Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wissof-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – ceayr
Stanislav Dobrovski was a quiet man who never smiled. He used to sit at the same table at the local pub, cradling an obligatory bottle of wine.
Some say he was a sailor afraid of open seas, others say he was a pilot afraid of heights. On one thing they all agree…he was a strange man.
They all remember his last words before he dropped dead under the table.
Sand castles be cursed and damned I destroyed them all with my hand I dug out the hole so grand Under my life made of sand
Another thing they all agree…he was not much of a poet.
Ha.. I have to say the last sentence made me smile… I really liked the mystery of the man.. a sailor afraid of open sea or a pilot who couldn’t cope with heights… I saw him in front of me.
Interesting and funny story, Lore, especially the last line. Poor man. He dies and is only remembered for being a loser, strange, and a poor poet. You painted a vivid word picture of him sitting there then falling under the table dead. 😀 — Suzanne
I love the idea of unsuitable jobs – the pilot afraid of heights. Perhaps too the teacher who hates children, the vet with allergies… Stanislav is an inspiration!
Lore, I agree that the last line was funny, but the poem spoke volumes about his sad life. He may not be a poet, but you have a rare gift, the ability to pen volumes in a few words. Well done!
It was funny and sad… what a way to be remembered.
Now I’ve got the song “I’m an Old Cowhand (From the Rio Grande) in my head…. (cowboy who never saw a cow…. like the pilot afraid of heights… the brain works in mysterious ways…)
Ha.. I have to say the last sentence made me smile… I really liked the mystery of the man.. a sailor afraid of open sea or a pilot who couldn’t cope with heights… I saw him in front of me.
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I am happy it read so real to you. Thank you!
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Dear Loré,
Poor guy, couldn’t win for losing. Your last line left me laughing. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Well, I can be funny from time to time. 🙂 Thank you, Rochelle!
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Interesting and funny story, Lore, especially the last line. Poor man. He dies and is only remembered for being a loser, strange, and a poor poet. You painted a vivid word picture of him sitting there then falling under the table dead. 😀 — Suzanne
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A little bit of dark humor for this week. 🙂 Thank you, Suzanne!
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Loved the wry last line. 🙂
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Thank you, Sandra. 🙂
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I like. Good ending.
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Thank you!
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I agree with Sandra. Excellent last line!
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Thank you! 🙂
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Very well done. I love the contradiction style of description. The last line was absolutely perfect.
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I am so glad to hear that, thank you!
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I laughed at the last line, too, but his life’s tragedy is in his poem. Excellent story.
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Thank you for noticing that.
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That was my impression exactly Gahlearner! Too sad.
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This guy could be a character of Edward Arlington Robinson’s(Richard Cory, Miniver Cheevy)
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Ah, you are too kind.
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Great story!
Everyone indeed is a critic. Poor fellow.
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Poor fellow, indeed. Thank you.
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I love the idea of unsuitable jobs – the pilot afraid of heights. Perhaps too the teacher who hates children, the vet with allergies… Stanislav is an inspiration!
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Now, that would make him happy. 🙂
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Different and funny.
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Tnx for the photo!
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It’s good even up until the last line, then that final sentence takes it up a notch. Nice!
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Glad you liked it, thank you!
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Thanks for the smile 🙂
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You’re welcome!
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Do I dare to disagree with the last line. I think he wasn’t that bad either. It still made me smile though… 😉
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Double compliment, thank you so much. 🙂
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Every pub has someone like that don’t they? Sad really we never get to know the person beyond the rumours.
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So true, we tend to overlook so much.
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Poor Stanislav! There’s always one like him, sitting in the corner by himself.
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Yes, every town has its own Stanislav. Thank you!
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Poor guy doesn’t even get a break in dying! Funny story, well told.
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Thank you, Perry!
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An excellent story, with a wry note of humor at the end. I loved how you had the readers see him through the eyes of the observers in the pub.
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Thank you, it was an interesting process.
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Oh nice take on the prompt. I like the Sand Castles reference. As far as your strange character and his poetry…I don’t know… I’ve heard worse.
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Thank you, Joseph.
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I feel sorry for him – to be so afraid is soul-destroying.
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To lose yourself in your fear…what a terrible way to live.
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Lore, I agree that the last line was funny, but the poem spoke volumes about his sad life. He may not be a poet, but you have a rare gift, the ability to pen volumes in a few words. Well done!
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You are too kind, Linda. Thank you.
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It was funny and sad… what a way to be remembered.
Now I’ve got the song “I’m an Old Cowhand (From the Rio Grande) in my head…. (cowboy who never saw a cow…. like the pilot afraid of heights… the brain works in mysterious ways…)
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I think life is like that, funny and sad. As long as we don’t forget to laugh, we can manage the sad parts.
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I loved every word of it!
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That is such a high compliment, thank you!
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misterisously sad yet at the end I had this 🙂
Very good, great read.
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Thank you, much appreciated!
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Your stories always take me someplace, Loré and this one goes in so many directions! There’s a lot of mystery in this man, with his bottle. Nice job!
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Dawn, you are always welcome to take a seat on my rides. Thank you!
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What a sad, funny story. I’m smiling in a grim kind of way at your poor lost soul whose life, it seems, has amounted to nothing.
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Thank you, Margaret.
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love it! I had to smile at the end though it was a bit macabre of me!! 😀
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Well, that’s how life is. Sometimes all you can do is smile. Glad you liked it.
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