Category Archives: Writer

Junction (SIGNS: #AtoZChallenge)

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JunctionNothing came crashing down, this time. Paul just had that feeling that it was time to move on. Things weren’t bad, but…

Not the first time he’s felt that way; he had hoped that he wouldn’t feel like that ever again.

But he does; causing him just a little bit of stress and anxiety over these feelings.

Paul never understood how his father could do the same job, follow essentially the same pattern of his life, for as long as he did, without it taking it’s toll.

Looking back, he saw  it always did.

Time for him to move on.

 

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Check out other bloggers in the A to Z Challenge.

26 posts during the month of April, every day but Sundays.

April 1st starts with the letter A

April 30th ends with the letter Z

Enjoy!

Information (SIGNS: #AtoZChallenge)

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Information“I don’t know if I can help you, ” she said. “I don’t know if there is anything I could say that would fix anything.”

He sighed. “I’m not asking you to fix anything. I’m asking you to just listen. Let me vent; just an ear. I just need to tell you how I feel.”

Her brow crinkled; her lips quivered.

“You keep trying to shut me up!” she barked. “You keep trying to control what I can or can’t say.”

“How did we get here? That is not what I was saying or wanted.”

The silence that followed said volumes.

 

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Check out other bloggers in the A to Z Challenge.

26 posts during the month of April, every day but Sundays.

April 1st starts with the letter A

April 30th ends with the letter Z

Enjoy!

Hill Blocks View (SIGNS: #AtoZChallenge)

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Hill Blocks ViewAndersville thrived at the base of Anders Hill. Except for the wander lust of the young who felt there was always something better beyond the town, just over the hill, most of the residents lived their entire lives satisfied where they were.

Kelly would, when time allowed, sit at different angles around the hill, painting. She took in the colors, the landscape that  changed with the seasons, the wild life that inhabited the hill, her neighbors, and she would paint.

She saw the world majestic in this hill, in the beauty that was presented.

She crafted poetry on her canvases.

 

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For the April 2014 A to Z Blog Challenge, you will find a story a day (except Sundays) from me. A to Z: Staring with A on Tuesday, April 1st and ending with Z on Wednesday, April 30th.

Signs is my theme for this year’s outing. Road signs, building signs, warning signs…Signs alert us to a multitude of messages. My plan is to use the alphabet through Signage, but not to stick to what the sign was originally intended to convey. So, the genre of story writing, and styles, of the posts will vary as my mood and interpretation sees fit. Possibly a poem or two. We’ll see.

I’m also trying something more of a challenge: each post will be a Drabble. A Drabble is 100 Words Exactly.

I hope you enjoy the short pieces.

Gravel (SIGNS: #AtoZChallenge)

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GravelBill looked at his elbow in the mirror. It was dry,rough; the scars that crossed his skin were a reminder when he was Billy and he ran wild with youth.

He remembers sneaking out of the bunk after lights out  were called. He and two buddies made their ways along the dark paths,  to the mess hall kitchen. They tried the door, hoping for a late night snack.

Lights went on; with a shout they were  chased by counselors.

Billy slid and fell on the gravel path. His elbow a bloody mess.

Bill looked in the mirror, and smiled.

 

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For the April 2014 A to Z Blog Challenge, you will find a story a day (except Sundays) from me. A to Z: Staring with A on Tuesday, April 1st and ending with Z on Wednesday, April 30th.

Signs is my theme for this year’s outing. Road signs, building signs, warning signs…Signs alert us to a multitude of messages. My plan is to use the alphabet through Signage, but not to stick to what the sign was originally intended to convey. So, the genre of story writing, and styles, of the posts will vary as my mood and interpretation sees fit. Possibly a poem or two. We’ll see.

I’m also trying something more of a challenge: each post will be a Drabble. A Drabble is 100 Words Exactly.

I hope you enjoy the short pieces.

 

Falling Rock (SIGNS: A to Z Challenge)

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fallingrockHe was told how strong he was; how his hope and courage in the face of such overwhelming circumstances just proved what lay inside of him. Wasn’t it a wonder than he could still turn to others, offer them gratitude, peace, friendship.. support, that is showed the brave and good heart inherent in his being?

He wondered how much stronger he could be. He felt his footing slipping away, that foundation eroding with  each anxiety-driven  pounding of his heart.   He knew it was a precarious balancing act.

He had been balancing for so very long.

He didn’t want to fall.

 

 

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For the April 2014 A to Z Blog Challenge, you will find a story a day (except Sundays) from me. A to Z: Staring with A on Tuesday, April 1st and ending with Z on Wednesday, April 30th.

