Posted in stories, Truth or Fiction, writing

Truth or Fiction (April 14, 2019)

Hello once again from WordPress Land. Hope everyone is doing well. Ok, so the last story got a mixed review. I’m sorry to say it was…Truth! Oh yeah. This woman is and was a terrible baker. The story was based on my one and only attempt at making bread. I followed the old family recipe to the T, or so I thought. My loaves of bread could have been used as bricks! I swear. My friend Tiny suggested that I exaggerated just a tad.

Well, maybe just a tiny tad, (see what I did there? LOL)

I didn’t exaggerate much. I actually did throw one loaf of bread and nope, it didn’t break. Also, no the dogs wouldn’t eat it. Although I have to admit the German Shepherd did give it a try after fetching it and bringing it back to me. I took it away before he could actually eat it as I was afraid of what it might do to his stomach.

I’m actually a very good cook, just not a baker. I don’t like having to be that precise in my ingredients.

Now on to my next story. Is it Truth or Fiction?

 

 

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

 

 

Alone

 

The dog alerted her to the car before she heard it. Strange, she wasn’t expecting anyone. She was here on her own. It was just her and the dogs. She was used to being on her own lately. Seems her husband was always away for work since they moved here. The house they moved to a few months back was in the country. They wanted room to let the dogs run. The city seemed too confining for several big dogs. So they found this place. No close neighbors, lots of room and plenty of quiet. For the most part, she was enjoying country living.

Sometimes though, it got a bit scary for her. Being on her own, with just the dogs for company. Since moving she had to deal with coyotes, black widow spiders, scorpions, and the snakes she found on the grounds. She didn’t want her dogs bitten or herself. She managed to get them out of her yard. She didn’t kill them if she could help it. She just captured and released somewhere else when she could.

Her husband did buy her a shotgun. One of those that held several rounds of shells. She practiced with it until she got quite good at it. Her husband said she was a ‘natural’, whatever that meant. She just wanted to protect herself and her dogs from the aggressive snakes that seemed to love the rock garden and the dogs loved to find these snakes. If she could she relocated the snakes, if she couldn’t she wanted to make sure if she had to kill it, that it didn’t suffer because she wounded it and not killed it.

She glanced out the side window and saw two strange men exit the old, beat up clunker they were driving. She got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach when she noticed the passenger step quickly around to the back of the house. The driver walked up to the front door and knocked. Max, the biggest of the dogs, growled deep in his throat and her fear grew. She knew that growl. It was when Max sensed something was not right.

She knew all the doors and windows were locked. She always made sure they were when she was alone. She got in the habit when she lived in the big city. A woman alone always kept her doors locked. It was just survival. It was also the middle of a hot summer so no reason to have the windows open.  Her shotgun was always leaning by the front door as she carried it with her when she and dogs went for their daily walk.

She slowly opened up the door. The storm door was locked and it was made of tempered glass. Not easy to break. She didn’t want to open the door but was afraid if the men thought no one was home they would attempt to break in. That she didn’t want. She could always dial 911 but knew from experience that it might take the police more time to get here then was safe for her.

Max stood leaning against her legs. Seeming to feel her fear and reassure her he would protect her if necessary. She didn’t unlock the storm door. She was alone and she wasn’t stupid. She trusted the fear that was building inside her. After glancing at the man who stood at her door she looked past him to see if she could see the man who had walked behind the house. She couldn’t. She knew they were up to no good and to trust her instincts. Not to mention, Max’s.

Max sat next to her, she could feel his body tremble. His ears were perked forward and he gave another soft growl. She laid one hand on his head and looked at the man through the glass door.

“What do you want?” She asked him.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.” He said in broken English. “Why don’t you open this door so I can hear you better?”

In a louder voice, she said, “No. Also, you need to tell your friend the back door is locked and he needs to step to the front.”

He shook his head and with his index finger, he pointed to his ear. “I can’t hear you. Open the door.”

Max growled again, louder. He was ready to pounce.

Louder she said, “No! I want you and your friend to leave now!”

“I just want to talk to you.” He said.

“I’ve called the police before I opened the door. They will be here any second and you can tell them what you want to talk to me about.”

With that little white lie, the man looked angry but yelled something in Mexican that she couldn’t understand and tried once more to get her to open the door. That’s when she saw the second man come from behind the house and step to the car. He started to walk forwards to join his friend. She knew then she would have to do something more forceful as they weren’t going to leave.

