Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Wednesday Whatever!, writing

Wednesday Whatever! ~~ A short story

Today I decided to do a little bit of writing. I went to *Random First Line Generator* and just decided to do a short story with whatever first line I happened to like.

Below is what I came up with for the first line of:

The footsteps were moving away.

 

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The footsteps were moving away. She took a deep breath, drew the hood over her head and turned to dart in the opposite direction when her ears picked up a slight sound. She froze, her nerves tingling. If she was caught they would kill her. No questions asked, no hesitation.

The sound of faint buzzing came from behind her. Damn. One of those mechanical tracking devices had caught her scent. If she didn’t move fast she was dead and she wasn’t ready to die today.

Reaching into her pocket she withdrew a small vial. After smashing the vial into the ground she ran down a flight of stairs barely visible in the darkness. Inside the vial was a concoction of her own making. A vile and long lingering scent that would confuse the tracking device long enough for her to make her escape.

Her lips curved up into a small sneer as she raced around the next building. It would take more than a few slow-moving guards and a bloodhound machine to stop her. She knew it had been a risk to come this close to her enemy but it was also the only way to get the information she needed.

Carson could make demands, yell and fret all he wanted. It didn’t make any difference. Sasha was always going to do what she wanted when she wanted. How else were they going to free her father from the prisons of Alazaban?

Her father was all the family she had left in this desolate wasteland of a world. She wasn’t going to lose him to a loathsome, ego-maniac like Drakon.

Drakon was a self-made lunatic. He had money, power, and men behind him. She had herself, Carson and a few rag-tailed friends. Sasha felt the odds were still in her favor. After all, Carson was the best mechanic around and could build things from almost nothing. Her strengths were that she was a genius with chemicals.

With the two of them and her few friends, she would make Drakon sorry he ever took notice of her that fateful day last year in the market. She wasn’t about to give in to Drakon’s demands.

Because she refused his advances, Drakon took her total dislike of him and made her the promise that she would pay for her stupidity. He called it stupid, she called it survival. It was well known what Drakon did to his former lovers when he got tired of them. She wasn’t going to suffer the same fate.

He kidnapped her father and told her she could trade herself for him. Wasn’t going to happen. Sasha was going to get her father back…or die trying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Fiction, postaday, stories, writing

The Talons Reach (A New Halloween Story)

I don’t put disclaimers on my stories. Until today. This story has some things in it that relate to domestic violence that might trigger some people. Do be warned. Thank you.

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The Talons Reach

I remember a night like this one, many years ago. The skeletal limbs of the trees were brushing the dark sky in a maniacal dance as the wind blew in small bursts of rage. The gray clouds scuttling in the night as everything was covered in a cold drizzle of rain.

A perfect night for Halloween that was, just like tonight. Exactly like tonight. I was married back then. Married…What a joke. More like imprisoned with a jailer who was both cruel and unrelenting. Cruel in words and deeds and unrelenting in heaping them upon my person.

I still hear his mocking words as he walked out the front door that last night. That Halloween that will be forever remembered as my night of freedom.

“Clean yourself up and straighten the house before I get back. I swear you can do nothing right. My dinner was five minutes late! And it was not hot enough. Why I married such a slovenly, slow, dim-witted and ugly woman as you I will never know. I will be back in a couple of hours and this house better be spotless.”

In silence I watched him as he left, slamming the front door. I heard the lock being turned and a few seconds later his car leaves the driveway. I remember the pain of the punches he left on my body before he left that night. The dinner plate upside down on the floor with the food splattered against the dining room wall. The slow drip of the spilled wine glass laying on its side on the table.

Just another night in my nightmare of a life. If you could call it a life. It was more a slow and agonizing death. As I knew he would kill me one day. He would kill me and somehow blame my death on myself and get away with it.

How I hated him. I hated him with a passion I thought he had beaten out of me. That passion burned bright and fierce that Halloween night as I got up off the floor and slowly walked to the bathroom. I turned on the light and took a good look in the mirror and my hate burned brighter.

