Friday Fictioneers ~ Feb 1

It’s that time again for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. As always I thank our gracious hostess.


Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)


Make every word count.

You are more then welcome to join us! It’s lots of fun and good practice for your writing. We write a 100 word story on a different photo each week. Please click on Friday Fictioneers above to read the short set of rules and read all the stories offered.

(This one may not be my best as I have been down with a really bad virus all week. But, I couldn’t miss my favorite weekly activity.)

Genre/Science Fiction

Copyright-Claire Fuller
Copyright-Claire Fuller

“Just relax. Breath deep. Close your eyes and let your mind go blank.”

Sara felt his fingers on her head. They were warm and firm. She let her mind clear and relaxed.

“I’m going to go in now. No cause for alarm. You will feel me, but there will be no pain. I will see what you see.”

Suddenly she saw him in her mind! She looked around and saw him head for The Door. No! Don’t open it! She thought she screamed it, but she was silent. She wanted to pull him back.

He reached for the handle and turned it.

She was wide awake once more, tears running down her cheeks. She was alone, again.

Blogging · Mi Vida Loca · nonfiction · stories · Stories of my life · Uncategorized · writing

My Life With Abe ~ A True Ghost Story

I first saw Abe when I was about 5 or 6 years old. I remember he startled me a bit, but didn’t scare me. Even at that young an age it took a lot to truly scare me. Real people scared me more then the shadows I saw.

My family lived in an old house at the time, built around the turn of the last century. It was two stories, with an attic and a basement. I was going to describe it, but I actually found the house on Google Maps! How awesome is that. I wasn’t sure if it was even still standing. Now you can see the house I grew up in, the one that I first met Abe the ghost, and a few others.


My childhood home
My childhood home


The house actually has two living spaces, upstairs and downstairs. The small sidewalk that goes off to the side heads to the back door. As you opened the back door you could either go down a small flight of stairs to the basement, or up to the kitchen door. Past the kitchen door is another flight of stairs that took you upstairs to the other apartment. Beyond that was a steep set of wood stairs the led to the attic. On this picture you can just make out the attic window through the tree limbs.

When we lived in the house there was no fence around the front, and the two big trees on the side were not there. The bush in the front was, all though it was trimmed down back then. Otherwise it is pretty much as it was then. It looks pretty good for being over 100 years old. I know it’s that old because my sister and I were playing in the attic one day and we found some loose floor boards. We pulled them up and found the floor had been insulated with newspapers (which I understand was quite common back then). The papers were dated 1898.

Anyway, with the sun shining it doesn’t look like a scary house does it? But, it is one of the most haunted houses I have ever lived in and I’ve lived in a few. This is where I first saw Abe. All of us kids were terrified of the basement. It was a scary place. At the time we lived downstairs and another couple lived upstairs and they had four kids, so with us that made eight kids living in that house. Every single one of us were terrified of the basement. We all saw things down there that were hard to explain.

That’s where I first saw the ghost I named Abe. All the kids saw Abe at one time or another and we all described him the same.  All we ever saw was a shadow, tall and lean, with the distinct outline of a stovepipe hat. So, being kids the only person we knew who wore a hat like that was Abe Lincoln, thus Abe was named.

this is very similar to what I see


There were other “things” in the house too. But for today I will stick with Abe. To me he wasn’t really scary. One time when I was in the basement alone, I think I was sent downstairs to get some canned food for my mom, I started talking to Abe. It made things a little less scary for me. I just kept a running dialog going till I could get the hell out of there!

I remember asking him why he stayed down in the basement. Also why he was there in the first place. I asked him if he had died in the house and that’s why he was there. It was question after question the way kids do. I saw his shadow off in the corner of the basement. Nothing distinct. Just a darker spot then the surrounding darkness. The basement was lighted only by bare light bulbs  It seemed no matter how high a wattage my dad put down there the basement was always full of darkness and shadows.

Abe wasn’t the only ‘shadow ghost’ down in the basement. There was another one. That one WAS scary. Even the grown ups got scared by him. Only way I know that is I overheard a conversation between my mom and the lady upstairs about it. They would never admit it in front of us kids though. That was the one I was really scared of. But it seemed with Abe there the other one wasn’t. So believe me when I saw Abe in that basement I wasn’t nearly as scared as when I saw the other thing.