Signs is my theme for this year’s outing. Road signs, building signs, warning signs…Signs alert us to a multitude of messages. My plan is to use the alphabet through Signage, but not to stick to what the sign was originally intended to convey. So, the genre of story writing, and styles, of the posts will vary as my mood and interpretation sees fit. Possibly a poem or two. We’ll see.

I’m also trying something more of a challenge: each post will be a Drabble. A Drabble is 100 Words Exactly.

I hope you enjoy these short pieces.

Electric Vehicle Charging (SIGNS; A to Z Challenge)

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Electric Vehicle ChargingDoori stood impatiently  in line waiting to recharge. She was going to be late for school again, but she had used up most of the juice last night at Perfect’s party, and it was either be late or fizzle out during Futures. Again.

Finally;  the charging pads. Quicknip, she plugged her feet and hands into the appropriate slots after zipping in the lead to her left temple. Doori closed her eyes as recharge went into overdrive. Tunes played, game control returned, her body whirred.

Creds will be through the roof, and she knew she’d hear about it.

She didn’t care.

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For the April 2014 A to Z Blog Challenge, you will find a story a day (except Sundays) from me. A to Z: Staring with A on Tuesday, April 1st and ending with Z on Wednesday, April 30th.

Signs is my theme for this year’s outing. Road signs, building signs, warning signs…Signs alert us to a multitude of messages. My plan is to use the alphabet through Signage, but not to stick to what the sign was originally intended to convey. So, the genre of story writing, and styles, of the posts will vary as my mood and interpretation sees fit. Possibly a poem or two. We’ll see.

I’m also trying something more of a challenge: each post will be a Drabble. A Drabble is  100 Words Exactly.

Hope you enjoy the stories.

Dead End (SIGNS; A to Z Challenge)

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Dead EndHaunting did not come with a manual. That had infuriated Ana after she became aware of her new “life.” It  turned to anger, which became wearisome, and then settled into a heightened state of constantly being chagrined.

Stumbling upon things: her best friend (Di) and her husband (Tim) “comforting” each other just a day after the funeral; her son, being that “mean  bastard” she had heard but never wanted to believe; friends and relatives who stopped calling Tim less than a week after she was “gone.”

This cul-de-sac needed a good haunting. Ana was determined to give it her all.

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For the April 2014 A to Z Blog Challenge, you will find a story a day (except Sundays) from me. A to Z: Staring with A on Tuesday, April 1st and ending with Z on Wednesday, April 30th.

Signs is my theme for this year’s outing. Road signs, building signs, warning signs…Signs alert us to a multitude of messages. My plan is to use the alphabet through Signage, but not to stick to what the sign was originally intended to convey. So, the genre of story writing, and styles, of the posts will vary as my mood and interpretation sees fit. Possibly a poem or two. We’ll see.

I’m also trying something more of a challenge: each post will be a Drabble. A Drabble is 100 Words Exactly.

Hope you enjoy the stories.

Blasting Zone Ahead (SIGNS; A to Z Challenge)

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BlastThe mortar shell leveled the wall that Davion and Marcus had been using as a shield only moments before. A shrapnel of rock whizzed through Marcus’s right cheek, lacerating it to the muscle just below the skin. His blood seeped through his fingers as they ran, looking for any place that would be safe for a few seconds.

Davion jumped over a cascade of blown bricks and into a snipers bullet. He spun like a top, a final dance move of ungainly grace.

Down they both went.

Marcus heard his name, and “Move on! Move on!”

Immobilized, he already had.

 

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For April 2014, you will find a story a day (except Sundays) from me. A to Z: Staring with A on Tuesday, April 1st and ending with Z on Wednesday, April 30th.

Signs is my theme for this year’s outing. Road signs, building signs, warning signs…Signs alert us to a multitude of messages. My plan is to use the alphabet through Signage, but not to stick to what the sign was originally intended to convey. So, the genre of story writing, and styles, of the posts will vary as my mood and interpretation sees fit. Possibly a poem or two. We’ll see.

I’m also trying something more of a challenge as was laid down in front of me by my SO: “Why not do it as a drabble or other word limited flash fiction style?” she said. A Drabble has different definitions, if you look online: the one I am choosing is the 100 Words Exactly rule.