As I wiped the drying blood off my face I didn’t shed a tear. Not a one. As the water in the sink turned pink I vowed that it would stop this night. The pain would stop. I would not, could not, take it anymore.

As I made that vow the lights flickered rapidly. I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them as I heard a screech. It was a long spine-chilling screech like fingernails on a chalkboard in slow motion.

I don’t remember being scared. More curious than scared. I poked my head out the doorway, my pains nearly forgotten for the moment. The lights flickered again. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then I heard scrabbling coming from the living room. Like bird talons against the marble floor.

I walked into the room, not even hesitating. Looking back, I should have been terrified. Yet, I wasn’t. I had been living a life a terror for years, nothing much could compare to that.

I stopped inside the room and watched as an enormous black raven lifted its wings as it took a step towards me. I stood still, letting it approach. How did it get in? Then I felt a breeze and looked to my left and saw the patio doors open with the wind and rain blowing the curtains aside.

I heard that godawful screech again and jerked towards the raven. Its talon had left a long deep groove in the floor in front of it. It’s dark round eyes peered at me as it’s head tilted a bit to the side. I had never seen a raven that big before with eyes that were almost….human. Almost.

Do you know I never said a word? I saw that human-like bird and never said a thing. I just stared at it as it stared back at me. Then I could have sworn it smiled. Indeed, it wasn’t a pleasant smile but it did smile and then it slowly walked to the patio doors and left.

I closed the doors behind it and turned and walked away. I cleaned up the dining room and calmly got myself ready for bed. Then I waited. I waited for my jailer to arrive and I waited for something else. I waited for retribution.

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

I heard the car arrive in the driveway and I knew he was home. I sat up in bed and my heart began to pound. I listened for the key in the door but the wind decided to pick up just then and all I heard was it howling through the trees.

Then I heard another sound. That scrabbling noise like I heard earlier that night. Even through the wind and the trees, I could hear it. Maybe I was looking for it. That noise of the raven. Maybe that’s why I heard it and not his key.

I knew he would stop in the living room and pour himself a Scotch. He always did. He was a monster but a monster who was a creature of habit.

The small lamp on the nightstand flickered just as I heard the crash of the patio doors opening. I thought I heard an oath quickly cut off just as a loud screeching noise made the hair on my arms stand on end. I knew that sound. The sound of a giant talon against the marble floor of the living room.

Then I heard him scream. A long scream that slowly dwindled down to a low moan. I heard something I never thought I would hear. I heard crying. I heard my jailer crying like a lost child.

I walked to my bedroom door and opened it. I looked down the hallway and listened. Nothing but the crying was heard. The wind had suddenly stopped and so did the rain. I put one slippered foot in front of another and walked to the living room. I was afraid.

I was afraid that my monster would be there and I would be his victim once more. I stepped inside the room and at first saw nothing but the open patio doors. My body stiffened as it heard a now familiar scrabbling noise. As I turned I was able to see him on the floor, sobbing with his hands over his head and curled in a fetal position.

The raven was next to him and staring at me. It’s head tilted once more in that questioning stance, his talons still and silent. His large black eyes watched me as I glanced from it to the man blubbering on the floor. The words coming out of his slobbering mouth not making any sense at all. Just mindless gibberish.

I smiled. I shouldn’t have I know but I did. I smiled at the raven and nodded once. The huge black soulless, almost human eyes just blinked once, twice, thrice and then it lifted it’s wings in one grand gesture and walked out the patio doors.

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

That was years ago, of course. My jailer is now jailed. Not in prison, oh no, but jailed none the less. I had to commit him to the hospital for the mentally insane in the next town. The poor man thought he was being followed by a giant man-eating raven. He had to be medically institutionalized for his own good.

I visit him every now and then, especially on All Hallows Eve. He seems quite…restless that day.

I also started a group for people who have been abused mentally and physically by their spouses. It’s been active for years now. It’s very successful, although the members insist on staying anonymous. This Halloween I will be helping a very nice woman down the block who moved into the neighborhood a few months ago.

