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BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Reposting from 2020 for this week’s
#WRITEPHOTO challenge.

After much hard work and determination, Anthony was in a good place in life. He loved his job and enjoyed the people he interacted with every day. He had to make some sacrifices along the way but he managed to find the time to mix business with pleasure. Anthony knew if he played his cards right he’d be next in line for a promotion. Having that new title would open many doors for him.

During a routine meeting, Anthony was surprised by a bit of news. He was informed that the Rome office needed some help for a few months; since he had worked in Rome previously and spoke fluent Italian, he was specifically requested for the temporary position. At first Anthony wasn’t thrilled about the move and disruption in his life but when his boss told him it would be “a feather in his cap”, he accepted the assignment.

Flying into Leonardo da Vinci Airport always gave Anthony a rush. He loved Italy and had many friends there. One person in particular had been on his mind the entire flight: Gabriella. It had been more than two years since he had seen her; they texted frequently after his last trip to Italy but hadn’t communicated in quite a while. He longed to see her and hoped she felt the same.

Anthony quickly assessed the situation in the office: the staff’s computer skills were practically nonexistent. Time, patience, new MacBooks and a good teacher were desperately needed. He was given approval to order whatever was necessary to get the office functioning properly. Once that was done Anthony was free to contact Gabriella.

He sent her a text:

“Ciao, bella! I’m in Rome and would love to see you. Can we meet?”

“Antonio! I’ve missed you! Come to my place tonight. I will cook dinner. You remember my address?”

“Si, si! Everything about you is carved in my memory! I’ll be there at 7:00. Ciao, cara!”

Done with his first day on the job, Anthony hurried to the pensione where he was staying. He showered, changed his clothes and stopped on the way to Gabriella’s to buy a bottle of wine. He knew seeing her was terribly wrong; he was already in a committed relationship but he couldn’t stay away.

Pushing aside the gate to Gabriella’s house, Anthony raced down the narrow passageway to her red door. She stood there waiting for him. His heart skipped a beat as it did every time he saw her. She pulled him inside, closing the door behind her. “Mi amore” she whispered, seductively nibbling at his ear. He scooped her up in his arms, whisking her off to the bedroom.

Life for Anthony was a dynamic mixture of business and pleasure – wrapped up with work every day and making love to Gabriella every night. The days became weeks then months. The staff learned well and was now up to speed. Anthony’s time in Italy drew to an end and he would leave Gabriella once again. Their last night together would remain with him forever. He had many lovers but none as captivating as Gabriella.

Anthony’s superiors gave him permission to visit his parents in Westchester County before returning to his job in Manhattan. He had much to think about during his flight and knew he had one serious matter to resolve: he needed to clear his conscience. He hailed a taxi at Kennedy Airport and told the driver his destination. When they arrived Anthony gave the cabbie $20.00 and suggested he get some breakfast, then come back in an hour to pick him up.

Alone in the early morning, Anthony stood outside for a few moments gathering his thoughts. He walked up to the dimly lit house and rang the doorbell. As he waited Anthony gazed at the beautiful old church next door. His reverie was abruptly broken when the porch light came on. In the doorway stood his mentor and confidant, Monsignor Valenti.

“Anthony! This is a surprise! I didn’t know you were in town. Come in, come, in! I’ll make some coffee.”

“It’s good to see you, Monsignor, but this is not a social call.”

“What then? Official church business?” asked the monsignor curiously.

“No” Anthony replied softly. “It’s personal. I’ve come for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I have broken my vows and must confess my sins.”

The monsignor sighed heavily. “Come. Let’s go to the chapel, Father Anthony.”

In a hushed tone, the errant priest began “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned” as the monsignor quietly closed the door behind him.

NAR © 2020

#WRITEPHOTO – Red
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YOU ROCK!

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© NAR

I GOT TO SEE THE STONES TODAY!

WHILE THEY’RE NOT A PANACEA FOR ALL MY ILLS, THEY SURE DO PUT SOME PEP IN MY STEP.

I WONDER IF THEY’RE GOING TO BE APPEARING IN THE SAME PLACE TOMORROW?

HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE!

