Early August in Northwest Arkansas brings with it the annual Tontitown Grape Festival. This year is the 117th celebration of the event which culminates with the crowning of Queen Concordia. Naturally, no such festival would be complete without grape stomping.
“We look for kids who have been circling the midway barefoot for hours, “says winemaker Joseph “Moe” Zaccanti. “A healthy crust of cotton candy between the toes, some caramel apple on the ankle, and a dusting of limestone gravel enhances the flavor and adds body to the wine.”
Mr. Zaccanti, his brother Curly, and cousin Larry Bandini are well known for their line of unique wines, which include; Purple Bunion Lambrusco, Bruised Heel Chianti, and Wrenched Ankle Sauvignon.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the sommelier of 100 word stories, and lover of all things purple (including toes) is Syrah Zinfandel Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Moonbeams danced through intermittent clouds above the scattered trees. Chad, Amy, Mark, and Veronica planned to spend the evening watching a meteor shower on the banks of Wildcat Creek. On the way, they stopped by One-Eyed Jack’s and picked up a quart of double-run moonshine.
The couples lay in the bed of Mark’s truck listening to Van Morrison and passing a mason jar. Clouds obscured any view of meteors, but the liquid corn cast its own sparkle across the celestial canvas.
When the jar ran empty Chad hopped upon the pick-up cab, pulled down his pants and shouted, “Look everybody. It’s the moon over my Amy.”
*This story is also a summer rerun from May 2012.
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
Stories From Within
Finding ways to make words sparkle
This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
All the Blogging That's Fit To Print
AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
A Humor Blog
Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!
An author's perspective of mystery and more.
And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.