“Nooooo!” he screamed, at the top of his lungs, towards the heavens.
“Stop being so dramatic,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few days.”
Tag Archives: humor
Nooooo!
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged couples, dating, dennis finocchiaro, dependence, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, funny, holiday, humor, kitsch, life, love, overdependent, relationships, romance, vacation, very short story, vss, writing
She sat
She sat on the hardwood floor, looking out the window as if it were television. Two children played…an old woman shook dust from a carpet…a car drove by…a dog sniffed the ground then urinated.
Her cable was out.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged activity, beauty, dennis finocchiaro, dogs, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, funny, humor, kitsch, life, neighbors, people, people watching, relationships, sad, the cable is out, writing
Optimism
If you enjoyed this, it’s available, along with many other similar works, on my Etsy. Wrags Ink. is also coming out with a paperback book collecting my work, so stay tuned for more information on that!
Posted in flash fiction, Typography
Tagged 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, art, beach, beauty, couples, dating, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found art, found photograph, friends, friendship, hipster, holiday, humor, kitsch, life, love, marriage, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, relationships, romance, shore, typewriter, typography, vacation, vintage, writing
The Ghost Train
The dilapidated railroad station, aged after years of disuse, loomed above them like a ghost as they trudged up the hill.
“I always come up here when I want to be alone. You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”
She smiled, a little out of breath from the steep path.
The rusted rails disappeared into surrounding woods as she looked left, then right.
“The tracks are unused now, right?”
“Are you nervous?” he said with a smile. “They’re retired. Look at them.” He kicked a bit of rusted metal off the top. “I doubt they’d be safe run a train over them.”
She took his hand. “Thanks for bringing me here. I know this place means a lot to you. Do you ever go inside?”
“There’s a broken window around back, but it’s pretty dirty in there.”
A sound, far off in the distance, made her look to the right. “What was that?”
“I don’t know, but I hear it all the time.”
“It sounded like-“
“Go on…”
“No, never mind.”
He bent down and put his hand on the track. “Feel it.”
She did as she was told and felt the slight vibration. “What is that?”
“You were going to say it sounded like a train was coming, right?”
She nodded, a little unwillingly.
“I hear it all the time. And after I hear it, I can always feel the tracks vibrating the tiniest bit.”
She quickly removed her hand from the rusted metal. She wiped the brown dust off her hands onto her jeans as he stood back up. She stood as well and watched the tracks coming from the woods to the right, waiting.
“It won’t come,” he said, breaking the silence.
“What won’t?”
“The train.”
She took his hand, and squeezed it tight from fear when they heard the sound again, this time closer. It sounded like the echoes of the horn of a train, but not the actual sound itself. She continued to watch, waiting.
Photograph taken by Nessa Skotnitsky of Ethereal Fine Art and Photography.
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged art, beauty, couples, dating, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, Ethereal Fine Art and Photography, fiction, fine art, flash fiction, friends, friendship, funny, ghost train, ghosts, hipster, horror, humor, kitsch, life, love, Nessa Skotnitsky, old buildings, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, relationships, retro, romance, train station, train tracks, trains, vintage
Dangers of the Ocean
New typography with my brand new (vintage) typewriter! Here’s a few shots of the typewriter, too! Check out my last post for news about my upcoming book, Capturing a Moment, collecting fifty of my works together in one volume! Some are also available on my Etsy for a limited time!
Images of the new typewriter which even types in RED:
Posted in flash fiction, Typography
Tagged 1950s, 1960s, art, beach, beauty, childhood, children, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fear, fiction, flash fiction, found art, found photograph, funny, humor, jumping waves, kitsch, life, ocean, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, retro, shore, stepping on a crab, typography, vintage, writing
My Second Book, Coming Soon!
Coming soon! Wrags Ink., a new publisher in the Philadelphia area, is putting 
out a collection of my typography on vintage photographs! You’ve seen some of them before here and possibly on my Etsy, but this collection has about fifty images and more than half of them have never been seen before! So get ready, readers! My work is also being featured in a few magazines coming out this summer, and I’ll be sure to let you know about that as it comes up!
Also, once the book is out the prices will probably be going up a bit on my Etsy, so if you want any, better get them soon!
Thanks for reading!
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, art, beauty, childhood, children, couples, dating, death, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found art, found photograph, friends, friendship, funny, hipster, horror, humor, kitsch, life, love, marriage, music, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, poetry, reading, records, relationships, retro, romance, sad, typewriter, typography, vintage, writing
Guilty Conscience
“Guilty! Guilty!”
His client jumped a little and then shook uncontrollably in her seat as the lawyer looked over at his pet and said “I really need to get rid of that parrot.”
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged bird, fiction, flash fiction, funny, guilt, guilty, humor, joke, lawyers, parrot, talking bird
Fulfilled Dreams
“When you find all of your dreams fulfilled, it’s time to think up more dreams.”
She looked up at him. “Huh? What’s that from?”
“Me, I guess,” he said with a large, goofy smile. “My dreams are all fulfilled.”
“Really. How so?”
“I have this house I made into a home. My first book is published. And then there’s you. I love going to work most of the time. I am not starving to death, I have my health, you know. My dreams are fulfilled.”
