Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts

Friday, February 15, 2013

Or Else

It is day 15 of the 30 minus 2 days of writing hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is "Or Else".  Visit Nicky's post to see what else is going on.  This is also posted for Friday Flash 55.

Image Source:  toupeira.deviantart.com
We had been warned over and over that we should straighten up or else, but those were just words.

So the moment that glass broke, our fate was sealed.  Mother Superior rapped her ruler on the desk as we stood silent before her.

I guess now we will find out just what "or else" meant.


Edit: For story background, click on the link above.

Friday, December 7, 2012

The Rose Garden: The Wedding

Six months earlier.  "She said yes, Mother!" Gerald shouted, ecstatically.  "Can you believe it?  She actually said yes."  Gerald knew his mother was lurking somewhere nearby.  She usually did when he was alone in the garden. 

Allison sat cross-legged on the floor in the living room amidst a mountain of catalogs and brochures.  Her blond hair hung in ringlets around her face as she bent over a cake catalog, murmuring "chocolate with vanilla icing, or butter cream with chocolate icing?  No, I'd rather have carrot cake."


Gerald had been watching from the next room, thinking she had never looked lovelier than she did now in her faded jeans and Bon Jovi T-shirt, representing Allison's favorite band.  They went to see them the month before in Atlanta when they had picked up her wedding dress.  She deemed "Thank You For Loving Me" as 'our song' and they danced in the aisle as the band played.


Spotting him she smiled.  "Gerry, have you talked to the photographer and videographer?"  "I want to make sure they can be here for the rehearsal dinner, too.  Did you mention that?"


"Yes, dear, we are on their schedule for Friday night, and they will be at the church at noon on Saturday," replied her future husband patiently.  "Everything is under control.  You have gone over every detail to the utmost and then some."


"Are you saying that I have obsessed over my perfect day?"


"Not at all, sweetheart, not at all."


"Well, I still have to choose the cake.  What do you think?  Chocolate or vanilla?  Traditional or carrot cake?  Maybe even carrot cake squares with little miniature candy carrots for decoration?  I like it!  It's settled."


"I love a woman who's not afraid to make a decision" said Gerald, laughing.


All brides have issues and obstacles to contend with to make it the perfect wedding, and there is seldom such a thing.  The food is overcooked or undercooked, or someone has one too many cocktails and causes a scene or botches the toast to the bride and groom.  And so after many months of planning, comparing prices, interviewing photographers, and sampling countless hors d'oeuvres, the big day finally arrives.  


As Gerald dons his rented tux, he fumbles with the tie.  Frustrated, he mumbled "how does this go again?"  Then he smiles, remembering their first lunch in the rose garden.  It is so fitting that they exchange their vows in that same garden.  That's why they planned a Spring wedding.  The vestiges of Winter have faded away, but the wrath of Summer was not yet upon them and Mother's yellow roses were in full bloom just as he knew they would be.  

Allison emerges as the music begins.  Dum dum de dum... Her bridesmaids lead the way, their matching pale blue dresses swaying as they walk.  The bride was a vision of loveliness in her gown of satin and lace, strolling down the aisle as if on air.  Her hands cradling a bouquet of beautiful yellow roses.  She chose to wear her hair down covered with a lacy veil dotted with seed pearls.


Allison's face was radiant as she turned to Gerald.  He, himself, beaming to rival the sun.  What a glorious day.  Gerald wishes his mother could be there, and yet, at the same time he knows she is.  After all it is her garden. 


The minister is speaking.  "Do you, Gerald, take this woman...?  Do you, Allison, take this man...?"

They recite the vows they wrote together to each other.  The minister pronounces them husband and wife..."you may kiss your bride" he said. 


"Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Gerald McLandon.  Congratulations!"

When they reached their table with their cake and champagne, Gerald notices a small box with a note at his place.  He opened the box and his eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and amazement.  It was the diamond brooch that his father presented to his mother on their 25th anniversary.  The note said "For Allison".


Allison did, indeed, have the perfect wedding day.

If you haven't had a chance to read the first three parts here they are:
The Rose Garden
The Restoration
The Rose Garden:  Allison

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

What's That They Say?

Image source:  mojado.com

Days of anger
Days of pain
What's that they say
That I'm insane
If that's true
Then who are you
Someone whose story
I wish I knew

Days of sadness
Lies and fear
What's that you say
Someone might hear
What has been hidden
From everyone's view
That mine is the story
I wish I knew

This poem was written for dVerse Poetry and is purely fictional and not reflective of my life.  Also see "The Voices are Silent".

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Beyond the Window

Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth
Beyond the window he could see her sitting in the garden.  A sad look clouded her sweet face.  He wanted so much for her...would give her the world if he could, but she did not want it.  She never wanted this.  The large house, the servants, the driver who would take her anywhere she wanted to go. Still she felt like a prisoner in her own home.  Long hours spent staring at the clock upon the mantle while she waited for him to return.  He knew she wasn't happy, and hadn't been for a long time.

If we can just make it through the next few years, he would tell her, then things will be different.  Ah, but she had heard that all before. 