I wonder how her monster feels about ravens?

 

 

 

Happy Halloween everyone!

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Fiction, postaday, stories, writing

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Here is another reblog of an earlier story that I wrote for Halloween. Tomorrow I hope to have a brand new one for your reading pleasure! Thank you and enjoy.

Yeah, I’m borrowing the title from Snoopy.  He said I could. We’re  close friends. Snoopy borrowed it from Sir Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton, and now there is a contest every year called

The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest

The contest uses the infamous phrase to showcase the worst extremes of this “purple prose”. It only uses one sentence, where I  thought it would be fun to write a story with that title. I kind of doubt it will be scary, but in honor of Halloween,  one of my favorite holidays, I thought I would borrow the phrase and see what happens.

I was home alone with my little dog Sam. The wind was howling through the trees, it almost sounded like moaning. Of course that was just my imagination. Usually storms don’t bother me. In fact I love them. But this one seemed different. There was a feeling in the air, it was…

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Posted in Blogging, postaday, writing

A Halloween Party ~ A Short Story

I’m reblogging one of my earliest Halloween stories. Tomorrow I will reblog another one and on Monday, I will have a brand new scary story for you! Stay tuned this weekend for some frightfully scary fun!

Halloween once more. Angela checked out the decorations one more time to make sure it all looked as she wanted. She gave a little dance around the room, her long dress swirling in the air. How she loved Halloween! The colors, the fun! She looked forward to this day every year!

She stopped her twirling in the middle of the room. She glanced over the long table that was set for the feast. It was her tradition to give a feast first, where her guests could eat and share stories and laughter. Then they would have dancing and drinks to cool them off from it all. The table was set perfectly, as always. The candles were lit and flickered merrily away. The food was looking good enough to be in one of those glossy magazines . The smells wafting upwards were tantalizing. Soon her guests would be coming in to…

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Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, postaday, stories, writing

The Prey (A very short story)

The Prey

She sits on the ridge overlooking the valley below. Still as silence, her ears pick up the tiniest rustling off to the left. Her nose twitches as she catches a slight smell of the nervous creature scuttling away from her.

Her ears twitch as she catches another sound, louder and less cautious than the small mouse she let get away. Her body tenses. Ready to leap or run, depending on whether the movement in front of her becomes prey or predator.

Crouching in the tall dry grass, she watches with intensity as a large shadow emerges from the bushes below. A human. She sniffs the air and catches a familiar scent. Her human. Is the human looking for her? Maybe.

She watches her human walk to a large rock and sits down. Suddenly she smells something heavenly. Food! Her human has food. How long has it been since she’s eaten? A long time. Her stomach gives off a small rumble. She is so hungry.

Cautiously she slinks toward the human, she doesn’t want to be spotted. Not yet. Not a sound she makes as she slowly gets nearer.

The human moves and she stops, shifting her body lower to the ground. Her muscles quiver with the effort to hold still. Her long tail behind her like a velvet rope, still.

Suddenly she hears a soft murmur. Her human, calling her name. She dares not move in case she’s spotted. Let the human call for her. She will respond when she’s ready, if at all. She hears her name once more, louder now. As if that will force her to move. No! She must be careful.

Once again she smells food, stronger now as she is closer. Ah, how nice it will be to eat once more. She must be strong. Slowly her foot moves forward. Then again. As if in slow motion her body slithers through the long grass toward the rock.

The human reaches down and places something on the rock next to them. A trick? To try to catch her unawares? Never! She is too smart for that. She stops and crouches down as the human moves slightly. The smell of whatever was left on the rock almost too much to bear.

She must have that food or she will perish! It’s been so long since she last ate! When was it? She tries to remember. She can’t think with that smell wafting down to her. She will have it. Now!

Her whole body starts to quiver. Her butt moving back and forth, her tail twitching. She must chance it. Human or no human she must have what smells so enticing! Her back-end moves faster, her legs tense, ready for the jump.

