Friday, 27 July 2012



It's not always easy to say how you feel, so sometimes it's a good- or really very bad idea- to write it down. What has happened in the past to lead you to this point - pen poised, hovering over notepaper? Maybe you communicate better on paper than face to face...maybe you should have acted differently...but should you be sitting here writing it all down...should you be jumping in the car, heading off to see him/her face to face, sort things out? Your call, your story - just make sure there are Three Things You Could Have Done Better.

Harriet slowly opened her brown rheumy eyes
As they came into focus she soon realised
The beautiful young girl with the shining brown hair
Was still sitting beside her in the pretty Lloyd loom chair

Sylvia smiled at her gran with love and moved to plump up her pillows
She smoothed the bedclothes and straightened the trenches and furrows
Harriet started to speak and Sylvia was hooked from her first sentence
I could have done better in my life but some things weigh heavily on my conscience

I should have told my best friend her beau was cheating on her
Then I would have had to admit he was a cad and a bounder
I broke it off as soon as I could and kept the secret until today
I couldn’t risk losing her affection when he tried to lead me astray

I picked up the pieces and kept in contact but I think she knew
The way she looked at me I thought she could see what was true
I’m glad I didn't spill the beans though as we stayed in touch all these years
We’ve had our share of happiness, joy and of course many, many tears.

She paused for breath as Sylvia poured her a refreshing cup of tea
From her favourite oriental china tea set kept on the table in the dinette
Aunt Gracie had a secret, you know, she lived in sin until her own kids were married
We never knew about his first wife until she died

For twenty five years religious doctrine had them living against the law
Then the surprise wedding invite dropped through everybody’s front door
If I’d been more persuasive more people would have come and celebrated
They had no problem until the truth came out and then they turned and hated

Sylvia’s eyes filled with tears as she thought of the prejudice and bigotry
That kept people apart or living in fear throughout the course of history
She took Harriet’s cup, saw she was getting weary; it didn't take much at 90
Don't fuss now.  I need to tell you one more thing Harriet said simply.

I married my darling Fred and couldn’t have done any better
Together we faced some tough times and braved stormy weather
Thirty years with him and thirty missing him in heaven
Now I’m ready to meet my handsome fireman again.

Word count: 400

Tuesday, 24 July 2012


100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#51
The prompt this week is another simple one:
…. the line was drawn ….
As always you have an additional 100 words to add to these 4 making 104 in total. The prompt must not be split and should be suitable for a PG certificate. Please visit and comment on others as it is this shared support that brings out the best in us. Do read ‘What is 100WCGU?’ If you are completely confused or leave a comment below!

Looking over the hill he could clearly see the line was drawn
Wavering over and gliding through the growing green and gold corn
Two lines marking the way forever set parallel to each other
At the edge of the field in the distance lurks menacing dark cloud cover

Emerging through a patch of brilliant sunlight appears a flock of birds
Who swoop in and out of the flashes of light, soaring ever upwards
The farmer removes his cloth cap and tips his bald head back in reflection
Has he done enough through the hard years to ensure the future of his children?

Word count: 104

Monday, 23 July 2012



She perches her slight frame on the high backed chair
Cascading down her back she shakes out her long blonde hair
Steadying herself by the tips of her knee length boots
Her hands on the guitar strings she strums a few notes

She looks up and out towards her audience as they wait
In eager anticipation until the first note rings out
She has them spellbound, entranced and enthralled
Whether it’s a small room in a pub or a grand hall

She loves what she does, she pays her dues
Her voice is delicious with strong golden hues
From nine to ninety they come and watch in wonder
This slip of a girl, a glint in her eye, a tinkle of laughter

She captures powerful emotions as she hits the soaring notes
Sending shivers of thrills down their backs with quivers of delight
She transports her audience into dreams of the past or the future
A beautiful angel of song, the wonderful miracle of a daughter.


Wednesday, 18 July 2012


100 Word Challenge for Grown ups – Week #50

Week 50.  As it is summer here in the UK we could write about the weather as it is the middle of summer so the sun will be around – yes? No!! The prompt is:

… the rain turned the road into a river…

You have 100 words to add to the prompt making 108 in total. Please don’t split the prompt. Link is above for others to find us.

The rain turned the road into a river running downhill
She stared out of the rain lashed window leaning on the sill
She remembered another day being caught in the rain
Laughing together as they became drenched to the skin
Leaning out of the windows all the cars at a standstill
Bending forward towards each other as their lips met together
The warm wet liquid falling on their hair making them wetter and wetter
A moment in time that they couldn’t pass up because of the weather
A yellow daisy, a fleeting kiss, an eternal memory to treasure
A love to last, an unforgettable romantic gesture

Word Count: 108

Friday, 13 July 2012


 It's time for Knights of Micro Fiction challenge hosted by Kathy McKendry   Knights of MicroFiction
 This month's prompt is:
In 200 words or less write a flash fiction using the phrase:  The sky darkened...
then for an added challenge include a sound that surprises one of your characters and a foul smell.