It seems, if my memory is right, after I had that one-sided conversation with Abe that he showed up in the main living quarters for the first time. It was like me having asked him why he stayed in the basement was an invitation for him to move upward. He spooked my sister one night. I mean, woke up screaming spooked her! She said she saw him in our bedroom. I didn’t see him that night, but it wasn’t long afterward that I did see him.

I was a fairly light sleeper all my life. Mostly because of other crap that went on. But, one night I woke up because I kept getting the feeling someone was staring at me. You know that feeling. The one where you feel a bit uneasy, then the back of your neck hairs stand on end? Yeah, I got that feeling. I remember it like it was last night. I opened my eyes and saw Abe standing at the foot of my bed!

Now the way our bedroom was set up, my twin bed faced toward the door. My sister’s bed was on the opposite wall and faced the window. She was sound asleep because I heard her little snores. I stared at the foot of my bed and the shadow that was Abe. I wasn’t scared. Maybe a bit startled, but not scared. I just wondered what he wanted. He never gave off a threatening aura to me, all though some of the other kids said otherwise. Then I remembered Abe just disappeared. One minute he was there, I blinked, and then he was gone. I went back to sleep.

After that it was nothing to see Abe in my room late at night. As I grew older I didn’t see him as much. Too busy with life I think. Then we moved. A new house in a newer neighborhood. By then my sister had married and moved out, my older brother too. My younger brother had moved to Texas with a friend. So during my last two years of high school I was the only one left.

I didn’t give Abe much thought then. Till I saw him in the new house! My parents had gone out and I was there on one of the rare occasions alone. I was reading, nothing new there, but then I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I had a dog, but I knew it wasn’t him because he was sound asleep next to me. I shrugged it off. A few minutes later another movement! This time I knew I wasn’t seeing things because my dog woke up and looked in the same direction.

The dog kept looking and so did I. Suddenly the corner where I was watching grew darker. Then I saw the distinct outline of Abe! To prove Abe was friendly, my dog was wagging his tail! It had been a while since I had seen Abe and was a little surprised he was there. I had always thought that ghosts stayed in one spot. Either Abe wasn’t a normal ghost (if there was even a such a thing) or he was different from a ghost. After that I saw him quite often, but never gave it much thought. He was just a part of my life by then.

I graduated, got a job, and my own place with my best friend. Yes, Abe showed up there too, once or twice. My best friend got sick and I moved back with my parents. They lived in an apartment by then. I don’t remember seeing Abe there. It’s not surprising I guess considering all the hell I was going through with my sick friend. Then my parents moved into another house. My room was up in the attic which had been converted to one big room. I saw Abe a couple of times. Just brief glimpses. I don’t think I even thought anything of it by then.

Then I moved away from home. To another state. Across country. I got married.  My husband never believed about things that went bump in the night. I told him about my encounters with Abe and others before I had met him. He scoffed and said those things didn’t exist. He was one of those big rough and tough Texans. You know the type.  Macho. Nothing scared him kinda  guys.

It took Abe a couple of years that time to catch up to me, but he did. I was home alone again. With my dogs. (see a pattern here?) My husband was out with his girlfriend at the time (of course I didn’t know that then) and I was feeling lonely. I was sitting at the kitchen table with the dogs laying at my feet when all of a sudden one of their balls comes slowly rolling down past us. Kid you not! Now I looked around and counted my animals. Yup, all four of them were there! So, who or what rolled the ball???

I got up and went down the hallway that was off to my left. That’s where the bathroom and bedrooms were. No one was there. I turned on all the lights and didn’t see why the ball would roll on its own, on carpet. Over a throw rug. So I shrugged and went back and sat down. My oldest dog took the ball and went off down the same hallway. I called her back and she came back without the ball. I started petting her when that damn ball came rolling down past us again!

My german shepherd was more inline with the hall way and was looking down the hall wagging her tail. Now I had just checked that no one was down there. So again, what made that ball come rolling down? So I took that ball and instead of putting it in the hallway, I put it in a bedroom. I left the door open, but I wanted to see what would happen. I went and sat back down with the dogs. A few minutes later there it came rolling past us again! Honest to goodness truth folks!