NAR © 2023
44 words

Weekend Writing Prompt #324 – Panacea
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KINK IT UP

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Ayr/Gray

“C’mon in, toots! Don’t be shy! Lemme take a gander at ya.
Stand by the window, would ya? Yeah, that’s it.
Give us a little twirl. Yeah, just like that. Now back to me and lean into it.
Nice rear view!
Yeah, darlin’, you’ll do just fine.
Lemme paint the scene for ya, cookie.
You’re the newbie on the derby circuit, a real cutie from Nowhereville. Them other broads, they ain’t happy to see ya knowing their skatin’ days are fadin’ fast. They’re tough, the type that’ll chew up and spit out a sweet piece of sugar like yourself.
Yeah, you’re a timid little thing but ya can skate circles ‘round them other jammers. Besides, ya caught the eye of Mr. Big and he likes what he sees.
Ya with me so far, baby cakes?
Now we’re gonna take some shots. Go get dolled up while I ready the Polaroid.
That’s it, honey. Put on them skates.
Now it’s time for a little fun. Undo them buttons on your blouse and tie it in front under them boobs. Yeah, just like that.
Oh, man! Ya got the goods, alright.
Lose that hair thingy. Let them chestnut curls flow.
Wow! You’re a regular Daisy Duke!
This here fan’s gonna blow them curls, just like skatin’ ’round the oval.
Ok, hands on knees, arch that back and pucker up.
Oh, baby Baby BABY! You’re a natural!
Now we’re gonna kink it up.
Mr. Big’s gonna love these!
Big smile and say … ‘Bondage!’”

NAR © 2023
250 Words

The Unicorn Challenge-12/08/23
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THE CIRCLE OF FEAR

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

We bring children into this world.
We nourish and provide for them as best we can.
We watch over them as they sleep at night and hold the back of their new bicycle as they learn to ride a two-wheeler.
We protect them with our lives, watch them grow and eventually they leave the inner sanctum of heart and home to walk among the wolves.
They marry, have children of their own and radiate joy.
The circle of life.
We pray for them, worry about them, rejoice in their accomplishments and weep for their inevitable heartbreaks.
Our parental primal instincts emerge and we struggle against the riptides of life to shelter them from the unwelcome eventualities of the world.
But we cannot.
And that is the greatest fear of all.

NAR © 2023

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PASS THE BATON

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

I have had the great honor of being asked to join in on the pass the baton challenge started by Marla on the first of August.

The link back to the origin post is here: https://marladragon.wordpress.com/2023/08/01/august-passthebaton-challenge/

*****

This is the story so far:

Marla:

“I can’t meet you tonight. The group before me was late completing their portion and I have to finish my part by Friday. It’s going to be three very long days.”

“They can’t make you work long hours like that! You should quit.”

“It’s my job, and I like it. I’m not going to quit.”

“I wouldn’t work those hours, I would quit. You should too.”

“It’s a contract and I have to complete my work. I need to go.”

“It doesn’t make sense that your contract needs to be completed by Friday. They can’t force you to complete it. You need to have a life too. Tell them to go to hell, they can get it by next Friday.”

“That’s not how it works. It’s a contract and I have to fulfill those obligations.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You should quit.”

“I’m not going to quit. It does make sense.”

“Make it make sense then, because I still vote for quit. I would.”

“You’re not me. I work by contract. My company receives a contract and they assign me. If I don’t complete any part of the project within the set time-frame, they will remove me from the contract and replace me. It’s really not that complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense. Just quit.”

“I can’t discuss this right now, I have to work. I am NOT quitting.”

“You shouldn’t work those hours. It doesn’t make sense that they want you to. Seriously, just quit.”

“I gotta go.”

Di:

Jake was angry when he terminated the call. A contract was a contract, and he was very good at what he did. However, quitting was not an option.

He’d told Stella in the beginning that his job could be very demanding and he may have to be away at times. In many ways, though, she was turning out to be more demanding than his job, and that would have to be addressed relatively soon. Thank god they weren’t married.

He was living a double life and his cover stories were always plausible as he had excellent credentials and was a whizz when it came to computer software. This contract was important, and he had three days to plan, prepare and execute.