The sky darkened as the end of the day approached, the street lights were beginning to flare and flicker as their orange glow slowly changed to a white light.  It had been so busy in the office that Susan hadn’t had a chance to eat her lunch.  She was so hungry she was beginning to feel faint. 
Opening and shutting the drawers in her desk there was nothing there, no sweets, mints or chocolate left.  When had she eaten all the goodies she usually had stashed?   Sighing to herself, she picked up her bag, retrieved her coat from the hook on the back of the door and left the office.
She stepped out in to the twilight and turned to lock the door.  She punched in the code numbers to set the burglar alarm which promptly let out a shrieking wailing sound.   Swear words that she couldn’t say out loud formed in her mind as she belatedly remembered the code always changed every thirteen days.
Hitting her empty stomach the smell from the perfume factory struck her olfactory organs all at once combined with the screeching alarm, nausea resulted.  
She now remembered today’s date.  It was Friday 13th July 2012.



This prompt is about long-term love; perhaps suffering a mid-life or 7 year itch crisis. The couple recognizes it is time for a change; but how drastic does the change need to be to rekindle the relationship?  Who wants the change; husband, wife, mutual?  Who would suffer the most from either a break up, or from the status quo?

For older lovers:  perhaps this is the retirement of one or both, or one is suffering a physical or mental health change.
For mid-life lovers:  perhaps this could be an empty nest syndrome, or a male mid-life crisis, or female menopause.
For younger lovers:  perhaps there is an unexpected pregnancy to upset the balance; or a career change –promotion or firing or company move; or the sheer boredom of routine.

What we want to see is when the romance loses it shine, and the eye wanders, but what our disgruntled lover finds so appealing in another is the qualities that the old flame has lost.  Does he/she realize this on their own?  Or does the jilted lover or new love point it out?  How is the situation resolved?  Or is it too late?

This is a special challenge, so it has special guidelines:

To be in the judging for Featured Writer, you must be a member (sign up on the thumbnail linky) and follow these guidelines:

  • Word limit is 600 words
  • Any POV - first, second, third person
  • Prose/prosetry
  • Judging will be based on the FIRST WRITING ONLY; meaning, if  you edit or revise based on initial feedback, the re-write will be disqualified. Only the original will be entered into the competition.  Once the link is up, it is the final submission version. It is fine to improve your piece for publication elsewhere, but for judging for FW just leave your original post up.

Abiding Love

In England there were celebrations at the end of the war
The physical fighting had ceased but now they had to repair
The ravages that had been wrought but people still had to take care
Families reunited, men returned, some broken, some full of despair.

They returned to family life, husband and wife and their two girls
She was the youngest, prettiest, a spoilt princess with long dark curls
A few years later the girls start dating boys, teenagers having fun
The beginning of that new music, rock and roll and dance action

The decade of 1950 everyone began looking forward to the future
Romantic films, glamorous actresses, dreamy heroes were the answer
So couples paired up and after a time, boy and girl became man and woman
He wasn’t quite so sure but she persuaded him because she was very, very certain.

Before she was 21 she thought she’d found love, she’d found just the one
The man of her dreams, she thought she would keep him forever and a day
Tall, dark and handsome, such a beautiful couple they made, a day to be proud
They posed at the church door, wedding bouquet and button holes displayed

Two years later came their first baby, a beautiful boy they produced
Times were tough but as a family they scrimped and endured
Adding to their family their second son came along three years later
She did so desperately want what her sister had and have a pretty daughter

Things were getting rough, money was so very tight
They fought and fought and argued for days and nights
To save their marriage another child would cement their fidelity
A pretty daddy’s girl he took unto his heart and loved her dearly

The years took their toll, family responsibilities grew and grew
The young, carefree days were things of the past and lost to view
He started to flirt, to feel his ego boosted, he was still a young man
There was no premeditation but the divorce proceedings began.

The shock and scandal hit the village but the gossips always said
She was too pretty for her own good and things would go bad
She picked herself up, dusted herself off, she found another chap,
Single and wealthy he took her and the children and fell in to her trap

Perhaps their union contained less passion on her part than compared to before
Compensated by money in the bank and a big house but he wasn’t her saviour
They had their own daughter but the differences were too great, violence ensued
She left, single with a child still at home, a divorcee but not subdued

Her first love was always there, they remained deep friends
Three children together meant that on each other they could always depend
They both remarried, she went to his second wedding which ended amicably
After his third wife’s loss she helped him as he mourned his loss deeply

They were now alone without their partners still bound by their first love
Living near each other, spending days together, enjoying their grandchildren
He was still the charmer, still the aged Casanova with a pension
Along came the diagnosis, shattering all who knew him

Only months to live although he fought with all his might
He lost his struggle one wet and rainy night
She misses him more than anyone can know
He was her eternal love, her beau

She carries on from day to day
How can you regret abiding love she says?
They couldn’t live together forever
She doesn’t think the grass was actually greener.