So for the hell of it I called out “Abe!” My dogs looked at me like I was nuts. Shortly after I saw Abe out of the corner of my eye in the living room. I actually felt kind of like I was welcoming an old friend by then. All though I had never known him to play with my dogs before. That was something new.

After that night I saw Abe quite a bit. I joked with him that it took him long enough to find me. Maybe I was all ready a bit nuts by then. So I tell my big bad Texan husband about Abe. He laughs at me. Calls me an idiot and shakes his head. Our marriage had been going down hill fast by that time. I was going into a depression, knew it and didn’t care. I talked to Abe all the time. Well I talked to my dogs too. None of them judged me.

Abe must have decided he didn’t like my husband. He started to play pranks on him. Now Abe had quite a sense of humor. He used to hide my books on me. He never did anything mean. Just hid things now and then. I always found them again. But, like I said he must have disliked the ex. At the end of things he made a believer out of a rough redneck Texan. He would do things like hide one boot. Hide his keys. One time he knocked my ex’s snuff can in his lap. Not the can of new snuff….oh no….the stuff he spit into a coke can. Oh yeah that was epic! Nasty damn habit that it was.

Abe would take my ex’s belt, wallet, keys or anything else and hide them. Now the belt off his pants at night was funny. I mean that Abe has style!

The best thing, the one thing that made a true believer out of my ex, was the one time Abe showed up behind my ex in the bathroom mirror. My rough, redneck, tough cowboy type screamed like a girl! Abe never did that to me even. Cause I mean, that would be scary shit right?

After that episode my soon to be ex begged me to ask Abe to leave him alone! Begged me! Ahhhhh. I know, small of me, but I cherished that begging.

Abe did leave him alone as far as I know. It was shortly after that I went into my dark deep hole for a while. Yeah my depression. Didn’t notice a whole lot those few years. Once I came out of that I left my husband and started a new life.  Went through 5 years of stalking by my ex. 

So, now I’m in Canada. Have a new set of animals (my other ones died of old age before I moved here, all within a year of each other).  And Abe? He showed up a couple of years ago. He plays with my dog Sam sometimes. I see him in the shadows. He’s been around a long time. Like a warm welcoming friend. He does startle some people. He still plays hide the objects now and again.

I like having him around. I win all the arguments.





Blogging · Mi Vida Loca · nonfiction · postaday · stories · Stories of my life · writing

Coming Soon ~~ A True Ghost Story

Hello all! I was going to write my ghost story today, but something came up and I won’t be able to do it today. Hopefully tomorrow.

Yes, it is going to be a ghost story. A true one. His name is Abe and he has been around me for many years. Since I was a child actually.

I know some people do not believe in ghosts, spirits, and other unworldly type things. That is okay. There are many of us that do believe. I do. I have always believed, because I have seen things with my own two eyes and have heard things with my own two ears.

So stay tuned, even if you don’t believe. The least that might happen is you get entertained by a loony. 😉

Till then, stay safe!


Blog challenge · Blogging · Fiction · Friday Fictioneers · postaday · stories · writing

Friday Fictioneers ~ Jan 25


Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)


Make every word count.

Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting. Everyone is welcome to join us in the fun by either writing a short story or by reading and commenting. Enjoy!

This week’s picture:

Copyright-Renee Homan Heath
Copyright-Renee Homan Heath

The warm sand felt good beneath her feet. Pushing up her glasses with one finger she stared off into the distance. Her dream vacation. Sunshine and adventure. Two days in, plenty of sunshine. No adventure.

She shrugged her shoulders and continued walking.  Books were how she usually got her excitement so she had decided to go somewhere exotic, out of her comfort zone. Suddenly she felt something hit her back.

Turning she screamed as a large dog  knocked her on her butt as it grabbed a yellow Frisbee. Spread out on the sand with the wind knocked out of her she heard deep masculine laughter as a strong hand reached down and pulled her to her feet.

Her adventure began.

Blog challenge · Blogging · Fiction · postaday · Uncategorized · writing

Writing Challenge: the Devil is in the Details

This weeks writing challenge from WordPress is detail orientated. In their words: No matter what you’re writing, whether it’s long form non-fiction essays, poems, short stories, novels, or memoirs, your powers of observation are critical to creating a scene in the reader’s mind, setting tone, and evoking the mood that helps to tell the story.