Finishing the last of his coffee, he packed up his gear and headed for the departure lounge. His flight took off in an hour and he needed to get some rest. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her it was going to be a very long three days.

Fandango:

Exhausted, Jake closed his eyes and fell asleep before the flight left the ground. He was awakened about an hour later when the pilot announced over the PA system that the plane would be turning around and returning to Dallas because a major winter storm had closed the Denver airport. The guy in the seat next to Jake said, “Dammit, it’s my anniversary tomorrow and if I miss it, my wife is going to kill me.”

Jake looked at the man in the seat next him. He knew the guy wasn’t being literal, but what he said amused Jake. Because in Jake’s case, if he didn’t get to Denver tonight, he might not be able to execute his contract in time, and Jake knew what the consequences of failure to execute his contact would be.

His mind started racing, examining his options and determining which would have the highest probability of success. Jake knew he had to act quickly to have any chance of pulling this contract off, and he came up with a plan that just might work. But once the plane landed back in Dallas, he knew he had no time to lose.

Jim:

Jake knew that for just under $200, Jake could take an Amtrak train to get from Dallas to Denver. The train only runs twice a day, and it is just over a 40-hour trip. The first one leaves at 11:00am and if he doesn’t make that he can catch the other one that leaves at 3:00pm. Jake realized that bad weather could delay trains, but it is more likely that a train will get through a bad storm than other modes of transportation, however he could relax more on a train, as he really wasn’t fond of flying in a snowstorm. Being a seasoned traveler, Jake knew that airlines are always delaying or canceling flights when they determine that the weather conditions make it unsafe to take off or land and he wasn’t too worried about the take off, but an icy landing was something that he wanted no part of.

A storm like this is an act of God and even though his contract needed to be completed by Friday, as long as he was making progress toward the goal, the company would understand. Since he couldn’t be sure when the next plane would take off, the train seemed like hoe only option. Jake took a taxi from the airport to the train station, and he was able to get a ticket for the 11:00am departure. This meant that Jake would be in Denver on Friday at 3:00am and he could complete the assignment by the skin of his teeth, making the best out of bad situation. Jake got his own private compartment on the train which was called a Roomette with a comfy seat, a bed, WiFi and outlets with a fold-down table for his laptop and then he heard the conductor shout “All aboard” as the train left the station.

Carol Anne:

Jake sat looking out the window. The weather was so bad, he really hoped the train would get to Denver on time, so he would be able to complete his assignment.

He took out his laptop and began to look at his notes.

He had so much to do and so little time to do it!

His phone began to buzz.

“Oh shit”, he said loudly. “I wonder who that is?”

He picked up the phone and there it was, her number, flashing on his screen.

His hand hovered over the answer button. Should he answer her? She’d be expecting answers. He didn’t have any for her.

He took the plunge and hit the answer button. “Hello?”

He heard sobbing on the other end of the phone.

“Jake?”, Celia sobbed…something terrible has happened!”

Christine:

This was getting to be too much. First he had Stella on his back about quitting a job which, although he didn’t tell her this, was extremely lucrative. Next, his flight gets cancelled and he’s going to arrive right before the deadline, making it impossible to have any time to relax. Now, Celia! And Celia in tears? Jake started to feel a lead weight weigh down his stomach like a thousand pound rock!

“Celia, what’s wrong? Stop crying and talk to me.”

“Jake, remember I told you I was going to meet my brother in the city this weekend?”

“Yeah, did something happen?”

“Jake, he just messaged me and said that he won’t be around this weekend anymore and that he won’t be able to get together for a long time. A long time! What is that supposed to mean?”

Jake was happy Celia couldn’t see his face. Yes, it would be a long time before she saw Clint again, well unless she died soon too! Celia had no idea what her brother was into and if she knew she wouldn’t want to see him anyhow. But, the contract specifically said that Clint would be in Denver for dinner Friday night. That was when it was all supposed to go down. Now here he was on a train to Denver for what? To go to a job that couldn’t be completed? Of course he couldn’t say any of this to Celia.

“Celia, I’m sure your brother has a good reason for needing to cancel. You know, I was thinking about coming out to Denver to see you both. Now, maybe it’s not such a good idea.”