She springs! As she lands on the rock she has the piece of fish in her mouth within seconds. Ahhhh, such delicacy! Such flavors!

The human laughs.  “Slow down! You just ate this morning, silly cat.”

 

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Posted in Blog challenge, Fiction, Flash Fiction, postaday, stories, writing

Tuesday’s Challenge

Today’s challenge is going to be a little bit different. I’m going to give a line of dialog and then you can add to it. I think short and sweet should do. Use the line of dialog somewhere in your writings. Let’s keep it at 200 words or less. Have fun!

The line of dialog to use is: “I’m too old to start again.”

 

 

http://wprasek.com/
http://wprasek.com/

 

 

“Come on, Ruthie, it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t know Bertha, it might be too soon.”

“Now you know it’s been five long years since Albert’s death. You need to be livin’ a life again!”

“I’m too old to start again.”

“Nonsense! You’re only sixty-four years old, still a young woman.”

“Now who’s speakin’ nonsense, Bertha? Young woman! Don’t be tryin’ to talk me into something I’ll probably be sorry for later.”

“It’s only a dinner date. It’s not like you’re gonna marry the man.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve still got your man. It’s not so easy to start over. I never did like datin’.”

“Don’t look at it as a ‘date’, look at it as a free dinner and one you don’t have to cook.”

Ruthie closed her eyes, leaned back into her chair and sighed. Bertha had been trying to get her to go out and have some fun for ages now. She was getting tired of fighting her best friend of forty years. Maybe she was right. It had been five years since Alfred passed from a sudden heart attack. She just felt that she was betraying Alfred’s memory going out with another man. Not that anything would come of it. She was ok with being a widow.

“Ok, Bertha, I’ll do it.” Ruthie just hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blog challenge, Fiction, poetry, postaday, writing

It’s Tuesday, Another Challenge Day!

Hello, People. Hope your week is going well.

Today I thought I would give you a picture prompt. If you want to join me in this challenge you can take the picture and attach a story, poem, or whatever to it. Go crazy! Have fun! There is no word limit so go short or long.

I decided to write a poem. Well, what I consider a poem. Or something close to it. ha! Hope you enjoy.

 

birdcage

 

 

Paper bird in a cage dreaming to become real

To fly and soar and be free

To escape this cage of steel

Dreams are swirling like mist over a lake

Waiting to crystallize, to become wings

Feathered and light

Beautiful to behold

Up high it flies, no longer paper

No longer earth-bound

Dreams become reality, even for a paper bird in a steel cage

Instead of folded paper wings, feathers of magical dreams

 

 

 

 

It’s not much but it’s mine. Let me know if you join along! 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blog challenge, Fiction, Flash Fiction, postaday, writing

Another Tuesday, Another Challenge

Today is another writing challenge for me and for whoever wants to participate. I still haven’t decided what to call these challenges. So every week it’ll probably be called something different. haha! If you have any ideas on what to call them, please leave a comment with it. I’m open to ideas.

Today’s challenge:…….I went to the Random Story Title generator and just clicked it and thought….whatever comes up I’ll (and you also if you want!) write a flash fiction piece from that title. Luckily, the generator came up with a fun title. Let’s see what I can do with it. In five hundred words or less.

 

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The Haunted Attic

 

It was three o’clock in the morning and I should have been in bed asleep. Instead, here I was with a small flashlight and a thudding heart trying to climb the attic stairs so they wouldn’t creak and wake my foster family. This was my fifth foster family in less than six months. The system labeled me as a ‘difficult’ case. Hey, just because those other foster parents were lame wasn’t my fault. They always take the adult’s word over mine, so I finally stopped trying to state my case.

This couple I landed with a couple of weeks ago seem ok. I mean, unlike the other ones, they didn’t beat me or make fun of me. They were actually kind of nice. The woman, Julie, was funny most times. The man, James, was more reserved but never raised his voice and always spoke to me like I had brains. Which I do. Have brains. I just didn’t show them much at the Home for Abandoned Children, having brains meant someone older would try to beat the crap outta you.