Your challenge this week is to practice your powers of observation. Take any person, place, or event, and write three paragraphs describing your subject in great detail.

My usual writings don’t have as much descriptions as this will have.  Hope you enjoy.


The woman walked into the room. Her dark brown eyes didn’t miss a detail. She walked slowly, almost floating forward. Her very long black hair swayed back and forth with each soft step. The inky blue highlights sparkled in the candlelight as if she had small diamonds weaved through out her long tresses. Her eyes reflected the candle’s glow. Soft, yet with unyielding hardness in their dark depths.

Her  red lips held a small smile. It was a smile that lacked warmth. The lips themselves seemed carved out of the coldest marble. Not cruel exactly. Just hard and cold, as unfeeling as the marble itself. She was tall, this woman who walked as if she owned the world. Tall and lean. Like a panther, with her black hair and dark eyes. Her body was sheathed in black leather.  It suited her. The body was held tight within the leather, her long legs encased in it. The leather rounded her hips and cupped her breasts. Her neck and chest were bare except for a slim, small silver dagger pendant that hung there from a thin black leather strip.

Her arms  had long black leather studded with dark gems that encircled them from wrist to elbow. Her long fingers clasped a large bow in one hand.  The other hand was free, but never far from the lethal knife tucked in its case on her hip.

Her feet were shod with the skin of some animal, strong but supple.  She would blend in with the night. Like an opaque shadow. No one would hear her or see her till it was too late. She liked that. It is what she wanted. Her name was unknown. She was only called Waneta, which meant Defender.

No one knows where she came from. They just knew when she showed up, someone died. She defended those that could not defend themselves. The poor, the weak, the defenseless. She was feared by the evil ones. For it was those she went after. They never saw her come until it was too late. They certainly never saw her leave. She was darkness, smoke, shadows.

She watched them all, as she walked her panther walk. She stopped in front of an old woman. She knelt in front of her and the others could only hear whispers between them. The one strong and fierce, the other old and feeble. They watched as the old one cupped Waneta’s face with her gnarled hands. She whispered once more then smiled a toothless smile. Kissing the old one’s deeply wrinkled forehead Waneta then stepped back and dropped a small sack into the old woman’s lap.

She turned with unknowing grace and slipped back into the crowd and then the woods. Everyone she passed wondered who would die that night.


Blog challenge · Blogging · nonfiction · postaday · writing

A Blogging Survey

My friend Liam over at thelifeofathinker has asked me to do a little survey. I’m a bit late with it, sorry Liam! So here it is. The rules are very simple, and sometimes I need simple. 😉

The Rules:
1. Answer the questions provided.
2. Link back to this post (if necessary).
3. Nominate as many people as you want to do the survey next!



The Questions:

1. Why is your blog called that?

When I started this blog I thought long and hard for a name. The first names I came up with were all ready taken so I had to think a bit. Then I told myself why not call it for what it REALLY is? So the name “To Breathe is to Write” was born! For me writing was always something that was in my blood. I love to write! I used to keep journals when I was young. Now I write stories. I just love writing so much that the name of this blog really does say how I feel about writing.

2. What was your first blog post about?

I believe my very first post was a little about me and why I started this blog. I mostly wrote about how I love to write and I hoped others would enjoy what I did.

3. What was your favourite subject at school?

That one is easy. English and literature. I think pretty much every writer liked that in school. Since math was always beyond me and history was a joke (what they taught in schools as history).

4. What is your favourite place to visit in the world?

The forest, the woods. When I go home to visit I always go for a long walk in the forest. When I lived there it was the forest that drew me in. I was at peace in there.

5. Who do you want to do the survey next? (See Rule 3)

Well lets see. I believe I will want to see anyone who would like to do it. It’s always nice to learn a bit more about your blogging buddies. So I leave it up to you dear readers! Answer one or all the questions above. Or not. The question I really like is the first one. So I think that is the one I will ask all of my dear readers.