“Oh, Jake, come see me still! I will be so lonely now that Clint isn’t going to be coming.”

Jake didn’t want to tell her that it was the last time she was going to be seeing Clint anyways. But now what was he going to do about finishing up the contract? Would they believe him when he said the target wasn’t there? This was turning out to be a true shit-show and he was somehow in the middle of it. All he wanted was for Clint to be at the restaurant in Denver Friday night. Beyond that he couldn’t care less what Clint did.

“Celia, listen, give him a call back and beg him to come Friday for dinner and then go off to do whatever it was he was going to do. He’s your brother. Explain to him that right now you need family. He’ll probably be able to rearrange his schedule that little bit.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He knows how desperate I am to see him. Maybe he wasn’t thinking about that part of it. I’ll call him right now and beg him to meet me.”

“You go girl! Let me know what he says. okay?”

Jake might not have to worry after all. If Celia could convince Clint to show up for dinner then Jake could execute the contract and move on, being there to hand Celia a tissue and lend her a shoulder to cry on. He could do that much. On the otherhand:

 Sweeterthannothing:

On the other hand, he wasn’t sure he should be doing this at all.

His phone rang in his hand, Stella again, he rejected the call and dropped his phone into his backpack, she could ruin everything if she got her meddling hands in this mess, it was bad enough as it was. Why couldn’t she just let him be and get this done? She had never been this clingy before.

He tried closing his eyes and getting some sleep in, there was still a few hours left on his train journey and the stress of the most recent past was weighing on him. 

But he just couldn’t settle, something wasn’t right, he could feel it. Stella, Celia, Clint… Even the plane! Everything seemed to be telling him to not go through with this but he had completed plenty of ‘contracts’ like this before, what could go wrong? Sure this one was a little close to home so to speak but no one had any idea of his second life, he had no reason to think they would ever suspect him. 

But that wasn’t quite what was worrying him either, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

He jumped when the train announced his stop was approaching, admonishing himself for letting his guard down so much he grabbed his meagre luggage and stretched, trying to convince himself all was well, it was nearly over with after all. 

Until he stepped off the train and came face to face with Stella. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I begged you not to do this,” she said, tears in her eyes. 

“What are you talking about? It’s just work…” It was then he noticed the small gun she held to her hip, pointing straight at him. 

The Sicilian Storyteller:

“It’s just work! That’s your answer for everything, Jake.”

“Stella, what’s gotten into you and where did you get that gun?”

“Shut up, Jake. I’m so sick of all the lies. Do you think I’m that stupid, that I don’t know about your secret life?”

“Look, Stella, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Let’s get off this train platform, go someplace quiet to talk.”

“You really do take me for a fool, don’t you, Jake? How very careless of you to make that mistake.’’

Jake had never seen Stella like this before. Exactly how much did she know? Was she talking about his job? Or maybe it was Celia. A dozen scenarios flashed through is mind in a matter of seconds. All that was important right now was for him to regain the upper hand. He had to get that gun away from her.

“Come on, baby. I have no idea where you’re coming from with these ideas. You’re upset, I get that …. but a gun? That’s not you, Stella. Please, baby. Put the gun away or better yet, just hand it to me.”

Jake saw Sella hesitate for a second and he knew that was the only chance he’d get to disarm her. He was about to reach for the gun when someone came up behind Stella and twisted her arm behind her back.

It was Clint.

My turn to nominate someone; I’d like to tag Lady Sighs ….. https://ladysighs.wordpress.com/ …..
if she would be so kind as to take on the challenge.

UPDATE: Lady Sighs is unable to pass the baton but no worries; Sadje is running with it. Go Sadje!

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SAVING GRACE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

There aren’t too many people who know about this part of my life; that’s about to change.

It was 1943 and I was crazy about Pvt. Roy Holmes at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Every night for two weeks I snuck out my bedroom window to be with him. Then he stopped coming around and I found out he’d been deployed. I was heartbroken. Just one short month later I learned he’d been killed. Another month later I realized I was pregnant. 