As she sat on the bench beside the pond she felt him watching her as she watched the goldfish.  She turned toward the window and pasted a smile upon her face.  She knew he tried.  He knew he failed.  He knew she would be better off without him.  She knew she could never leave.

What happened next would free them both...

Written for Magpie Tales.

Friday, August 24, 2012

The Note

Kenny arrived home from work, late as usual.  These long hours were paying off, he thought, as he parked his shiny new Lexus in the garage.  Sharon would have dinner holding in the oven.  It was Friday night, so it was probably lasagna.  She would be waiting in family room, a glass of her favorite red wine on the table as she played bejeweled blitz or some other Facebook game, with the TV on in the background.

prowellwoodworks.com
Kenny walks into the kitchen, the light is on, but there's no familiar smell of dinner waiting.  He calls to Sharon, "Hey, I'm home.  Did you want to order in tonight?"  No answer.

He goes to the family room, no Sharon.  He goes from room to room, but she's not there.  Wait a minute, her car was not in the garage.   How could I have not noticed that? he thought. 

Worried now, he headed to the bedroom.  He glanced around the room and then he saw it, there on his pillow.  "Good-bye" was all it said.

As Kenny sat and stared numbly at the note, it hit him.  There was so much he hadn't noticed.


Written for the prompt "Note" at One-Minute Writer - Friday Fiction.



Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Saving the Day: An Intervention

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is the 26th day of this challenging event, and we are approaching the finish line.  Today's prompt is An Intervention.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to get the inside scoop.

**Fiction**

The headline read Saving the Day:  An Intervention.  "I was just doing my job" John told the reporter, after he was photographed being hugged by the little girl's mother.

It had started the day before when the FBI profilers had narrowed the search to one man, Hector Stimfield.  He was wanted in six states for kidnapping and murder.  He targeted blond-haired, blue eyed girls between the ages of 10 and 12.  They believed him to be a victim of abuse by his older sister when he was a child.  His sister was now in prison for dealing drugs and assault.

Hector moved from state to state, and job to job.  In his current location he worked as a furniture delivery man, which allowed him to gain entrance to people's homes.  That is how he searched for his victims.  His most recent kidnapping was 12 year-old Eliza Parker.  She had been missing for two days.

Image Source:  geograph.org.uk
Local authorities, working with the FBI, had a tip of a blond girl and a man fitting Hector's description in the warehouse district on the north side of town.  The FBI and SWAT were on the scene in minutes.  There was an old white delivery van parked outside an unoccupied warehouse.  Snipers set up on the roof tops of several nearby buildings.
They tried to negotiate with her kidnapper.  They knew what he was capable of and that the situation could become volatile at any moment.

This is where John came into the picture.  He was positioned with a direct line of sight into the warehouse through a broken window.  His rifle, an Intervention sniper rifle, was among the best and most accurate.

He was waiting for his cue.  The FBI wanted to give Hector the opportunity to surrender so he could be arrested, tried and hopefully convicted.  If he failed to comply, then they would allow John to take the shot when he had it.

Not grasping the reality of his situation, Hector refused, saying "If you come in here, the girl's dead."  That was it.  John took the shot and it was over.

After the child was returned to her, Mrs. Parker insisted on meeting John to thank him, and that's when the photograph was taken.  She hugged him and thanked him profusely.  "If not for your skillful intervention, my daughter might have been killed.  I cannot thank you enough."

"You're welcome, ma'am.  I was just doing my job."

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Designer Blues


“Well this just sucks,” Amy complained bitterly to her friend, Sharon, as they tried on designer jeans.  She had been a six forever, and now she was squeezing into a size ten.  On her wedding day everyone raved about how she looked in that figure-hugging gown of satin and lace.  Ever since her divorce, however, things went downhill while her weight crept upward.

“Cheer up” replied Sharon, “you still look great.  I saw that TDH checking you out at the club last week.”  TDH in their code stood for tall, dark and handsome, or in today’s lingo, a "hot guy".

“Yeah, I camouflage it very well," she said wryly.  "Some days I convince myself it’s not so bad, and other days I rationalize that I’m not the only one whose waistline has expanded or have parts that jiggle that were never meant to.”

“C’mon, let’s get a smoothie” Sharon suggested, hoping to take her friend’s mind off her woes.  “We’ll get one of those healthified ones made with fat-free frozen yogurt and skim milk.”

“All right,” Amy agreed.  “I haven’t had lunch yet anyway.  Hey, maybe I’ll renew my membership at the gym.  I sure won’t change my life sitting on the couch watching Law and Order reruns.”

“Atta girl!  I may just join you.  What have I got to lose?”

Ann sighed.  “In my case, about twenty pounds!”

Two weeks later Amy and Sharon met at the gym after work.  They each had set up a workout schedule, and Sharon was excited to see her body changing.  “I’ve already lost an inch around my waist” she exclaimed.  “That’s awesome!”

“I’m glad one of us is seeing some results,” Amy said glumly.  “I’ve lost about five pounds, but apparently in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean.  I might have to look into one of those low-cost tummy tucks.  If I lose weight, but still have lumpy, bumpy fat bulging out, what’s the point.  Covering up only works so long, you know?  Soon it will be time for swim suits.  Arrrrgggghhhh!

