It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Ted Strutz.
WC: 109, sorry.
I tried to cut the word count as much as I could, but still went over. This is a real story, non-fiction, from the early 90’s when I was dating my now husband. A night to remember!
It was my first, and only, concert. A birthday gift from boyfriend, now husband. Being short, just shy of five foot, front row, crushed by people. Garth Brooks came out, I cried because I couldn’t see anyone on stage. A security guard I knew from working a different venue saw me, pulled me out of the crush and lifted me to the edge of the stage where there were a few bales of straw for show. I got the best seat in the house that night. It was a dream come true, especially when Mr. Brooks came over to sing just a few feet away. I’ll never forget it!
Authors’ note: A much better week, health wise. Am finally able to eat a meal. Waiting until July for answers is wearing on me, but there’s naught to do about it but pray and leave it in God’s hands. In the meantime, I’m working on a dance shawl to match my dress, have two portrait commissions to complete.