Mama and daddy would never understand; what’s worse, they’d never forgive me. I packed some clothes and snuck out one last time. I caught a north-bound bus, getting off at the aptly named city of Hope, Ohio. Eyeing a pretty white church, I headed straight for it and rang the bell. I was surprised when a young handsome pastor answered; he was even more surprised when I fainted in the doorway. When I came to I was on a sofa with the pastor and two women standing over me. 

“Better now?” asked the pastor and I gave a little nod of my head. “Maybe if you tell us what’s wrong we’ll be able to help” he suggested.

“Yes, what wrong, dear? Maybe we can help?” the two kindly women asked in unison.

Speaking softly, I slowly made up my story as I went along: “My name is Grace Holmes. My husband of five months was killed in the war. I have no family, no money and I’m pregnant.” I started to cry tears of sorrow and shame. Handing me a tissue the pastor quietly said “There now. You’ve been through an awful ordeal. Please stay the night here in the parish house and in the morning we’ll sort it all
out.” 

I gratefully accepted the pastor’s kind offer; the two women led me upstairs and helped me get settled in a lovely guest room. The room was small but well-appointed with a twin bed, nightstand, dresser and rocking chair in the corner. It even had its own bathroom with a bathtub! There was a beautiful view of a pond behind the church and I knew this was where I was meant to be. Still, I felt very guilty about my lies. I decided I would stay a day or two until I figured out what I would do, then I’d move on. I couldn’t take advantage of these kind people.

The next morning I found everyone in the kitchen preparing breakfast. The pastor rushed over to offer me a chair. “Good morning, Grace! These are the two ladies who were here last night when you arrived … our cook, Anna, and Peggy, our housekeeper. I’m Richard Clark, the pastor” he said, absentmindedly touching his collar. Everyone was so welcoming!

I remembered the two women as the ones who brought me to the guest room and I thanked them again for their hospitality. We made small talk during breakfast – the weather, what was on sale at the grocery store, a new recipe Anna couldn’t wait to try out. One topic everyone was careful not to mention was the war, obviously for my sake. I refrained from saying too much, afraid of turning my lie into a giant web from which I’d never free myself.

Life at the parish house was surprisingly busier that I thought. People stopped by to discuss weddings, funerals, baptisms, the church bazaar. Some inquired about joining the choir and others invited Pastor Richard for dinner. It was comfortable while being lively and I liked helping Anna in the kitchen, even though she insisted I should be resting in my “delicate condition”. Soon I would have to leave before I wore out my welcome.

One night after dinner, Pastor Richard asked me to join him in his office. He offered me a chair and then sat behind his desk. “Grace, I believe things happen for a reason. I’ve been thinking about this since you arrived the other night. There’s a way we can help each other. You see, my secretary recently retired and I haven’t been able to find anyone to take her place. I’d like to offer you the job. It’s not very demanding – taking phone calls, answering the door, keeping track of appointments, things like that. The salary is decent and room and board are included. Would you consider taking the job? I believe you’d be a real asset here.”

“Pastor Richard, I wasn’t prepared for this and I don’t know what to say. What about my condition?” I responded.

“Grace, you’re pregnant; you don’t need to ring a bell and declare ‘Unclean! Unclean!’ wherever you go. Celebrate the new life growing inside you! Do me a favor; sleep on what we discussed and let me know tomorrow. And Grace, please call me Richard.”

That night in my room I thought about the job and living at the parish house. I had to admit I felt at home here and it would be an answer to my prayers. The next morning I told Richard I wanted to take the job on a 3-week trial basis if that was alright with him. He was so happy with my news, he gave me an unexpected hug that lifted me off my feet.

Working at the parish house was wonderful; I was always a quick study and I became entrenched in my new job in no time. Of course, Richard was a huge part of the reason I was so happy. Over the period of just a few weeks we became much closer to each other. We spent many hours together, our friendship growing stronger until it was undeniable – we were falling in love.

When I announced to Richard that the 3-week trial was over, he walked over to me and said softly “Grace, please stay. I couldn’t bear it if you left.”

I reached up and put my arms around his neck. “I’m not going anywhere, Richard. I’ve fallen in love with you.” And we kissed for the first time.