“Well, there’s that,” responded Sharon with a groan as she put down her weights.  “I know. How about liposuction.  I’ve got a cousin who had liposuction to lose some excess weight.  It worked for her, and she looks fantastic.”

"I guess it's something to think about," said Amy, already imagining herself at the beach in a brand new hot pink bikini.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

The Princess

Eli was concerned about his latest dream.  It rang with an eerie reality.  Slowly he remembered...when he was just a lad his mother told him bedtime stories - fairy tales she called them.  He thought they were the same stories every mother told their children.  Ones from a fantasy land, but unlike King Arthur and Hansel and Gretel, her stories were tales of the animal kingdom.


Image source: djajakarta
The tale she told most often was about a princess who was raised by a family of giant birds.  They lived at the top of a huge tree in the middle of the enchanted forest.  They were the rulers of the forest and one day they found a tiny baby whose parents were killed by the beast who roamed the night just beyond the forest's edge.  They took the baby to their nest, cared for her and raised her as their own.  Because she was different, they made her a princess.  For years the princess lived among the tree tops until one day she realized that she didn't belong here, that there was another world below.  She bid a tearful good-bye to her bird family.  Over the years, her family had grown and she had hundreds of siblings.  They gathered to carry her safely to the ground where she began her new life.

But now Eli questioned whether that was really a fairy tale.  It might explain the weird dreams he had been having.  Could his mother be the princess of her tale?  Was she an orphan after all or was she really hatched?

Written for Magpie Tales.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Birdman?

Image Source: image: ParkeHarrison
During the night something strange has happened to Eli.  He stirs to consciousness only to feel all prickly.  His foggy mind is wondering who put all these sticks in his bed.  As he tries to stand up, sticks stab his bare feet.  Ouch!  What? 

It appears that Eli is standing in a giant bird nest.  This is ridiculous, he thinks.  There is no such thing as giant bird nests, or am I losing my mind? 

As he begins to climb out of his prickly confines, he stops to take a look around, and is startled at what he sees.  Tree tops.  Pines, oaks, etc.  How is it that he is standing in a giant bird nest at the top of a tree?


Oh no, he thought, I'm not standing in a giant bird nest.  It's much worse.  I am six inches tall, standing in a normal bird nest at the top of a tree.  Help!!!


When Eli finally did wake up, he found bits of twigs between his toes and a feather in his hair.

Written for Magpie Tales.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

A Lunar Vacation?

I just heard that there is water on the moon.  Now why it has taken NASA and a whole host of scientists 40 years to discover this, I'm not sure.  But what a breakthrough.  This could be the resort of the future, the Lunar Riveria.

Let's think about this.  We need transportation, shuttle pilots, flight attendants, gourmet food service and in-flight movies, which means more shuttles, larger accommodations, more pilots (read astronauts) and flight attendants. To build the resort, we need engineers, architects and plumbers trained in minimal gravity design...think toilets.   We don't want that stuff flowing upstream now do we?

As for electricity, how would we produce that in space.  Burn coal?  Can't.  Fire won't burn without oxygen.  Besides we've already polluted one planet.  Let's hope we've learned something.  As far as I can tell, there is no wind on the moon, so wind-generated power is not an option.  I know, how about giant solar panels so we can capture solar energy and store it.  If you can store heated water, and power lights and radios, there should be a way to power other things.  This is not new technology.  The concept of solar energy has been around for many years.  As a child I had a solar powered radio - actually I still have it, and it still works.  However, the methods of collecting it, storing it and using it have surely improved over the years.

All of these measures have no consequence, if we cannot breathe.  This brings us to greatest obstacle - how do we get oxygen in adequate supply for survival?  Possibly large tanks of oxygen and a distribution system?  Too bad we can't pipe it in like natural gas. Picture that pipeline!  To go outside one would need to don a space suit in order to survive the lack of air pressure.  Otherwise all the liquid in your body would boil, and what happens next would not be pretty.  There is an up side to this.  The fashion designers would all be competing to come up with the hottest new line of space apparel. Good-bye itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini.  I guess space age swim suits would kinda take the fun out of things - at least for the guys!  That's a argument for indoor swimming pools - heated with the solar panels, especially given that there is an approximate 500 degree swing in temperatures on the moon's surface.  Bottom line is step foot outside without protective gear and you're dead!

At this point I am thinking we need a much larger shuttle system involving cargo transports for the building materials, oxygen tanks, solar panels and storage units, contractors, etc. and that is just to provide life-sustaining structures.  


Speaking of life-sustaining measures, what about food? In such extreme conditions, crops can't be grown or or livestock raised, so all food would have to be transported from earth.  This would definitely require more transports and create more jobs.

This is just the beginning... Financially speaking, your Lunar Riveria getaway will make a Hawaiian vacation seem like a trip to Walmart, and cause your credit cards to expire on the spot.  So, who's paying for this adventure?  There are many questions unanswered...after all we just discovered that there is water on the moon.