Came The Wind

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leavesThe golden, brittle leaf brushed over the top of her shoe, resting  in mid air for a moment. Another gust blew, picking up the leaf and spiraling it away, under a sky filled with darkened clouds. Alice shivered in her coat, the hem overlapping her knee high skirt. She bunched the top together, clutching it closed, having already pulled up the collar. She stared down at the marble and stone work that lay around her, the past staring back up at her. More leaves blew past her and the others, milling around for a moment, then taking off to skitter across the grounds.

The side comments seemed endless to Alice. A few suffered in silence, getting hugged, heads leaning against shoulders for support, comfort. Alice drifted from one group to another, paying attention to the tone of the voices more than the actual words. The elder set, the few who could barely walk, stayed by the cars. They huddled near the aunt who always needed to be the center of attention, her husky voice talking about anything but what lay before them. A few tears, clutched tissues, and a dreary day filled them all.

The service done, the discussions turned to who was following whom, where they were going, who had to leave. Hugs and kisses were passed around, and the car doors opened, and then closed. One by one, the cars pulled away.

Alice looked on. As the last car left, a vortex of leaves swirled together in the spot left vacant, a mini tornado of golds and oranges and browns. Alice turned to watch the receding tail lights pass through the gates.

The leaves dropped to the ground.

Chromatic Labyrinth

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Piano-Wallpaper-music-24173621-1280-800Carlo, Prince and Count, imagined his wife in bed with another man. Not just any man, but his friend, the Duke of Andria.  Carlo noticed the Duke’s eyes always found the figure of Donna Maria more than pleasing. He noticed this look too often from the Duke, and he felt that the looks were too often returned . While Donna Maria protested her innocence, Carlo knew, in his heart, that she had already betrayed him…and would continue, this most vile of betrayals.

Unless…

These thoughts assailed Carlo as he pushed himself to compose. Music was his life-he knew that-but it, too, betrayed him.  His madrigals were politely received in court but ultimately…they were misunderstood by most and dismissed, mostly behind his back, but oh, how gossip reaches even the most closed off of ears!

He locked himself in his music room, the only living space he would occupy until he had finished this composition. Receiving food intermittently from his servant,  barely touching any of it, Carlo would not lie down to sleep, only dozing at his piano.  Nothing came out of his demand on the keys, tinkering, chords splitting into discordance instead of magnificence. Four days, and his mind wandered away from the task he set for himself.

Exhausted and light headed, it was on the latter part of the fourth day (although that was later told to him, as time had lost all meaning to him inside his cell) that the visions came. Donna Maria, nude, appeared to him. He stared across the room where she stood, and all his feelings for her rose to a grand level: lust, hatred, love, agony, pain, ecstasy…and rage. Word-paintings came to him. She sprawled, ever  so close, just beyond his reach. He used the keys of his instrument as knives, slashing down, sliding, pounding down until his fingers nails cracked and broke, leaving droplets of red on the ivory.

During all this, Donna Maria cavorted around the piano. She laughed in his face, touching herself, gliding across the room, behind him, leaping over or crawling under his piano. She would reach out to him, then pull away, her long black hair fanning out over the keyboard where he would try to grab a hold, only to have it whisked away. She twirled, and he played, and lost himself in his fury.

Every path he took drew him in deeper. He would sidle into a melody that would change, taking him in a new direction: most of them ending in a frustrating blockage, where he would only be able to retrace what he did, and go another way. And another. And another. Lost, in a place where meter and structure had no more sense, no meaning, and left him more desperate with each stroke of the keys.

Carlo was later told he unbarred the lock on his room and flung himself into the main foyer. Glassy eyed, he stalked past his ever waiting servant. Down the hall he  went, banging open the door to the armory, coming out with a saber in one hand and a gun in the other. The servant tried to talk to his master but was gutted, as witnessed by one of the maids who had come out to the main hall at the noise being made.

Cowering behind one of the marble columns, the maid heard her master rush up the stairs, a door bang open, and then another series of bangs as the gun went off, and screams from her mistress. She recounted that she heard sharp swishing noises, too many to count, her mistress’s cries loud and piercing, then fading, and then nothing.

Someone had summoned the constables, and the Sargent Major, known to all as a stable and strong man, could not report what he witnessed without feeling ill for quite awhile. Yes, he had seen battlefields, but the frenzy of the Count was like unto a butcher’s den. The Countess Donna Maria, and the Duke of Andria…

Carlo, Prince and Count, would stand trial for what he had done, but, in the end, he was freed. Money and ranking took care of that. He exiled himself from the city, trying to leave blood feuds and vendettas behind him. He withdrew more into his music, more into himself, and while he was lost in a complex labyrinth of creative madness, he composed.

And Donna Maria…she twirled around him for a very, very long time.