From that moment on we were inseparable. As our relationship became obvious to those around us, so did my pregnancy. Richard asked me to marry him and I said yes. We were both thrilled but my lies haunted me. I knew I had to confess before I could marry Richard. I took him by the hand and led him to the sofa in his office.

“Darling, I have something to tell you. The night I arrived here, I lied to everyone about my past. I‘m not a war widow; I was never married. I became pregnant by my boyfriend who was drafted and left without even saying goodbye to me. One month after that, he was killed and soon after I discovered I was pregnant. My parents would never understand so I ran away from home. I got off the bus here when I heard the bus driver announce the city of Hope. I believe this is where I was meant to be.”

I sighed deeply and waited for Richard to say something. Finally, when he spoke, his words shocked me.  

“Oh, Grace. I’ve been waiting all this time for you to tell me, to unburden yourself. How awful it must have been to be living with that lie day after day. You see, darling, I’ve always known or at least surmised the truth.” 

I was stunned. “But how? How could you know?”  

“No wedding ring, no pictures of your ‘husband’, no mention of your childhood,  your family. You said nothing about your life at all. I figured it out and I didn’t care. I love you and I’m so happy you trusted me enough to tell me the truth. I want to be your husband and a father to your baby more than anything in the world. That’s all that matters.” And then he kissed me.

“We’re going to have to call your parents and let them know you’re safe. Don’t worry, darling; it will all be ok. But first we have to tell Anna and Peggy we’re getting married; I’ll never hear the end of it if they’re not the first to know!”

I made another decision that night: if our baby is a girl, her name will be Hope.

 NAR © 2023

 

I’m looking forward to
having you join me today
At The Movies.
https://rhythmsection.blog

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A FINE TIME TO ASK

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Alicia Jamtaas

“We’ll be home soon, darling” I assured my wife.

“It was a brilliant idea celebrating Christmas at the cabin. Which reminds me, David – you did unplug the lights on the tree, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t; I assumed you did. Fine time to ask, Claire!”

“David, you can’t just assume! And since when is it my job?”

“You assumed I unplugged them!”

“We have to go back.”

After a three-hour return drive in stony silence, we arrived at the cabin – minutes after the firetrucks.

Only a charred moose head on the stone fireplace remained standing; everything else was smoldering remains.

NAR © 2023
100 Words

11 August 2023

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FOOD FIGHT

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Fandango asks us:
DO YOU EVER USE A MEAL DELIVERY SERVICE SUCH AS DOORDASH (OR WHATEVER LOCAL EQUIVALENTS ARE AVAILABLE IN YOUR PART OF THE WORLD)? IF SO, HOW OFTEN WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE MEALS DELIVERED TO YOUR DOORSTEP?

“Mom! I’m starvin’! What’s for dinner!”

“Me too, Mom! I’m so hungry! I didn’t eat all day!”

“Well, I’m hugrier than both of you! I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!”

“So what! I could eat a hippo!”

“Big deal! I could eat an elephant!”

“Kids! Please! I’ve been busy cleaning the house and doing laundry all day. I forgot to take something out of the freezer for dinner. We’ll have to get something delivered.”

“Yeah! I want Smashburger. Let’s call DoorDash or GrubHub or Uber Eats!”

“No, Jimmy! We had Smashburger last night. I wanna get Panera Bread!”

“Well, too bad, Betty. Nobody wants Panera Bread except you, right Bobby?”

“Well, I don’t want Smashburger OR Panera Bread. I want Domino’s!”

“SMASHBURGER!”

“PANERA BREAD!”

“DOMINO’S!”

“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S”

“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S”

“Kids! Stop shouting! I’ve got an awful headache and I’m going upstairs to rest.”

“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S!”

“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S!”

“DADDY’S HOME! DADDY’S HOME!”

“Hey, guys! What’s all the shouting about? I can hear you all the way out in my car. What’s going on?”

“Mommy forgot to take something out of the freezer for dinner…”

“So we’re getting DoorDash or GrubHub or Uber Eats…”

“I want Smashburger, Betty wants Panera Bread and Bobby wants Domino’s.”

“All right! Calm down! Where’s your mom, anyway?”

“She’s got a headache.”

“Again!”

