ALFREDO'S - a story in one hundred words

ALFREDO’S

There’s a secret hidden in the side streets of our town, known only to the locals. Tourists are directed to promenade restaurants with music, free entertainment and lights reflected in the night-dark sea.

On rare occasions some will venture further and discover Alfredo’s, where they will be shown to a table outside – only the kitchen is indoors – and given a carafe of local wine. There is no menu. Alfredo serves whatever his sons caught that day – sardines, swordfish, octopus – with salty potatoes, salsa picante and tomato salad.

The alley breeze keeps the diners cool, and if it rains there are Alfredo’s famous umbrellas.

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This week's image - thank you, Dale Rogerson - took me straight back to Tenerife, where there is a restaurant much as I describe here. It is in Los Cristianos, called El Cine, and has been in the same family since the 1970s. We spent many a happy evening there, usually with family or friends. 
Thanks to https://rochellewisoff.com/  for hosting Friday Fictioneers. If you follow the links from her blog you can read how other writers interpreted the image.

I have been busy these past few weeks with a house move, and apart from a prodigious amount of painting still to do, we are settled in comfortably for the duration. ie - until they carry us out! See my previous post for a photo.

FRIDAY MORNING - flash fiction for Good Friday

FRIDAY  MORNING

Last night had been enjoyable despite the threat of discovery – thirteen men breaking bread together and sharing wine. This morning, though, the bread was a hard lump in his stomach, and he could still taste the wine on his tongue, as sour as betrayal.

He stared into the mirror as if seeing a stranger. Was it really necessary to endure today’s horror? 

He got up, feeling far older than his thirty-odd years – what he needed was fresh air. Outside, his friends were waiting, with one notable exception.

“Walk with me,” he commanded, “It will be cool in the Gethsemane garden.”

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Pizza and wine - bread and wine - today's story had to be about Good Friday, the morning after the Passover meal. I think it's safe to assume that Jesus, who was human too, was also scared.

Thanks to Dale Rogerson for the photo prompt, and to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog https://rochellewisoff.com/ .  

Happy Easter to you all, whatever you believe.

SANDCASTLE - flash fiction in 100 words

SANDCASTLE

Kate and Robert stared in dismay at the weather-stained house. It wasn’t the luxurious holiday home of the photographs, but the website had promised unlimited wine, so they ventured inside.

The gate clanged shut like prison doors and the interior was gloomy as a dungeon. Light-bulbs flickered, electric points sparked, and the bed was damp. When they couldn’t even open the cellar door they left to find a hotel.

Unseen, the caretaker watched their departure from a cellar window. The absentee owners hadn’t paid her for years – she wasn’t about to share their vintage wine with any putains Anglais. 

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I had to resort to a dictionary this week, as 16 years of learning and speaking Spanish has buried most of my French!  Thank you to ce.ayr for the photograph and to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers' Flash Fiction each week on her blog  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

An odd thing I have noticed this week - after at least a year of boasting 103 followers - mainly due, I fear, to the A-Z Challenge which I entered for three years - my numbers have suddenly dropped to 95. Should I take this personally or are people simply indulging in an early Spring Clean?

Whatever the reason, thank you for being one of the remaining few. Please leave a comment to let me know you've visited. And no, I will not be entering the A-Z Challenge this year, but I wish the thousands who do the very best of luck.

EL MERCADO DEL AGRICULTOR

Cada sabado, a las ocho de la manana, vamos a San Isidro para comprar nuestros verduras y frutas para la semana al Mercado del Agricultor cerca del autopista. El foto ariba esta desde su calendario de 2012.

Every Saturday, at eight in the morning, we go to San Isidro to buy our vegetables and fruit for the week at the Farmers Market just off the motorway. The above photo is from their 2012 calendar.

Junto al puerta es este puesto de tartas y enpanadas y mucho mas, todo para engordase y delicioso.

Just inside the door is this stall with cakes and pies and much more, all of it fattening and delicious.

Eso es mi marida hablando al propriedor y probando su enpanada de atun.

This is my husband talking to the stall-holder and trying his tuna pie.

En otro lado del columna verde es su mujer con un puesto de salsas y mermeledas. Tiene que probar su salsa piquante.

On the other side of the green pillar is his wife with a stall of sauces and preserves. You must try her spicy sauce.

Hay otros puestos con verduras, frutas y ensalada, todo muy fresco y barato. Esta pareja venden tambien croquetas artesanas de verduras y, a veces, cetas.

There are other stalls with vegetables, fruit and salad, all fresh and cheap. This couple also sell homemade vegetable croquettes and sometimes wild mushrooms.

Puedes comprar tambien el vino de Tenerife, o miel de pais, y frutas como platanos, ciruelas, mangos, sandia, peras, higos, higos picos etc.

You can also buy Tenerife wine, or local honey, and fruit such as bananas, plums, mangoes, watermelon, pears, figs, and cactus fruit.

Y entonces hay queso de cabra, hecho por mano.
Y miel de pais y liquor de miel.
Se abre los sabados y los domingos.
?Que mas quieres?

And then there is hand-made goat cheese.
And local honey and honey liquor.
They open Saturdays and Sundays.
What more do you want?

Two moons?

Two nights ago I was out on the terrace with a glass of wine, and I looked up at the sky, as you do. There were the two bright stars - though the moon wasn't between them like it was a couple of weeks ago. The star on the right looked a bit odd so I squinted at it, and I could have sworn it had two moons of its own!
Could that have been true? My eyesight is atrocious - 10 in one eye and 11 in the other, with incipient cataracts - and it was my third glass of wine.