Posted in Writing Prompts

Reena’s Xploration Challenge #281- Life Decisions

Let’s see how you choose to open and decode this message 🙂

Marj was in a dark dilemma.
She’d done so much crying that her eyes were nearly swollen shut.
What would she tell her parents when they returned from their overseas trip in ten days?!
He was 7 years older than she at 24, and her “first”, but he’d romanced her in a way that made her feel completely safe and valued. What a naive child she was! Now, that was all a tortuous month ago and he had since vanished.
The early pregnancy test had come back positive this morning and she now found herself rummaging in the attic for luggage to run away… or something else.
Another rush of panic made her fall to her knees praying to God for direction and it was then she spied the envelope between the rafters.
It was stiff-almost crispy- and it was sealed with wax like was done in the ‘olden days’.
When she turned it over, the three bold words on the other side made her audibly gasp.


The letter must have belonged to her great-grandmother whose name she had always worn proudly. Marj had heard that she had raised her grandmother all on her own after a “tragic accident” of some kind had claimed her first husband. Later on, when Grandma was 10, she’d married Grandma’s stepdad -the man she knew as Grandpa-and had twin sons.

Marj waivered a bit then opened the note:

My Dear Marjorie,
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I did love you! Never forget that. We were impulsive kids full of lust and got carried off in a few passionate moments. Now I hear you’re “in trouble”.
I know a doctor in Memphis who deals with unmarried girls who are “in the family way” and sets things right. I’ll help you pay for travel, if you wish. Do what’s right.

As Ever,

“Great-grandmother Marjorie had never opened this letter. She probably knew what it was going to ask her to do. And I’m here because she chose not to do it. I hear you, God!.”

Marj placed the letter back, a little more carefully hidden, between the floorboards. Straightened her posture and went back to her room to look online for a job, and possibly later on, research ‘baby names’.

Posted in Writing Prompts

OLWG #290- Flash Fiction- Happily Ever After

So – here’s the deal.

  1. I maintain a file loaded with at least 50 writing prompts, at all times.
  2. Weekly, probably on Sunday’s, I will post two or three prompts from my collection.
  3. Take those prompts and, choose one of them, choose all of them or, choose none of them and incorporate them into a story or poem. You can wax poetically, or you can write fiction, non-fiction, stream of consciousness, or whatever else strikes your fancy in that moment of that day.
  4. If you want to apply a bit of pressure to yourself – limit your writing time to 25 or 30 minutes. You can tack on extra time to edit, if you want or you can have that time include editing. Your choice.
  5. Post your work on your blog with a link back to the prompt page that inspired you.
  6. Choose a number between 1 and 50. These choices will determine the prompts used for the next time.
  7. Have fun, take risks with your writing, and ignore any or all of these guidelines from time to time.

This week’s prompts are:

  1. here we go again
  2. postcards from Paris
  3. it replaced wine tasting

    Happily, Ever After

    “Does anyone know what’s gotten into Pricilla? I saw her outdoors in jeans and a t-shirt yesterday! I hope she’s okay.”

    The Ladies Artisans and Antiques Auxiliary meeting was about to begin and one of its founders was conspicuously missing.

    “I’ve noticed a change in her too. I approached her last week with our ‘sister’ group’s postcards from Paris and she hardly acknowledged them! She mumbled something about being too busy. Perhaps her maid quit, and she needed to interview a new one or… I’ve got it! She has a delightful surprise planned for us. I’ll bet it’s a wine tasting with her second Cousin Eugine again.”

    “That wouldn’t explain her dreadful attire, Claire. Something’s wrong.”

    Here we go again! Pricilla has most likely reconciled with her Ex. Remember when she first met Carl. She started drinking beer and shopping at Walmart!”

    “Poor, poor, dear Pricilla. She’s so easily led into the dregs. That uncivilized man really has an unholy influence on her.”

    “We may have to perform another intervention and hire a private investigator again. All in favor say, ‘Aye’.”

    A unanimous affirmation came from the group of 7. An investigator was hired, and the results were earth shaking!

    Pricilla was photographed in the company of Carl at a skeet shooting range. That barbaric activity had more than replaced wine tasting because Pricilla appeared giddily happy in the photographs, something that those ‘ladies’ found profoundly uncouth. Pricilla had betrayed them, and her name was not to be ever mentioned again. How dare she live Happily Ever After!

    [I choose #11]

Posted in Writing Prompts

Wordle 536

room, cloud, any, fist, raven, rock, slide, speak, west, story, blend, circle

See the source image

My story came full circle when I walked into that room.

When I was a kid, I believed animals could talk. I didn’t give it any thought that it may not be true until I lost my innocent intuition as an adult. It seemed I took a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree slide into radical realism.
Then, I became a father.
When my four-year-old son started insisting that birds could speak, I slammed my fist onto my desk, startling both of us. He ran off crying and I rationalized the incident as ‘good for him’ so he would recognize truth from fiction as soon as possible in such an unforgiving world. There was no blend of parental guidance and support for my child’s imagination that day. I was the boss!
He opted out of having me rock him to sleep that night and there was perceivable distance between us that I’d never before felt. A cloud of regret suddenly surrounded me.
My dad had been a Wild West, no nonsense guy, and I recognized immediately from my own past, the betrayal my son was feeling when I hadn’t listened to him.
Now, I walked into his room this morning, hoping desperately to mend our trust, and there on his open windowsill sat a large raven-like black and white bird.
“Daddy! This is my friend.”
I knelt beside my boy and said, “He’s beautiful Billy. Does he talk to you?”
Before Billy could answer, the bird (who turned out to be a pet magpie that was on the loose) said, “What’s up dummy?”.

Yep. I’ll be ‘eating crow’, for not believing in Billy, for years!