She said to Max. “Watch!” That was his command to be ready to attack. She grabbed the shotgun from next to the door and held it. She didn’t want to hurt anyone but if she had to, she would shoot them to protect herself. She felt the icy fear leave her and a calmness replaced it, and things seemed to go in slow motion for a bit.

The man at the door spotted the shotgun, stepped back, shouted something in Mexican again to his friend and turn and run towards the car. That’s when she shouted to Max to “Stay” and she opened the storm door. They were racing the car backward out of her driveway when she aimed the shotgun and fired. She could see she hit the front of the car but not enough to stop them. She didn’t want to stop them, she wanted to scare the shit out of them and to show them she would not hesitate in using the gun.

She watched as the driver gunned the gas and sped out down the road in front of the house. She backed inside the house, locked both doors once again. Keeping hold of the shotgun like a lifeline, she sat at her desk in the living room and started to shake. The adrenaline left her body and she felt sick, limp and in badly need of a coffee.  As soon as she got her shaking hand to dial, she called the police and within a few minutes, they were there knocking at her door.

 

 

 

 

 

Is this story Truth or Fiction? Let me know what you think! What would you have done in this situation?

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Humor, stories, Truth or Fiction, writing

Truth or Fiction (April 5, 2019)

I’m beginning to think people know me well.  As I think everyone voted right. My last story was…TRUTH. Yes, sad to say it really did happen. When I was younger I rescued a lot of animals. Dogs, cats, whatever. I’m an animal lover. If I see they are being abused I will try my best to get them out of that situation…even if it means breaking into someone’s yard and taking them. Eh, arrest me. I’d still do it.

Doesn’t happen quite so dramatically now as I’m too old for that and my fence climbing days are over…but who knows. If the situation warrants, I still might manage.

My story does have a happy ending. I managed to rescue the dog and finally got someone from the Humane Society to come to pick him up as, unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to take it to a Vet nor keep it as I had four dogs already. This very nice lady came over and I gave her an abridged version of how I got the dog. She called me several days afterward and told me their Vet had to do a major operation to remove the chain from the dog’s neck but he was doing fine and this same lady had decided to adopt him herself.

I felt so much better knowing he was going to a loving home and would have the good life he richly deserved.

Now onto my next story. Is it Truth or Fiction?

 

 

Pixabay

 

 

A Slice of Life

 

“Hmm, maybe we could make something out of these?” She asked.

Looking at her listeners as they cocked their heads to the side. She stated, “They would make a great border for the garden. I mean, no birds or animals would take them away.”

Reaching down she rubbed the ear of her closest listener. Whining softly he leaned against her leg. It was like the dogs were agreeing with her.

“I mean, look at them.” She reached over to the table and picked one of the items up, rapping her knuckles against it she spoke again. “It’s as hard as a rock, it would make a great garden border.”

Sighing she placed the object back on the table and sat down hard in the kitchen chair. Frowning she pulled the cookbook over that was laying open on the table and read the recipe again.

“I don’t understand what I did wrong. I followed the recipe. I didn’t substitute anything, which I’m usually doing.”

The three dogs lined up in front of her with expectant faces. “Sorry guys, nothing to eat here. The recipe didn’t exactly turn out like I wanted. I don’t think even you could eat this, Max. It would break your teeth.”

She picked up the item from the table and let it fall back down. It made such a loud thump that it even startled the dogs.

“See, Max? I bet I could throw them up as far as I could and let them land and they wouldn’t even break.”

She stood up and walking around the dogs she opened the back kitchen door and tossed the item out of it as far as she could into the yard. It landed several feet later with a dull thud. “I told you.” She stated to no one in particular. She watched as the dogs raced outside to find the object she threw. Max managed to lift it in his powerful jaws as the little dogs yapped and jumped excitedly beside him. Max proudly came back and laid it at her feet.

Looking down she had to laugh at the look Max gave her. “I told you, you wouldn’t be able to eat it.”

Such a sad sight, the item laying at her feet and three very disappointed dogs. She was sad too, as she had been looking forward to a warm, buttery slice of freshly made bread. All they got were four loafs of…bricks. Hard as rock bricks of bread.

Her dad had always made it look easy when he made bread. So she decided to try her hand at it. “I think I’ll let Dad keep the bread making skills, guys. I stick with my world-famous potato salad.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, is this story Truth or Fiction? Let me know! Have you ever tried a new recipe only to have it fail miserably? What was it?