“And she’s upstairs resting.”

“OK, listen guys. I’m going upstairs to check on mom. Watch a movie and be quiet!“

“I wanna watch Spiderman!”

“You’re stupid! I wanna watch Mulan!”

“I hate you! I wanna watch Super Mario Bros!”

“MOM! DAD! MOM! DAD! MOM! DAD!”

“STOP SHOUTING THIS MINUTE!! MOM AND I HAVE DECIDED. WE’RE ORDERING FROM THE DINER SO EVERYONE CAN GET WHATEVER THEY WANT FROM ONE PLACE. SIT THERE WHILE I GET THE MENU.”

“Yay!! The diner!! The diner!! The diner!!”

“I want…….”

NAR © 2023
Author’s note: Bill and I have never used DoorDash or any of the other apps for meal delivery. I tried InstaCart once or twice but wasn’t happy with the produce and/or meat that was selected for me by someone else. We will occasionally order pizza or Chinese food when I don’t feel like cooking but I’d rather make my own pizza; it’s inexpensive, delicious and easy to do. Meal delivery is a wonderful service for people who have no other option. For us it’s an additional expense we don’t need.

Fandango’s Provocative Question #226
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THE PORCH

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Walnut hair and skin so fair
Freckles like stars on her nose
Green eyes glittering like precious jewels
And lips as soft as a rose” 

“Hey, Pops, what’s that you’re singing? I’ve never heard it before”. 

“Brady, I didn’t see you there” replied Ben Williams as he leaned his guitar against the porch wall. “Just an old number I wrote for your Mom. Another lifetime.” 

“Pops, can I ask you something? It makes me sad how little I remember about Mom. What was she like?” 

“Oh, son. That’s not easy to answer. Your mom was a real beauty, a feast for the eyes. And we were happy. We had you and your sister our first two years together. Then I got that trucking job and your Mom was alone a lot. It’s hard on a woman when her man is away for weeks at a time, especially with babies to care for. She was special and she loved you kids – don’t you ever forget that – but she got lonely.” 

Ben continued. “When Ron Carter’s wife died your Mom befriended him. They were both lonely and found comfort together. I don’t blame her for that. One day when I was home from the road she brought Ron a cherry pie. She took your sister with her and they never came back. How I wish she’d stayed but I couldn’t force her to be happy here. From that point on it was just you and me.” 

Father and son sat in contemplative silence. 

“You know, Pops, at first I thought Mom would come back soon. Then I gave up on that dream and convinced myself she had died. Strange thing is, thinking she was dead was easier than believing she abandoned us.” 

Ben let out a ragged sigh. “Thank God I had you, Brady. You didn’t know it but you kept me from falling apart. Getting that steady job at the hardware store was a life saver and I was able to be here for you.” 

“Then I started dating Rebecca and I was hardly ever home!” Brady laughed. “Marrying her and moving in here with you made my life complete.”

“That sweet gal of yours made my life complete, too, son. She filled a void in my heart and never once complained about having to live with her pain-in-the-ass father-in-law! Rebecca’s like a daughter to me” declared Ben. 

“Pops, did you know Rebecca was the one who insisted we live here with you. Not too many women would do that. And our kids are crazy about you! You’ve taught them a lot.” 

“I love those munchkins, Brady! You all made this house a home and a broken old man whole again.” 

Rebecca poked her head out the screen door. “Dinner in ten minutes, you two. Please round up the kids and everybody get washed up.” 

That night Rebecca asked Brady what he and his father had been talking about. 

“Just reminiscing, mostly about my Mom.” 

“I wish I had a chance to know your Mom.”

“Me too, Becca” Brady replied wistfully. “Me too.”

NAR © 2023

Please join me today
In The Groove
for more great songs.
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

TODAY @ THE RHYTHM SECTION

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

What fun! Check it out!
This is what you’re missing
if you aren’t reading us!

