Friday Fictioneers: Memories of June

As always, a giant thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for her weekly dedication. This week’s photo prompt comes from Sandra Crook (we’ve missed you). As always I welcome honest, constructive feedback; please a comment and tell me what you think.

on-the-beach-with-sandra

© Sandra Crook

 

Memories of June

Clang! The metal walker collided with the hall corner.

Jimmy, duck!

“Mr. Murray, you OK?”

A shudder ran down his bent spine, as he righted his footing.

That was close, Buddy! Nearly got us both. Eddie’s voice was tight.

“You’re doing fine; watch that post, dear.”

Incoming! Run!

“That’s a sharp hat you’re wearing again today. Where’d you get this pin?”

The smell of Eddie’s flesh and then silence, as the world erupted.

“Mr. Murray… the pin?”

“It was given to me for the seventieth memorial, at Omaha Beach.”

“Oh, nice. Now let’s get you to the dining room.”

(100 words)

Omaha Beach, June 1944

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GIPYKAPOW! Have you stopped by Tales From the Motherland Facebook page to spread some fairy dust? I’m grateful for each Like. Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (for real… well, he did. But he may have dropped me recently)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email,  no spam.

©2011-2019  All content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit and Link back to my work; plagiarism sucks!

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Friday Fictioneers: A Light In The Window

Unfortunately, I had surgery last week and was not able to get to as many stories as I would have liked. I apologize if you read mine, and I didn’t return the favor. I’ll try to do better this week! As always, a giant thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for her weekly dedication. This week’s photo prompt comes from Dale Rogerson. My story is a reflection of the current epidemic, completely avoidable with modern medicine. It’s easy to forget that measles once killed a million people a year. As always I welcome honest, constructive feedback.

winter-street-dale

A Light In The Window

Shivering, Trina held her hands before dying embers; the heat barely warmed her icy fingers. She blew the ash in hopes of stoking a flame.

Her brothers and parents were long gone, but she could still see her mother’s tears as Father led her away––

“Come dear, there is nothing else we can do. The measles; we must leave here.”

“Hey Joe! Look at the top floors of the Hubbard building; do you see that light?”

“Don’t be silly; it’s been abandoned for a hundred-and-fifty years! It’s just lights off the snow.”

“Don’t leave me!” Trina cried, year after year.

(Exactly 100 words)

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GIPYKAPOW! Have you stopped by Tales From the Motherland Facebook page to spread some fairy dust? I’m grateful for each Like. Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (for real… well, he did. But he may have dropped me recently)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email,  no spam.

©2011-2019  All content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit and Link back to my work; plagiarism sucks!

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Friday Fictioneers: A Solitary Woman

Thanks for your incredible commitment Rochelle Wisoff-Fields! This week’s photo is provided by  Roger Bultot. Despite this beautiful, atmospheric photo, I was stuck this week. I’ve used a brief portion of a short story I’ve been working on. It fit the scene. Honest, constructive feedback is always welcome.

cloister-roger-b

© Roger Bultot

 

A Solitary Woman

 

The woman stirred her coffee and gazed out the window at her garden.

“I should have cut back those irises weeks ago,” she said to no one.

Her dog glanced in her direction, ready and waiting. When she spoke to the window, he stayed put.

“I can’t believe it’s the end of October already…

Where have the weeks gone?

Hmm, Roosh, old boy!”

This was the cue: her gaze moving to him; her voice sliding up three octaves. The black lab mix got to his feet, tail wagging –– thump, thump, thump­–– and came over to nuzzle her hand.

(98 words)

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GIPYKAPOW! Have you stopped by Tales From the Motherland Facebook page to spread some fairy dust? I’m grateful for each Like. Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (for real… well, he did. But he may have dropped me recently)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email,  no spam.

©2011-2019  All content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit and Link back to my work; plagiarism sucks!

 

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Friday Fictioneers: Caught In Your Web Of Lies

Three steps forward, two back still equals forward! But still not writing as much as I’d like. Thanks for always showing up, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields! This week’s photo is provided by  Ronda Del Boccio. Honest, constructive feedback is always welcome.

trees-ronda-del-boccio

© Ronda Del Boccio

 

Caught In Your Web of Lies

Last night was amazing! You sure know how to make me feel special, babe. Your body’s so hot! Baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day––

Alice re-read the last two lines of the email and slammed the laptop shut. Her eyes burned with tears as she glanced at the photos along the mantel, then ran to the bathroom to vomit.

Two hours later she opened the computer again.

John, I’ve taken what I need from our bank account. Call your baby. I’m through.

Alice hit send, and left her home for good.

(Word count: 92)

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GIPYKAPOW! Have you stopped by Tales From the Motherland Facebook page to spread some fairy dust? I’m grateful for each Like. Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (for real… well, he did. But he may have dropped me recently)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email,  no spam.

©2011-2019  All content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit and Link back to my work; plagiarism sucks!

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Gray on Gray…

I posted this five years ago, and while so much has changed in the lives of my three kids, the feelings I wrote here are just as strong, just as real. I now have two grandchildren–– something I could barely fathom then. My life has settled into one of reconnecting with my kids, not being tied to them or living with or near them.