The last foster parents acted like I was their personal servant or something. Always ordering me around and if I didn’t do want they wanted fast enough I’d get a slap or a kick. So I got even one day and put a dead fish in their bedroom. Hid it good too. Man, that smelled after a day or two. They called the Home and off I went again. It was worth the beating I took. That dead fish smell is gonna last a long time.

I finally reached the attic door. I turned the knob and was rewarded with a small click as the door opened a crack. For the last couple of weeks, I’d been hearing soft footsteps every night above my head. The attic was above my bedroom. I asked Julie about it one morning and she just laughed and said that the house was old and I was probably hearing the creaks and groans of an old house. Then she gave me a few cookies and told me to do my homework. She didn’t make fun of me. So I let it go.

Until now. I was laying in bed and those footsteps overhead woke me up. I know they are footsteps! So, I’m here checking it out.

I ease the door open and was glad that the door didn’t squeak. I shine the flashlight around and don’t see anything much. A lot of dust, a few cobwebs and stacked up boxes. Then I spotted something in the dust on the floor. Footsteps! I knew it! So, I slowly opened the door wider and slipped inside the attic and closed the door behind me. I saw a light switch next to me on the wall and flipped the overhead light on.

Footsteps were clearly visible in the dust of the attic floor. I followed them. They stopped at a small door behind some boxes. Taking a deep breath and with my hand shaking, I slowly opened that door and stepped through. Wow! Smiling I thought to myself, I’m going to behave so I can stay in this foster home. It has the coolest attic ever!

 

 

 

 

My short story went slightly over 500 words. Give it a whirl! Tag me if you do and let me know. Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, postaday, stories, Wednesday Whatever!, writing

Wednesday Whatever!

Today I thought I would do some actual creative writing. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I couldn’t think of what to write but then found this nifty page with a bunch of writing prompt generators. The one I’m using today is ‘Random First Line Generator‘.

I hope you enjoy my little flash fiction.

 

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There was something not quite right about the window. Nothing stood out odd but there was something ‘off’. Like it had some of that old glass in it that when you looked through it made things off-balance. Yet the realtor said it was a new house. Built about ten years ago. The reason Clair bought it was because of its location. It was in the middle of a small woodland area. Yet in the middle of a large city.

Clair fell in love with it as soon as she saw it. On the small size but just right for her. The woods surrounding it were full of birds and wildlife and Clair felt at home the first time she stepped foot inside. Which was odd as Clair was a city girl, born and raised. She loved the city with its bustle and hustle, people coming and going no matter what time of the day. Always something to do, something to see, people around. She never thought she would like a home like this one but she fell in love with it and bought it that same day.

Now that she was all moved in and pretty much settled she had time to think about that odd window. Clair sat on the sofa with a well-earned glass of red wine and looked at the window. Taking small sips of her wine she studied it. It looked like the other windows of the house. White trimmed, looking out the left side of the house. It didn’t have drapes on it nor window blinds. Which was kind of odd as all the other windows in the house had mini blinds on them and this one was bare.

Clair got up from the couch and walked in front of the window and looked out. Not having drapes or mini blinds wasn’t a problem as the window faced a rather dense thicket and she knew the sun never directly shown through this window. Now that she was thinking about the window, it was strange that this window was the only one on this side of the house. Walking closer to the window she saw her own reflection staring back at her. It was almost like she was looking in a mirror until she once again noticed the thicket behind her reflection. Standing close to the window she raised her hand and using just her index finger she put it close to the window pane, she didn’t touch it, just skimmed it as she watched a butterfly making its slow way through the thicket outside.

She always was fascinated by butterflies and her smile showed her joy in watching it. Once it disappeared she turned from the window and walked back to the couch. “Enough of these fanciful flights,” she muttered out loud.

