It's Time to Go

Summer Evening, Edward Hopper, 1947

It was a hot summer night following the end of World War II.  A woman's voice could be heard above the call of the frogs and crickets.  "Charlie, you can't leave, it would break mama's heart.  She would be lost without you with Daddy gone."

Lauren, Charlie's sister, was trying to dissuade him from enlisting in the Army on his 18th birthday.  

"The war's over," Charlie explained.  "This is my chance to see the world, learn a trade, and make a life for myself.  Daddy would be proud."

"Daddy died in the war.  You think he'd want you running off and leaving mama and me.  To risk ending up like he did?"  Lauren was not only scared for her brother, she was angry.  Angry that he could just up and leave them.  It wasn't mama's heart that would break as much as her own.  Not only was he her brother, he was her twin and her best friend.  Losing him would be like losing half of herself.

Reading her thoughts, as he did so often, he said quietly, "Don't worry, you won't lose me.  I'll be safe.  Daddy will be watching over me.  It's time for me to go."

Written for Magpie Tales #77

Best Friends

Frank and Neil toss their cans into the barrel and turn in.  Tomorrow's a big day - both are entered in a bass fishing tournament.

Best of friends, each secretly hopes to take the prize.  Come morning, however, Neil's boat stalls.  Rules state one contestant per boat.  Frank offers Neil his boat.  Thanks...but I can't.

Written for Friday Flash 55.

Evening Glory

Tis calm and serene

Water caressing the shore

As the evening fades

Nursery Rhyme Redo: Birds of a Feather

Pink Flamingo at the Como Zoo

Birds of a feather dressed in leather 

Danced with the pigs in a line 

The rats and mice held their own 

And formed a chorus line

For those of you (like me) not familiar with the original verse, this is the original "birds of a feather".

Birds of a feather flock together

And so will pigs and swine

Rats and mice will have their choice

And so will I have mine

Let's Get Creative

Hello! I'd like to take a moment to invite you to join me today at Tribal Blogs, where I will be guest posting on the topic of creative writing.  I will take you through my process for creating fictional stories.  Let's take a walk on the creative side together.

Tribal Blogs is a place where writers of all types come together to share tips, discuss writing, technical issues, and generally support and entertain each other.  Come see what we're all about!

The Escape

Image Source: Luciano Meirelle

Gene eased the Harley out of the garage and walked it quietly down the street.  So intent was he on getting away unheard, he would not start it for three blocks.  Safely away, he fired up the big bike.  He loved these early morning rides along the coast.  A great escape from the "honey-do" list.

Written for Friday Flash 55.

Nursery Rhyme Redo: Hey Diddle Diddle

Image source: Curt Merrill

Hey diddle diddle the cat played the fiddle 

and the cow slept in until noon

The little dog did laugh and cavort 

and then he began to croon

Tick Tock

The old clockmaker squinted through the lens at the tiny gears.  They must mesh perfectly or it won't be accurate, and his clocks were always accurate.

Image source: tibchris' photostream

Ah, but maybe it's time to retire, to let his apprentice take over.  After all twenty years is a long time to stand in someone's shadow.

"Daniel, it's your turn."

Written for Friday Flash 55.

A Miracle

Image source: Striking Photogrphy by Bo

The wildfire burned hot, and smoke filled the evening air.   Scores of firemen had been battling it for hours, when someone shouted "over here".  There in the bank of a nearly dry creek was a small cave.  Crouched inside was a boy and his dog.  It was a true miracle on that hot August night.

Written for Friday Flash 55.  While this is a work of fiction, devastating wildfires continue to burn in Arizona.  Let's keep these people in our thoughts and prayers, as well as those affected by the recent floods and tornadoes.

A Tortured Soul

Caught in a world between the living and the dead.  
A lonely, dark place where forgotten spirits dwell.  
She cries out but no one hears.  
"Why?" she sobs.  "This wasn't supposed to happen.  
 My little boy won't remember; my husband will forget.  
I never realized how precious life is.  
Few do until it's too late."

Written for Friday Flash 55

Nursery Rhyme Redo: Little Jack Horner

Little Jack Horner - All Grown Up

Image Source: Vistavision

Little Jack Horner alone in the corner
Regretting his recent lie
He tippled his rum - said what have I done
I'll be in this mess til I die

His Name is "Moe"

"So what are you going to name your new friend?" Tommy's mom asked.

"Moe",  he answered without hesitation.

"Why?" 

"I don't know, he just looks like a Moe."  

"Hey Moe" called Tommy.  The little puppy's ears perked up and he wagged his tail.  "See, he likes it" shouted Tommy as Moe bounded toward his friend.

Posted for Friday Flash 55.

