Monthly Archives: January 2020

Icyback…

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PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

The flashback was bad… really bad.

Screaming metal… the awful slamming stop. The impact of steering wheel… being trapped within smoking metal… Like I said, it was bad.

Nothing so welcome as the icy piece of heaven on earth. The rich, smooth, sugary confection sliding down a throat parched from screaming. The sweet welcome of calm that slowly melts the knot of fear still clutching at my chest. Ah, it is what it is, and what it is, is divine!

As bad as the flashback was, the ice cream was even better.

wc: 92

 

This short little fiction is written for Friday Fictioneer ‘s , a 100 word writing challenge hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. A hearty thank you to Na’ama Yehuda for this week’s photo. If you would like to read more short fictions, or am in a mood to participate, then please, follow the link and come to join us around the table. We’d love to have you!

Down Memory Lane…

I began my writing fanaticism back in the mid-seventies. My first publication came through the Young Author’s Conference program in elementary school. And, my first published write created quite a stir in my small community. Not only for the content, but also for the use of the word “Helle” as in Hades.  I was 7 yrs old that year. In 2008, I had access to a photo editing software package and made this image with the poem and used it for a college english/art assignment.. This is what I wrote… “Mommy The Alcoholic”

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Old Pier

I was going through some old backup files that go all the way back to 2004.  Before that, it was 3.5 floppies that I  have but can’t access. Anywho… I found this write for Friday Fictioneers and thought I’d share it…. It had no picture with it, sorry.

 

Old Pier at Sunset

She walked out to the end of the pier to watch the sunset. Unconsciously, she rubbed a hand over her extended abdomen, feeling the young life as it wiggled within her. The child she carried always moved around at this time of the day. Maybe it was the coolness of the breeze coming off the ocean, or perhaps the stillness that seemed to settle over the island as the sun dipped into magical color. She smiled again as she felt the push of a small foot, or was that a hand. The small pain was a reminder of the joy she contained within. She smiled, dropped her towel and jumped in…

The baby, wouldn’t ya know, loved to swim…

march2004

 

The Door…

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Photo prompt: C. J Hardy Carroll

Author’s note: I’m in mid-edits on something at the moment, so I’m playing with those characters. You’ll Recognize Alexander as being Dr. Alexander Bearfighter from my Hope Ranch series. Abigail is a current resident who just returned from the tropics where she experienced some pretty traumatic circumstances. So, I just popped out this little ditty this morning. Rough as it is. It speaks of how difficult it is to move on after tragedy, I believe.

 

‘No, Alex, please.’ Abigail latched onto the edge of the door. ‘No, I can’t…’

Alexander patiently watched her. ‘I assure you, you’re totally safe. There are no cartels here.’

Abigail sank to her knees, fighting back the memory of that day. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t walk through the door. As much as she’d like to, and as much as she loved the tropical plants, she couldn’t will herself to step through the door.

‘When you can come through the door and face the past, you can heal.’ He reminded her. ‘Until then, you’ll be frozen in time.’

This short little fiction is written for Friday Fictioneer ‘s , a 100 word writing challenge hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. A hearty thank you to J Hardy Carroll for this week’s photo. If you would like to read more short fictions, or am in a mood to participate, then please, follow the link and come to join us around the table. We’d love to have you!

 

 

The Gift

 

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Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Walking into the antique mart, I froze. Tucked behind an ancient telephone, it sat. I couldn’t move, words failed. A piece of my life…

Tentatively, I reached out to the tag.

“SOLD”.

My heart fell to my toes, further still. Turning, I walked out. In my car, I wept. To come so far… to find it… and now…

I was heart and soul broken.

Next morning, I padded down to the living room, bedecked in Christmas splendor. Beneath the tree a single package addressed to me.

I opened it. Tears came. It was a piece of my life restored.

wc: 99

This short little fiction is written for Friday Fictioneer ‘s , a 100 word writing challenge hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who also gave us this awesome picture to write from this week! If you would like to read more short fictions, or am in a mood to participate, then please, follow the link and come to join us around the table. We’d love to have you!