She picked up her wine glass once more from the coffee table and glanced at the odd window. Something drew her to it so she slowly wandered over to stand in front of it again. Taking a small sip of wine she noticed a small smudge on the window pane. Clair thought she must have touched the pristine window after all. She drew a kleenex from her jeans pocket and stepping close to the window she wiped at the smudge her finger had left on the window.

Frowning she noticed the smudged fingerprint still there so she wiped harder. Clair’s eyes widened with sudden realization……the fingerprint was on the outside of the glass!

The glass slipped from her hand and the wine spilled over the floor like blood as Clair slowly moved her eyes from the fingerprint to her reflection. She drew in her breath as her reflection smiled and gave her a slight wave. She quickly stepped back when the reflection in the glass took a step closer to the window, pursed her lips and blew a fog onto the window. With her fingertip, Clair’s twin on the other side of the window slowly wrote out two words……..

‘Help Me’

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, postaday, Wednesday Whatever!, Word Fun, writing

Wednesday Whatever!

Today is going to be more word fun. I love words, letters, paragraphs, stories. There are so many people out there with so much talent for writing good stories. Sometimes though I like to read short stories or flash fiction. I love to write them too.

I think the shortest stories I’ve written were the six-word stories that you see sometimes as challenges. Now that truly is a challenge! It’s not so easy. I suppose the most famous six-word story is the one by Hemingway. I’m sure you are familiar with this one…. “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

In fact, I just did a six-word challenge not too long ago over on J.A. Allens blog. She has a challenge going every week over at her blog, why not check it out?

I went on the search for some six-word stories. Here’s some of what I found. I hope you enjoy them!

 

Wednesday

 

I’ll start out with my own six-word story that I did for J.A. Allens challenge.

Stormy night. Checked in Hotel California.

Now some of what I found.

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beautiful

 

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Can you write your own six-word story? Please do in the comment section, I would love to read them! 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Fiction, postaday, Wednesday Whatever!, writing

Wednesday Whatever! ~~~ Short story Part 2

Today on Wednesday Whatever, I thought I would continue with the short story I started about a month ago (has it been that long??). Several readers and friends asked for the next part, so here it is!

Hope you enjoy.

I haven’t come up with a title yet. Anyone have any ideas? Let me know!

Part one can be read …… here.

 

abandoned town

 

 

Marisa’s eyes scanned the surrounding areas. Trying to see if anything or anyone was in the shadows along the deserted street. The man remained quiet after his statement that she should join him. Who was he? How did he know her name? Why should she join him?

She liked being alone. She didn’t have to watch out for anyone but herself and that suited her just fine. Marisa stayed as still as the man down the block. Except her eyes took everything in. A person had to be prepared to move fast.

“I was told that someone had information on my family. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

The only thing that moved on the man was his mouth. His eyes never left Marisa since she walked out of the shadows.

“I know where your brother is. I can take you to him.”

Marisa studied the man. He had to be at least six-foot four. A big man, skin color that matched the chocolate bar in her bag. Eyes that gave nothing away. The sun shone on his skull with a filtered light through the leaves of the tree. He was a big man but there was a stillness in him that almost made him…restful. A strange word to associate with anyone nowadays. That’s what came to mind as she watched him. Restful.

“You know where he is? Have you talked to him?”

“Yes.”

That’s all he said. That one word. She wasn’t sure yet she trusted him. Something in her wanted to trust him. Yet, she held back.

“What’s his name? How did you meet him? Where is he? How did you know where to find me?” She asked the questions rapidly. Marisa wanted answers but it was also a test.

She watched him smile a slow spreading smile. It showed white teeth and a dimple in his right cheek. Nothing else moved but those well-defined lips. Then she heard a deep rumble of a chuckle drift on the breeze toward her.

“Girl you don’t trust easily and that’s what will keep you alive. His name is Matt. He’s twenty-seven years old and has an older sister. That’s you. I met him in the mountain’s west of here. He’s one of the smartest men I know.”