“And?”
“And it’s time for new dreams. Time to start reaching higher.”
“Like…another book?”
“And maybe another girlfriend.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
She threw the copy of ReadyMade she was reading at him but he ducked. “See? Everything’s coming up me right now. You couldn’t even hit me with -”
Another magazine hit him square in the face.
“Nice.”
She smiled. “Gotcha! Don’t be so cocky!”
“Hey, can I help it if I’m happy?”
“I’m glad I’m on that list,” she said, getting up and walking over to the couch.
“That doesn’t mean I want to cuddle.”
“Tough. I came over here to cuddle, and cuddle I will.”
“Fine,” he said in his pretend-frustrated voice. He put his arm around her and pulled her in.
“What’s this you’re working on?” she asked, picking up the notebook he had been writing in.
“Ideas. For my next book.”
“Nice.”
“Like I said, new dreams. Not like my first book is doing well. Even the publisher said it wasn’t selling much. Maybe I can use this to get an agent. Or maybe this is the start of something bigger. It just takes the right person to read it, someone like Chuck Klosterman to tweet it, and next thing I know, it starts selling like crazy.”
“Or?”
“Or nothing. I got a book published. It was one of my dreams. I’m happy. It feels good.”
She dropped the notebook onto the floor and it landed on her crumpled magazine she’d used as a weapon just moments ago.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she said after resting her chin on his shoulder.
He smiled. “See? I’m getting everything I want.”
She got up and threw the magazine at his face again.
Posted in flash fiction, Uncategorized, Zoey and Xander
Tagged couples, dating, dreams, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, found photograph, funny, happiness, happy, hipster, humor, kitsch, my first novel, novel, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, published, reading, ReadyMade, relationships, romance, writing
Setters vs. Pointers?
I stood before the two doors, entrances to the restrooms at a small café known as The White Dog and felt like I was watching a tennis match.
I looked at the left door. Then the right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.
How in the hell was I supposed to know which one was the men’s room?
Both had a painting of a dog.
To my left, a big white dog with brown spots. Pointers, it said. Pointers? That’s probably for the men, right?
The other side a mostly white dog, similar enough to the other that I really couldn’t be sure. Setters, it said. Setters? That’s close enough to sitters, right? And women sit on the toilet no matter what…so…
I had no idea what to do. I could go with my gut since a peeing guy would definitely be considered a pointer. But what if I was wrong? And not only did I go in there, use the bathroom, spot whatever sort of feminine stuff was usually in a bathroom and then as I attempt to discreetly leave find a woman waiting to use it? I’d be so busted!
I checked the lower half of the paintings, hoping for some sort of doggie parts that might answer my question. No luck. I would have to take a chance.
I opened the pointers door and relaxed as I saw that the seat was not down.
Success.
Posted in creative nonfiction, Uncategorized
Tagged confusion, funny, human beings, humor, I have to go to the bathroom, restrooms, silly
I Love Record Store Day
I’d already waited in line for thirty minutes, thinking I would be first if I showed up an hour before the store opened. I was wrong. There were a good number of people ahead and the store was around the corner. But come on, how many could possibly be looking for The Beach Boys’ album, right? I mean, record store day is about the indie music…isn’t it?
The doors opened at ten, a full hour before their usual time, and by eleven I was finally at the door. Eleven fifteen finds me released into the crowded den full of hipsters and gross unshowered balding men with combovers, and as I approached the wall dedicated to record store day releases, I saw the royal blue cover, golden rays shining from the words, The Beach Boys in that hard-to-miss 60s font. As I closed in someone snatched it practically from under my nose, and here I am in line, waiting to purchase the runners-up on my list of top ten special releases. Peter, Bjorn a John, not a band to ignore. Of Montreal, only a thousand pressed. New Pornographers. Decemberists. But the prize, the number one on my list, The Beach Boys including the songs Good Vibrations and Heroes and Villains, an early and alternate take, respectively, my only chance to hear them on vinyl, gone. I tried to hide my dissatisfaction with the day, my disappointment, and I noticed the register girl was the one who always remembered me, knew my music tastes with such perfection that I would blindly buy a record based on her recommendation without even listening to a single song.
“Hey! You made it!” she said to me with her usual winning smile, and I tried to smile back, but the most I could muster was a half-hearted grin.
It was my turn, and she took my records and looked through. She flipped through a second time and reached under the counter.
“Looks like you’re missing one…” she said as she produced a copy of The Beach Boys album, my holy grail for the day. My half-hearted grin turned genuine in a heartbeat. “You want it?”
I nodded, speechless as she rang up my total and I handed her my card without even looking at the price. Who cares, right? It’s record store day.
As I walked toward the door I looked in my bag and once more saw the golden rays shine at me, and I smiled. A quick look at the register and she waved goodbye to me with a huge smile before she took the next person in line.
I love record store day.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged art, Beach Boys, beauty, Decemberists, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, funny, hipster, humor, indie music, kitsch, life, love, music, New Pornographers, of montreal, people, Peter Bjorn and John, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, rare vinyl, record collecting, Record Store Day, record stores, records, retro, vinyl
A Flash of Inspiration 