling mansion. Grandpa… Read More Grandpa’s Clock: #FridayFictioneers
Photo Credits: Gah Learner moon boon The Airbnb accommodation is way beyond their expectations. A pristine view, overlooking the stunning Mt. Edna and a radiant moon glistening in all its glory. The fine sheers, and the ornate furniture exude love and warmth. Kaveri lies sprawled on the floral chaise, devouring the new Khaled Hosseini novel.… Read More Moon Boon: #FridayFictioneers
Ivanka’s Land The bus trundles down the countryside, as the mist cloaks itself against the picket fences, partially blurring the view of the ruins and that one odd cottage that stands graciously, in the middle of nowhere. “Stop, please. I need to get off here,” hollers Ivanka from her bus seat. “Here?” says the bus… Read More Ivanka’s Land: #Fiction #FFAW
Buddies in Arms Carla and Susan are kindergarten buddies. Now in their mid- sixties, nothing has changed between them. Not even their penchant for taking long walks, come rain or shine. Carla with her umbrella, Susan in her sun hat; just the way they had been as two gangly teenagers.