Why is your blog called that? I read so many blogs and most have such interesting names. I am interested in why you called your blog what you did. Please answer in the comment section! Thank you 🙂

Blog challenge · Blogging · Daily Prompt · nonfiction · postaday · stories · Stories of my life · writing

Daily Prompt: Sweet Sixteen

Since my mind seems to be in a slump in thinking of my own things to write, I’m sure glad we have Daily Prompts to help. I do have a few ideas swirling in the black vortex of my mind for short stories, but they don’t seem to want to crystallize just yet. So I’ll do what I can with the WordPress Daily prompts. 🙂

Today’s is Sweet SixteenWhen you were 16, what did you think your life would look like? Does it look like that? Is that a good thing?


When I was sixteen I never figured I would live this long. Not that I’m old. Far from it. But, I remember when I was sixteen I had it in my mind that I wouldn’t see 40. I’m not sure why I didn’t think I would live that long. Now that I’ve seen 40 well my life could be much worse I guess.

When I was sixteen I never assumed I would make so many mistakes. At least I’ve learned from them. That’s always a good thing. Most young girls see themselves as mothers in the future. Married to a wonderful guy and having a child or two. I never saw that for myself. I never saw motherhood in my future. Good thing too since I couldn’t have kids. As for having that wonderful man in my life, that was always pretty fuzzy back at age 16. So it was iffy. Still is.

It’s funny because I always saw my older sister as a mom and wife. Which she is. She married at 19 and all though she could never conceive a child on her own, she and her husband adopted 3 boys. So she had her dream of motherhood fulfilled.

As long as I can remember I wanted to be a writer. Way before age 16. If I thought of my future at all it had being a famous writer in it. I consider myself a writer, but I’m sure not famous. Yet.

I suppose I just never had a clear-cut future planned out. I’m pretty spontaneous that way. I’ve traveled, lived in a lot of places, and I’ve always been able to adapt. I’ve met some pretty wonderful people, but I’ve also met some people who were pretty nasty and mean. I’ve had my share of both.

I’m not the kind of woman who plans out her life and goes from point A to point B. I’m the type of woman who might go from point W to point D in a zig zag fashion. I enjoy it. Nothing in concrete. Always enjoying the freedom of being different from the ‘normal’. That’s just the way I am, that’s just the way I thrive.

I can’t wait to see what happens next.



Blog challenge · Blogging · Daily Prompt · Mi Vida Loca · nonfiction · postaday · stories · Stories of my life · writing

Daily Prompt: Breaking the Law


Today’s Daily Prompt is: Think about the last time you broke a rule (a big one, not just ripping the tags off your pillows). Were you burned, or did things turn out for the best?


You mean I can’t mention my tag ripping? Well crap.

All right. Then I guess I will have to dismiss my skipping school, writing in library books, smoking under age, and other various small infractions. I’ll have to talk about a big one. For me it’s one of the biggest. Stealing.


Yes, I said stealing. As in ‘I stole something’. What did I say? I said I STOLE something. Yeah, a thief. Nasty right? I hate thieves. I detest them. But for a very short time in my life I became one. Only one time though. Not sure if that makes it better, but it really was only that one time. Let me explain.

It was a couple of months after my divorce. I was broke. Flat broke. There was no food in the cupboards or the fridge. None. But I could handle that. I worked with a few stand up great women. They knew I was having a lot of problems. My very tiny paycheck didn’t go far enough. After rent, car payment and utilities there was no money for food that month. A good friend from work treated me to a nice lunch. So I was fed for the day. There was no way I was going to borrow money from her. No way! She had helped me in the past and I couldn’t ask. Prideful? Maybe.

I had furbabies though. Three dogs that had at one point saved my life. (you can read that story here ) They were my babies. I loved those dogs with all my heart. They were loyal and forgiving and loved me unconditionally. I wasn’t about to let them go hungry after all they had done for me. One was a German Shepherd, one was a Cocker Spaniel and the other was a Heinz  57.

I had no family to ask for help. I sure wasn’t going to my ex, hell, I was hiding from him. So I stole a couple of cans of dog food. Yeah, a moment I’m not proud of. I was so scared! I thought for sure I was going to get caught! My heart was pounding so hard that’s all I heard as I walked out of that store! To this day I still can’t believe I didn’t get caught. To this day that’s the only thing I ever stole.