Word Count: 600

Tuesday, 10 July 2012


There is a flash fiction contest hosted by Candilynn Fite called Follow My Lead Flash Fiction Contest running this month so I thought I would give it a go.
The rules are as follows:
Flash or sketch piece must relate to image in some fashion.
~Piece must be 300 words or less.
~Any genre acceptable within the PG-13 rating, unless you'd like to leave a blog link w/story. *Must specify in comment*
~Please leave your contest piece in the comment section of Candilynn Fite blog page
~Be creative. :)))
*Prize information is on her page.

The sun shone down through the open windows warming the air inside the room.   She looked at her surroundings with a smile on her face as she took in the furnishings.  Everything was in place and all she could do now was to wait for the phone to ring.
The time was set for the call. She watched the big hand move slowly around the black and white clock face.  The time zones were so different she would be able to take in all the celebrations this evening but she wanted to be alone until she had spoken to him.
The secret she hugged to herself felt as though it was Pandora waiting to jump out of the box and set the world alight with her bag of tricks.   This was such big news she felt herself fit to bursting with the news.
The day’s shadows gradually grew longer as the time drew nearer and nearer.   She had heard the telephone ringing in her imagination so many times that when the bell actually began to ring she didn't believe it at first.
There was so much static on the line it was difficult to hear properly but she heard the love in his voice as it came through the satellite connection from ship to shore.  His opening words set her heart quivering.  She drew breath and started to speak.
As she told him the results of the tests she could hear him yelling and whooping with joy.
She mulled over their short conversation as she sat in the window ledge, knees drawn to her chest, as she looked up she saw two fireworks bursting into radiant colour simultaneously above her.
These twin girls she was expecting were going to set their whole world alight with joy and delight.

Word Count: 300

Tuesday, 3 July 2012


100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week #48
The picture last week certainly split the views with some of you loving it and others leaving it alone.jfb57
Hopefully this week will bring harmony back to all. It is simply:-

… I blamed it on the dog…

Your pieces should be 106 words long (the prompt plus 100). Please make sure you visit to comment on others and do leave a link back here for others to find us.

Here is my take on the prompt -
N.B. I obtained the owner's permission to use the photograph of the wonderful Bailey - this piece is fictional.


Romping in the leaves, lolloping, his big paws scrambling
Ears pricked up with the sounds of dry branches breaking
Snuffling in the ground sending up spirals of dust and dirt
Trying to find the elusive smells, tantalising his senses, all alert
Laughter echoed through the sparse woodland with gaiety
The trio were having such a fun filled day where they all could agree
Until the moment came for rest and respite, a blanket on the ground
Out came the hamper, pastries, pies, plates and cutlery set out all around
Along with an empty bottle of eggnog
Pointing at him, I blamed it on the dog.

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The 12-Step Program
Okay, I’m a lost and broken dog. I have a terrible confession: I have a sock fetish, which according to the dictionary means an obsessive or unhealthy preoccupation or attachment with an object.

But there, I said it . . . and often heard that the first step in overcoming an addiction is to admit I have a problem. It is a terrible problem. I can’t get enough socks, which is even more of a problem because they aren’t my socks!

Well, they eventually become my socks because I chew and tear so many holes in them that no one can wear the foot coverings by time I’m done with them, but that’s beside the point.

You see, they are my family’s socks. I can’t help it and I am so ashamed of myself. Whenever I see a sock in the laundry basket I have to go grab it, stretch it until I hear that priceless sound:  ripping. AAHHHH, a sound of satisfaction! Tear it, shred it, and grate it; that is when they are at their best!

Even though Big D has tucked them deep into the toe of the shoe, I like to get into Big Daddy’s running shoes. I stick my nose into the cavernous shoe until I can reach just a teensy-weensy thread and pull it out. Yeah, I know, the smell is pretty unpleasant and you’d think that would deter me, but I guess that indicates how desperate my dilemma is.

I’ve even been known to chase Little Daddy around the house when he’s taking his shoes off so I can grab a sliver of the cloth and help in pulling it off his foot. If I do that, then at least the taste is in my mouth and there’s a better chance I get to keep it since I put the entire sock in my jawbone and slobber all over it. They don’t like to touch it when it is coated with dribble.

Then, I dash into my favorite upstairs hiding place: under the bed. I know, I know, I’m a big dog but I can still fit under the bed and no one comes in after me. The beauty of that is they know I have the upper hand, so they go to the cabinet in the bathroom to get a biscuit to entice me to come out. When I hear that box, I immediately go to my bed, the heck with the sock!―a quest for a later time and date. Besides, I have the best of both worlds: a biscuit AND the sock!

Yes, it is true. I go to great lengths to feed my addiction. I follow Nee Nee up the stairs biting at her heals until she gives them up, or until I trip her. Sorry, Nee Nee! Or, I stand on my hind legs at the washer and dryer searching for strays, and park myself politely at the dryer while clothes are being folded to quickly grab one that may fall on the floor. I’m getting pretty good at Snatch-and-Go’s.

Now, if you want to know how the story finishes, go to to download the book Life through the Eyes of a Hurricane: Doggie-Dog! This e-book will be free for this week ONLY! (Sale ends Saturday, July 7.