Matt? Could he really still be alive? Matt was what she used to call a dreamer. Smart, funny and loved to solve puzzles of any kind. How did he manage to survive so long? She loved her brother but she never would have thought he would survive the world going to hell.

The man got the details right, yet she still was cautious.

“Matt told me his sister once gave him a special gift. A small wood box. She told him to stick all his worries, doubts and hurts inside and the box would change them to dust to blow away in the wind.”

Tears filled her eyes and by sheer will power she stopped them from falling. She remembered giving him that box years ago. He had been a small boy, bullied in school to the point he wanted to die. She gave him the box and told him to never give up on himself. That he was gifted and that he would do great things one day. He believed her. She smiled.

“Ok, you know him. Just tell me where he is and I’ll find him.”

“Can’t do that.” He stated.

“Why not?”

“Matt’s a special friend of mine. I promised him that I would find you, if you were alive, and take you to him personally. I don’t break promises.”

Marisa frowned. He might know Matt and Matt might trust him. But, she wasn’t Matt and she preferred going alone.

“I do better alone.” She stated.

“Maybe you do. This one time though you are going to have trust someone. Me. Where your brother is, is skillfully hidden. You would never find it without me.”

Marisa’s hands clasped into fists. She hated anyone telling her should couldn’t do something. She watched the man watch her. He had a small smile as if he knew she was fighting telling him to go to hell and that she could find Matt herself.

After a few seconds she unclasped her fists, relaxed her shoulders and shrugged.

“Fine. I know the mountains can be tricky. At least let me know what your name is since you know mine.”

She heard the soft, deep chuckle once more as he moved towards her in slow, even paces. His brown eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter when he stopped in front of her, held a large hand out and said, “The name is Joseph. Telling you that you can trust me is not worth much. But, you can trust me, Marisa.”

“I got no choice, Joseph.”

“We all got choices.” He said as his hand engulfed Marisa’s smaller one.

“Come on, we got to move as we got company.”

Marisa gave a quick look behind the big man. Said one expletive and moved quickly to the shadows where she grabbed her backpack and followed Joseph deeper into the maze of broken buildings.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Fiction, Humor, postaday, Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday Whatever!

I’d like to introduce everyone to Aunt Maimie. Now, Aunt Maimie is the relative we all have in our family tree. You know the one. She’s the one that’s a bit…eccentric. A bit weird. A bit loud. A bit outspoken.

The other thing about Aunt Maimie is that you really don’t mind listening to her advice because it’s given with good intentions. Her heart is well-meaning, even if her stories sometimes go off track a bit.

Aunt Maimie is a widowed woman of undetermined age. She could be anywhere from fifty to ninety years old. All I know is she has been around forever and never seems to change much. She wears bright red lipstick. In fact, I have never seen her without her signature red lips and cat-eye shaped glasses.

She loves to tell stories. The stories all have one thing in common. Aunt Maimie. Her life. What she’s learned and is now passing on to you.

So without further ado…I give you…Aunt Maimie!

 

Aunt Maime's

 

Aunt Maimie’s Unsolicited Advice on Life, Love and Other Assorted Things

 

Never hook up with a ‘Mama’s Boy’. Trust me on this one, my pets. Long ago when I was young and naïve I did that very same thing.

Of course, it didn’t last long. It was doomed from the start. He was also thirteen years my senior. Can you imagine? Sure, I was young and looking for adventure. I thought an older man would give me some stories to tell when I got older.

Well, he did that! Just not in  the way he nor I would have wanted. So, I’m warning you. Do NOT hook up with a Mama’s boy!

I’m not going to tell you how I got to know this man. No, no. Some things a lady should keep private. Anyway, it only lasted six months. A tiny amount of time in my life.

He took me far away from my boring life and into his boring life. I have to laugh at that one, my pets. Oh my, yes.

Now his mother was this red-headed witch of a woman. She hated me on sight. I didn’t know he lived with his mother until it was too late. So there I was, ensconced in her home and in her life and in her son’s bed.

