FOURTEEN YEARS AGO

Creek and Bridge. CC2.0 photo by Jason de Runa.
Creek and Bridge. CC2.0 photo by Jason de Runa.



FOURTEEN YEARS AGO




Graduation night… Fourteen years ago. That was the last time I had been to the neighborhood park.

My undergrad at Michigan. Graduate work at Sterling. Internships at Brooklyn Med. Now, being accepted at the Mayo Clinic as an internal practitioner.

The dreams we had dreamed as kids all started with the nights we spend in the treehouse.

After all those years, I didn’t really expect to see anything but rotted boards, but stranger things have happened.

I saw a light through the underbrush. Lydia was probably already there.

A young lad with her? He looked to be in his teens?



Written from the prompt found at Flash Fridays- Warm-Up Wednesdays. Requirements: This week’s Warm Up Wednesday Challenge: in honor of the publication anniversary of Winnie-the-Pooh (Oct 14, 1926), include a favorite childhood toy/lovey.

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OZ: THE SCARECROW’S STORY

scarecrow



OZ: THE SCARECROW’S STORY



Can’t believe she’s gotten away with it. Me stuck here… middle of an alfalfa field… she’s running scot free.

All Dorothy’s fault. She weren’t the sweet, innocent girl Aunty Emm thought. Conniving little ruffian.

Sure, the tornado was true. But that story about the house blowing away … a magical land… Who would believe such a tale?

Just because I had bright red hair … my head hadn’t yet grown into my ears… t’was no reason for Dorothy to harass me like she did. Little witch.

Now, I’m not name callin’. T’was a witch in the story. It was Dorothy.



Written for Warm-Up Wednesdays @ https://flashfriday.wordpress.com/ . Requirements: Using the photo prompt, and 100 words, create a piece of flash fiction.  This week’s Warm Up Wednesday challenge: include someone who wishes to speak but can’t.

Found in Mom’s Scrapbook

Whetting Interrupted, 1894. Public domain painting by Jose Ferraz de Almeida Junior.The San Francisco Examiner: May 1853

Honest, hard-working widower wants wife and mother for eight-year-old son and six-year-old daughter. Homesteader with adjoining river. Sod and log three room home. Will need strong disposition. Winters are rough. Please respond to L.K. Turney in Evansville, Wyoming.

************************************

Dear Mr. Turney,

I am also an honest woman. Residing here for seven years as a single woman has been a struggle. Read into that what you will. I will answer no questions. I do not want to lie.

Good fortune brought my husband and me to the coast from Boston. Luck did not follow us. My husband is gone.

I can read and write and I would want to be able to not only to assist you on the farm but to also teach your children. Without an education, man is not much more than a base animal.

If you are not put off by my frankness, I would like to meet you.

Sincerely, Eleanor

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Dear Eleanor,

                Your bluntness is welcoming for the fierceness of Wyoming.  My children would love to meet you. Traveling expenses are wired- I hope it is enough- to the Hotel mentioned on your envelope. As you can see, I am a trusting man.  

I hope to see you soon.  Lorenso



Written for Flash Friday! Requirements: Use of photo prompt. Theme: Aspirations. 210 words count.

Goodbye, Alice

Rain (Liberia, Guanacaste, Costa Rica). CC2.0 photo by NannyDaddy.
Rain (Liberia, Guanacaste, Costa Rica). CC2.0 photo by NannyDaddy.

She was the one. It was those eyes. When she looked at me, I felt she knew my innermost dreams and passions.

I was only seventeen when we meet, but I knew from across the yards she would be mine.

It seemed eons passed waiting for her to approach the master of ceremonies. Tension filled the air from my competitors. My own heart stood still in my chest as her escort walked her to the front of the stage.

There was such a clamor as we all sought for her attentions. But when the dust settled, she went home with me. Nine years. Eleven beautifully formed children. Twins three times. I was so proud. She had made my dreams complete.

Sure, it started off small. Most wonderful things in life do. But now, the family room’s back wall was covered with certificates… ribbons… and trophies… from her and the accompanying family.