It is also striking and interesting to read through the comments again, and realize which connections I’ve sustained and which I’ve lost… thru’ my less than active blogging. Some of the folks who read this then and commented, have now seen their wee ones fledge as well. Oh, the earth just continues to turn. And we survive it.

TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND

Little boots, sit by the door... waiting for children who have grown up. Little boots, sit by the door… waiting for children who have grown up.

I am sitting at a beautiful Inn on an island in the San Juan Islands. It’s as magical and beautiful, as that sounds. At a writer’s retreat for the weekend, I’ve had trouble writing– lulled by the stunning beauty around me, and the welling of gratitude in my heart. The wet snow is pattering on the roof; music plays softly– a soundtrack of songs that speaks to how I’m feeling. I look dreamily out at the gray sky, the gray water, the darker gray islands, with only the evergreens to break the monochrome palette… and my emotions overwhelm me. I gaze out; I blink, and it all comes back to me.

As I sit, an email comes in to inform me that my twenty-one year old son has claimed the miles from one of my airline accounts…

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Friday Fictioneers: Fade To Black

Well, getting back to my real life after 6 weeks with the grands and my daughter/son-in-law took a bit more than I expected; I missed last week. I came home to a million tiny fires to tend and our 23rd Oscar costume party. Glad to get back to some flash fiction and the fabulous Fictioneers! Thanks Rochelle for always tending the fires here. Thanks to CE Ayre for this weeks photos.

ce3

© CEAyr

 

Fade To Black

“I don’t believe in foolish superstitions.” Ella swatted the air with disdain. “Black cats are only that: black cats. No different than a white cat, or one with spots. It’s nothing.”

Brian narrowed his eyes as she spoke. “Just being together is a risk; your family will never allow it. This seems like another sign.”

She laughed. “My family can’t stop us. Don’t let them get in your head.”

“Seriously? Tell me again what your brothers did to the last guy you got serious with–– then tell me not to worry about a black cat blocking our getaway.”

(98 words)

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GIPYKAPOW! Have you stopped by Tales From the Motherland Facebook page to spread some fairy dust? I’m grateful for each Like. Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (for real… well, he did. But he may have dropped me recently)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email,  no spam.

©2011-2019  All content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit and Link back to my work; plagiarism sucks!

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BLUE

As my final days in Israel wind down, I know I will miss my beautiful grandsons. At three, A is the light of my life, and his new baby brother has been a dream to cuddle. No doubt, the inspiration for this story comes from the reminder of what it is to be a young parent.

CORRECTION: Ok, here’s a funny side story. Here in Israel, Shabbat starts at sundown on Friday, and everyone has at least half the day off. Then Saturday is a full day off as well.  The work week begins again on Sunday–– Sunday is like Monday at home. This throws me off a little every week when I’m here. Maybe because I’m preparing to go home soon, my brain really got turned around completely, as this week I’ve been ahead by a day since Sunday.

All day today, I was sure it was Wednesday. Wednesday is Friday Fictioneers day. So I went to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ page, saw this photo and ran with it. I put it up and even added it to the InLinkz on her page… A few hours later, I woke in a panic, and realized I had the wrong day, and the wrong writing challenge.

But, I don’t have the heart to pull this down.

Ironically, sometimes two wrongs do make a right. After a year of being stuck in a funky deep, dark, writer’s block… I’m apparently unstuck! Thanks for the photo, Rochelle; I’ll try again tomorrow.

IT GETS BETTER! So… I took down the Friday Fictioneers tags, I wrote that correction and I waited for Wednesday to come, which comes here (in Israel) 8 hours before it comes to Rochelle’s home. Dale watched the whole thing transpire, as I slept.

Now it’s Wednesday, here and there. I just saw the photo prompt and voilà; it works for this story! The underwater photo is the wrong photo, one of Rochelle’s photos for Pegman, but the one that inspired my story. The official Friday Fictioneers photo prompt, below the underwater photo is the correct one and works quite nicely with my story… Hmm, maybe it’s THREE wrongs make a right? Sleep deprivation leads to creativity? Or something like that. I’ve given credit for both photos, and hopefully Rochelle finds this as amusing as I do! I know she loves kismet as much as me.

If you read all of the preamble, bravo for you! It’s amusing, if not convoluted. Many thanks to Rochelle for her passionate commitment to Friday Fictioneers, I’m so grateful for this happy writing spot. As always, I welcome honest, constructive feedback. Please leave a comment.

undersea-st-thomas-4

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

jhc-asylum

©J Hardy Carroll

Blue

“Honey, what is it?” Jared stroked Ellie’s cheek, as she stared blankly out the window. “You can tell me; why were you crying?”

She shrugged, and turned her face away from his earnest gaze.

“I don’t understand; everything’s so wonderful. Why are you sitting here by yourself?”

Her eyes filled with tears again, but she remained silent.

“Most people would die to live in this neighborhood, we have a beautiful, healthy new son; what could be wrong?”

Ellie struggled with words. She just wanted to curl up and watch the sky.

“I just feel so blue,” she whispered.

(98 words)

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GIPYKAPOW! Have you stopped by Tales From the Motherland Facebook page to spread some fairy dust? I’m grateful for each Like. Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (for real… well, he did. But he may have dropped me recently)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email,  no spam.

©2011-2019  All content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit and Link back to my work; plagiarism sucks!

 

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