I went home and fed my furbabies. And cried. I felt so ashamed that my life had gotten to that point. I thought what about the next day? The day after that? I could live on peanut butter (and did for months), but my dogs couldn’t.

It must have been about an hour later that I had a knock at my door. Not many people knew where I lived so I peeked out the window first. Standing at my door was my best friend Terri and her 3 little boys. They all had a bag in their hands. I opened the door and Terri  and her boys came in with groceries! Bags of groceries! Also, she had in her car a big bag of dog food!

She said she knew how rough things were for me money wise. We talked every night on the phone. So she had some extra money that month and her and the kids went shopping for me. Now, I’m not much of a crier, but I cried twice that day. I loved that woman like a sister. She had a wonderful heart and spirit. Terri wherever you are, I love you woman!

So that was my one walk on the dark side. My one trip as a thief. But my dogs ate and I was blessed with a dear friend. After that I managed one way or the other to feed my babies without resorting to thievery. It wasn’t easy, but living with a guilty conscience wasn’t any easier.



Blog challenge · Blogging · Fiction · Friday Fictioneers · postaday · stories · Uncategorized · writing

Friday Fictioneers ~ Jan 18

Another Friday is here and so another Friday Fictioneers! It’s a fun challenge and well worth trying. It’s great practice to your writing. Give it a try! Go ahead. Click on the link and see what you can do! The people are great and helpful. No need for fear. It’s fun!


Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)


Make every word count.

Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields



Ethel watched her son draw with his Crayolas.  He looked just like his grandfather, a bit stern.

She picked up the ringing phone and heard the faint voice of her mother on the other end. She needed to come home. Father was dying.  The war made it hard so she hadn’t been home since her marriage. She had gas rations saved up, thank goodness.  She packed, bundled her son into the old Ford and hoped she got home in time.

She loved him. She felt the tears fill her eyes. She glanced back at her sleeping son. He looked just like his grandfather.

Blog challenge · Daily Prompt · Mi Vida Loca · nonfiction · postaday · stories · Stories of my life · writing

Daily Prompt: Toot Your Own Horn

Today’s daily prompt was this:

Most of us are excellent at being self-deprecating, and are not so good at the opposite. Tell us your favorite thing about yourself.

I’ve always had trouble tooting my own horn, patting myself on the back, giving myself kudos for something. I’m the second hardest person on me, my mother is the first. haha! Truth! So I thought today’s daily prompt would be a challenge. I also thought maybe, just maybe it was time to toot my own horn for a change.


I’m an optimist. Yes, I’m that dreaded person who always sees the good in a situation. Maybe not right away. Because there is some pretty bad crap going around. Eventually though I see the good. If I see a glass half full of water, I don’t see it as half empty. I don’t even see it as half full. I see it as you were thirsty and drank some water so let me get you some more!

I have to admit I haven’t always been this way. There was a time in my life that I only saw the bad. Always. Period.

I went into that black hole called depression. I was so far down in there that I didn’t think I would ever get out. Hell, I didn’t want to get out. I liked it down there. It was a love/hate relationship I had with  depression for a few years.

It got so bad I went weeks without getting dressed. Weeks without taking a shower or washing my hair. All I did was smoke and think of all the terrible things that happened to me. That were sure to happen to me in the future. I wouldn’t talk to anyone. I was sure everyone was out to get me. I couldn’t even open the front door and walk to the mailbox on the curb. I was sure if I did something terrible would happen to me. I was so sure of this!

Then one day I found myself sitting in a dark room with a gun in my hand. Yeah, it got to that point. I didn’t want to be around any longer. My husband at the time was anything but a good husband. I had lost 4 babies. My body would not carry them past 8 weeks. I was tired, lonely, and so far into that black hole I saw no way out. Except the permanent way. I was more then ready. I wanted it. No note, nothing left behind but a shadow no one thought about.

Do you believe in miracles? No? Neither did I. Till that day. I was so ready to die. To just blank out all the pain. I sat there with that gun and was ready to leave a world that hated me. I closed my eyes. Getting ready. Then I heard a noise in the room with me.