Memories flooded me. I knew it was more than the pouring rain cascading from my cheeks. The rendering truck could still be heard as it accelerated onto the main highway. Slipping down the embankment coming in from the pens was more than the old girl could handle.


I think I will wait until morning to tell the two girls.



Written for Flash Fridays: Requirements: 200 words with a  10 word grace; use of the picture prompt; incorporate ‘a fleeting moment‘.

A Mother’s Visions

https://flashfriday.wordpress.com/2015/01/23/flash-friday-vol-3-7/#comment-25644
https://flashfriday.wordpress.com/2015/01/23/flash-friday-vol-3-7/#comment-25644

“He didn’t come in last night.”

“Give him some space, Yessica,” Mortinus calmly replied. “He’s twenty-two. One night away from home? He’ll be in.”

Yessica was already buttoning her heavy overcoat. “I’m going out. I know where to look.”

“Not another vision.” Annoyance was sneaking into her aged husband’s voice. “I suppose you’ve ‘seen’ him.”

“He needs my help, Mortinus.” Yessica was already through the kitchen door, mounting her bicycle to comb the beach.

Yessica pedaled the deserted oceanfront, watching the tide lines, all the way to their small village. She saw nothing.

Stopping at the local tavern, the keep was tidying up from the night’s crew. “Last night, was my Johannes here?” Yessica was weary from both the night’s visionary turbulence and the trip.

“Left early, Yessica. Crabbing with the locals out Becca’s Breakers. They were…”

“They were going to check the cages just beyond the sandbar.” Yessica completed his sentence.

“Yaha! How did you know that?”

“Call the Balliff. Get the trawler to the sandbars. There’s been an accident.” With that, Yessica was gone.

Traveling much slower on her return, Yessica surveyed the incoming tides as they broke against the beach front.

“There!” she stopped, alone on the beach. “Debris… I see two bodies!”

Yessica stood and waited.


Written for Flash! Friday. (Requirements: A “beach” and the photo prompt. 200 words with a 10 word leeway.)

Of Whispers and Secrets

Spying, 1972. CC3 photo by Daniel Teoli Jr.klp
Spying, 1972. CC3 photo by Daniel Teoli Jr.klp

Trembling, the uninvited tears silently cascaded off my chin as I hid behind the tiger lilies.

John, this is not working out. I don’t want you at that uppity nip joint any longer.

I knew Dad had a night job. It paid much better than the trucking docks.

These aren’t the kinda people that you can just go up to and quit. There are consequences. Repercussions, honey. That’s my job… the repercussions.

They respect you. They asked you to join them. That’s got to count for something.

Respected my knuckles. They respected my size- I usually don’t even have to use my knuckles.

Dad massive arms enveloped mom as she was now soundlessly sobbing.

OK, Vera. I can try to go back to boxing at the gym. That’s where they found me. I can probably strike a deal if I return to the fights.

The outer door shut.

Running to the window and slipping down the escape, I followed Dad.



Written for Flash Fridays (A requirement of 150 words- a 10 words grace.)

Alfonso’s Resolution

Edmonton Chinese New Year. CC photo by IQRemix.
Edmonton Chinese New Year. CC photo by IQRemix.

“They’ll be here soon.” Brenda’s quivering voice bursting with anxiousness.

Our first couple’s party … together… tonight.

This was the penthouse apartment of our small subdivision. Actually, that was my way of dreaming. We lived on the ninth floor – the top- of the new complex in “the projects”.

Our dining room balcony was the best place in the multiplex to see the fireworks display being set-off in the downtown stadium. How could a party go wrong from here?

Trying to calm the impending storm, I foolishly countered, “Don’t be so pressured. They have all been here before. Our friends love this place!”

“Don’t tell me how to feel!” was the clipped retort. The verbiage went on from there…

I sat … imitating listening.

I’m a thinker… not a feeler. As I sat listening and reassessing last year’s resolutions, slowly, but firmly, I wrote my new resolution for this new year: RESOLUTION #1- Alfonse, know when to keep your mouth shut!

Written for Flash Friday!