In all honesty, she never saw us in bed. I had my own room. He had his and she had hers. As soon as she left in the mornings for work, there he was, sliding into bed with me to have his fun. Ah, I was so young. I soon learned he not only left out the odd bit of him living with his mother, he also left out the bit about him being a jackass.

You see, my pets. He was also divorced with a teenage son. Seems he left out a lot of things about himself. His son was a good kid. I met him a few times during my brief stay. I liked him more than his father. Ha!

Now back to his mother. She was a hateful woman. Full of bitterness and anger at the world. She worked as a waitress in one of the restaurants at the airport. She loved her son….I mean she worshiped the man. It was unhealthy what was between them. What made it much stranger was she had two other children. Both nice people.

This one, though, she treated differently. Gives me the creeps just thinking about it all these many years past. Ok, let’s just skip that.

This woman had the cutest little dog. A Yorkie. Tiny little thing. Never could get friendly with the animal, though. He stayed hidden away most of the time. Unless the wicked witch was home. I quickly learned the reason why. This man was mean to it! I once heard him kick the little fellow clear across the room! That’s when I decided to start making plans to leave. I never could abide a person who was mean to animals.

Over the months I was there the mother grew more and more hateful toward me. I had less and less respect for the man and his mother. We disagreed about a lot of things. The man and I. The mother wouldn’t interfere, she managed to do her damage in other ways.

I do not believe in violence, my pets. I’m a peace-loving soul. This man made me resort to violence. One time only but still….it wasn’t pleasant and I still cannot believe I did it.

You see, he called your Aunt Maimie a nasty name during one of our….um…disagreements! Yes, he did. Well now, I couldn’t stand for that. So I sort of slapped him. Granted it was with a closed hand. I didn’t even know I was going to do it. He called me that vile name and I just turned around and decked him. Didn’t realize I had it in me. The look on his face while he was holding his sore jaw was almost worth it.

But, no, no, no. I do not approve of violence to resolve your difficulties. So take heed, my pets. Don’t do what I did.

I was so bored living there I used to go out for long walks. By myself. I would walk to the stores or just around the neighborhood. Got me some good exercise, I did. One benefit of that is I became quite fit, not that I needed to, mind you. It was just something to do to get out of that house.

Now back to his mama. That woman got to the point where she refused to feed me! Yes, she did. She told her son that I was his responsibility. To either send me back where I came from or feed me himself. Now I tell you, is that any way to treat someone? No, it isn’t. So I would walk to the grocery store every few days and spend what small amount of money I had to buy me a package of bologna and a loaf of bread.

That’s pretty much what I ate for those six months. Bologna and bread! Not a diet I would recommend, my pets. No, no. I was a proud woman and refused to ask for food. I wasn’t working, there were no jobs around and believe me, I looked.

I got my revenge on the mama one day. I still laugh about it all these many years later. Small of me, I’m sure. One rare occasion, she was being pleasant and she showed me a picture of herself when she was my age. Early twenties or so. She was beautiful. I had to admit that as much as it pains me to. She had glorious red hair back then and beautiful blue eyes. I looked at that picture and looked at her sitting across from me with the bitterness showing in her face and the meanness of her soul shining in her eyes and I said……”You used to be beautiful! What happened?”

Yes, I said it out loud! Oh, my. I was so young and naïve. It just burst out of my young mouth. Ah, to be so young and innocent again.

Well, my pets, I’m sure you can guess what happened after that incident. She became my mortal enemy after that day.

As for me, I couldn’t get out of that noxious home fast enough. So with what little money I had left I bought a bus ticket out of there!

No, I didn’t go home. I went and visited a relative in another state and there my pets is a whole different story! My life was just beginning to open up to many more of its lessons.

So do what your Aunt Maimie advises and don’t hook up with a mama’s boy! It will just lead to all sorts of trouble.

 

 

 

Do you have any questions about life, love or other assorted things you want to ask Aunt Maimie? Please do! Aunt Maimie will answer your questions in a later post and of course give you credit! Don’t be shy. She really is harmless….sort of.