Note: Little Tommy is a fictional character. 
Artwork from the Open Clip Art Library

Nursery Rhyme Redo: Little Miss Muffet

Image source:  smallacornsnz.blogspot.com

Little Miss Muffet
Collapsed on her tuffet
She hated curds and whey
When the little ol' spider
Sat down beside her
She gave her curds away.

Nursery Rhyme Redo: Little Bo Peep

 Little Bo Peep had too many sheep
And the sheriff came to impound them
He locked them away for a year and a day
And dared Bo Peep to find them

Late night produces some strange thoughts, and so this is the first installment of my rewritten nursery rhymes. 

Tommy's Treat

Photo credit: Pietroizzo

Black, white and tan, it wriggles and whimpers.  Where's mama?  Mounds of squirming legs, small wet noses sniffing out breakfast.  Mama rolls over and breakfast is served.  Day after day,the furry bundles grow, skittering around, chewing everything in sight.  

Little Tommy points to the one with a black patch over one eye.  He's mine!

This was posted for Friday Flash 55.

Little Tommy finally got his puppy.

Friday Fun

It's time for Friday Flash 55
It makes the weekend come alive
And makes the G-man so proud
That he shouts out loud

So now we pull out all the stops
And whether it flies or it flops
Be it timid, outrageous or bold
Our story in 55 words we've told

Ready, set, GO!  It's your turn.

Written for Friday Flash 55.

An Evening in Spring

The sun set over the lake streaking the clouds with brilliant orange and lavender and aqua accents.  Jenny and her mom sat on the back porch listening to the frogs and the crickets.  

"This is a perfect evening" said Jenny's mom.  "Do you know what would make it more perfect? asked Jenny. 

"What's that?" 

"Lemonade!"

Written for Magpie Tales and Friday Flash 55

An Early Arrival

The wind carries fragile seeds far away from the mother plant to gently land and take root in the rich soil.  Spring arrives and the sun, in all its warmth, forces the seeds to sprout.  Soon another generation has begun as blossoms of yellow dot the landscape.  For good or ill, so grows the dandelion.

Photo Credit:  John Charlton

Written for Friday Flash 55.

Going, Going, Gone

The skies cleared, the sun came out and down the road a school bus slowed to a stop.  Do their brakes always squeal?  Kids stared gloomily out dirt-streaked windows.  Yesterday’s snowman, once tall and proud with gravel eyes and a very distinctive nose, was now a hat and scarf  atop a melting pile of snow.

Original Artwork of Roses to Rainbows

  Written for Friday Flash 55

The Price of Greed

Photo Courtesy of Magpie Tales

Jean Luc sailed the high seas more than 400 years ago under the French flag.  His cargo was gold, precious gems and  brandy.  He was trusted by King Henri to return payment for trade goods.  Jean Luc thought "why shouldn't I get something for my services.  After all I am the one taking all the risks while the King sits safely upon his throne being waited on hand and foot.  His bath drawn by lusty handmaidens, who stood ready to wrap him in soft warm towels.  His large soft four-poster bed warmed by hot stones and an elegant glass of brandy on his night table.  Here I am risking foul weather, pirates and God only know what other dangers.  No, the King could spare some coin."  Stealing from the Crown, however, was treason, so he must come up with a plan.  With pirates roaming the waters, an attack and loss would be horrible but not a crime. 

He, Jean Luc, a French nobleman, would be admired for his bravery as he battled the pirates to protect the Crown's assets.  He would ultimately lose the King's gold to the marauderers, and so the plan was put into motion.  The ship sailed into pirate infested waters and a mock battle ensued, with great damage inflicted on the ship.  Jean Luc's crew, loyal to the end with the promise of gold, carried out the "fighting", sustaining injuries and appearing thoroughly defeated. 

Miraculously, no one was mortally wounded, but the pirates escaped with the gold, or at least that was how it was portrayed to the King.  The King was outraged, and called forth his Navy to track down and kill the pirates and retrieve his gold.  Pirates were killed right and left, but no gold was recovered.   

After Jean Luc's ship was repaired, he and his crew fled France under cover of darkness on a moonless night with their precious cargo, which was stored in a compartment beneath a false bottom in the hold.  When they reached a safe haven, Jean Luc went below to retrieve the chest, and opened it to revel in his fortune, which, by the way, he had no plans to share.  When he lifted the lid, he was first shocked, then angry.  All the chest contained were packages  of salt and one lead crystal salt shaker.  He was so distraught that he murdered his entire crew and threw the bodies overboard along with the salt.

What Jean Luc, in his misery, didn't consider was that the salt, due to the hated salt tax, was worth more than gold, and was thus the payment for goods.  Pass the salt, please.

Written for Magpie Tales.