I opened my eyes and stared into 4 pairs of big brown trusting and loving eyes. They circled the chair I was in. Just sitting there staring at me in a small semi-circle in front of me. Four big and small dogs that just sat there and looked at me. They didn’t bark, they didn’t whine. They just looked at me. It was like they asked me who would take care of them if I do this thing. Who would love them like I did. I rescued every single one of those dogs from a terrible situation. Now they rescued me.

I stared at those trusting and loving animals and put that gun away. I cried and hugged them all. They licked the tears from my face and I vowed that day that I would get myself out of that black hole and never ever go back there again. No one was worth that kind of darkness. No one was worth that kind of pain.

I kept that promise. I took care of those dogs up till their dying day. They took care of me also. It wasn’t always easy to crawl my way out of that black hole. But I did it. Every day I would make the decision to be positive. To have a positive attitude. Sometimes I slipped. But I never dropped into that hold again.

Now, I always have a positive attitude. No matter what happens in my life. My motto is, everything happens for a reason, and all things are temporary, especially the bad stuff. It has helped me through some rough times. Since that day in that dark room I never give up on myself. I always see the positive. Now I’m getting positive back. So really, what more could I ask of myself?

So I’m tooting my own horn for being positive even when things are at their darkest.


Blog challenge · Fiction · postaday · stories · writing

DPchallenge ~ Starting Over

Today’s DPChallenge is “Starting Over”. In their words:

Making a new start is never as simple as it seems on paper. It’s easy to talk about losing a few pounds or giving up the job you hate to weave animal-shaped baskets on a tropical island, but less so to make it happen, and keep at it.

In this week’s writing challenge, we’re asking you to write a short piece of creative writing (fiction/poetry/prose poetry/freeform mindjazz/whatever floats your boat) on the theme of Starting Over.



She couldn’t believe she actually did it! She quit her boring, hum drum, self deprecating job! She walked into her boss’s office, shut the door, and told him he would have to get his own coffee from now on, or until he hires some other poor soul. She was quitting!

She was tired of being the put upon, tired gofer! Sheila do this! Sheila do that! Sheila is that report done yet?! Her boss had her doing her own job and his, while he took all the credit and the pay raises. Well no more! She finally made the decision to open her own shop. In a small town, where the tourists come every summer and buy handmade crafts. She had finally saved up enough money to open her dream.

She would have her little shop open 6 months out of the year and the other 6 months she would be home painting. That was always her dream. To paint for a living. She didn’t need much to live on, just enough to keep her in paints and brushes.

She was 50 years old and starting over! Again! She found this cute little shop in one of those small seaside villages. It was two stories. The bottom would be the store and the top is where she would live. Perfect!

It took her years of saving and scrimping to get to this place in her life. She had no children, and no marriage. Not anymore. Well she never had the children. As far as her ex husband, well he married his ‘child’ bride and was quite happy with his kid. She chuckled at her own joke.

It would have been nice to have just a little bit more money in the nest egg before she quit her job. But, she just couldn’t take it anymore. If she had to make one more pot of coffee she was going to scream! She gave a little wiggle in her car going down the road. She was so happy! She turned the radio on full blast and sang all the way back to her apartment, even though she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.

As she kicked off her heels inside the door of her living room, she hesitated for a minute. She just quit her job!! She sank to the couch as the realization sank in. What the hell did she just do?? How was she going to make it?? All the doubts and fears rolled over her till her eyes filled with salty tears.

She gulped and did some quick figures in her head. If she was very careful she might have enough money to last for a couple of months. The shop was already leased out to her for the next year. The owners retired and were willing to work with her. She would lease it out for a year then buy it from them if it all worked out.

She just had to pack and move. Move! Oh god, she just had a small car! She would have to find a truck, pay for that and maybe movers because she couldn’t move this furniture herself! What did she do??? More tears came. She suddenly felt overwhelmed. She felt sure she never will be able to handle it all. She never should have quit her job! She wasn’t ready!

As she sat there in a panic, she suddenly felt this immense peace come over her. Like someone gave her a big warm hug and whispered. You can do this! It’s your time now!

She wiped her tears and smiled. Yes, she could do this! She would manage and she would make her dream come true. Sure she was starting over……AGAIN. But this time it was on her terms, her way, her time! Bring it on!