Breaktime Whodunnit (7 August 2023)
Uncategorized

LOVE STINKS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Doug Jacquier

L is for the louse I almost married
Glad I learned before I tied the knot
With him my life was always harried
I knew that I deserved another shot

O is for the opinionated SOB
He never agreed with anything I said
He wanted other lovers besides me
So I kicked the bugger right out of my bed

V is for the many vices he enjoyed
Out all night and sleeping all day long
Now the slouch no longer is employed
And he still can’t figure out what he did wrong

E is for the engagement ring he gave me
It was nothing but a chintzy piece of glass
I had no other choice, as you can see
But to boot him out and kick his sorry ass

Not all people are the marrying kind
Regardless of what everybody thinks
When you’re sure you’ve got yourself a real find
Turns out the ugly truth is that love stinks

You’ve heard the song that love is all you need
And for the longest time I really felt that way
But that man of mine was just a real bad seed
And that’s the truth, no matter what folks say

So think twice before you walk down that church aisle
Heed my advice and listen to my plea
Take your time, no need to rush, just wait a while
Because there’s plenty more fish swimming in the sea

NAR © 2023
238 Words

The Unicorn Challenge – 05/08/23
Uncategorized

MOON WALKING

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

I was thinking about that night back in March when Max and I went out walking. We were both feeling a little restless and unsettled; walks always took the edge off. It was really quiet on that road; even the usual noisy critters in the woods were not chattering. A brightness broke through the clouds and fog, lighting the way as we went moon walking. That’s when I started softly reminiscing about my life with Max.

“You know, Max, it’s hard to believe we’ve been together four years already – just you and me, constant companions. I still think about the first time we found each other. We both really needed someone in our lives at that time, somebody to fill a void. It didn’t take long before we were best friends.

Working from home during Covid took a little getting used to; being in each other’s space 24/7 could have been disastrous but it turned out to be a blessing. We kept each other from going crazy while holed up inside. I imagined a lot of staring out the window, whining. Thank goodness for that park across the street and our quick jogs for groceries.

Yeah, Max. You’re my main man and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ve been tossing some stuff around in my head and I have something very important I need to run by you, buddy: you see, I’ve found someone.

Now, don’t start getting weird on me, Max. This is new territory for me, bringing someone into my life – into your life, too. She’s become very important to me and I hope you’ll like her as much as I do. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and I’d like her to move in with me … with us. I know this is all very sudden and it’s asking a lot, which is why I want you to meet her and get to know her.

She makes me happy, Max, and I can see all of us spending our lives together. She’s sweet, beautiful and loving. Well, you’ll see for yourself; she’s going to meet us here tonight. I call her Sasha.”

Max and I gave each other a look and I wondered if my eyes said “I know this is a lot to take in”. As we approached a large tree along the side of the road, there was Sasha, waiting for us, and I quickened my step to greet her. We nuzzled and sniffed each other, totally forgetting Max was standing a few feet away, patiently waiting. I looked back and forth between my two loves – one canine and one human – and I hoped Sasha and Max would become best friends, just like me and Max.

Finally Max came over to us and squatted down for a better look. I had no idea what he was going to say and I was a bit nervous. For the first time since we started our walk, Max spoke:

“Well, look at you, Miss Sasha! Aren’t you a pretty girl? You’ve got a lovely lady friend here, Jake, a petite chocolate lab. Let’s see; do you have a collar? Nope, nothing. Well, you’re either a stray, a run-away or someone let you go. I can’t imagine that, not a pretty girl like you.”

Just then Sasha darted over to the tree and emerged with a puppy dangling from her mouth; my heart did a flip. Our little guy couldn’t have been more than a couple of days old. Sasha walked right up to Max.

“Well, would you look at that!” Max laughed. “A little guy and he looks just like you, Jake! I guess congratulations are in order. Well, Jake, Sasha. What do you say we all head home? Sasha, may l carry your pup for you?”

Sasha looked up at Max with trusting eyes and gently placed our pup in his hands. We all headed home, walking in the moonlight; Max hummed a happy tune while Sasha and I trotted close beside.

“Sasha, we really need to find a nice woman for Max, don’t you think?” and my love gave a little woof of agreement.

NAR © 2023

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #230
Uncategorized

IN MY DEFENSE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

What the hell are you looking at?
Never seen a raccoon before?
And what’s with the fence?
A “NO TRESPASSING” sign would have sufficed.
Whatever happened to “Mi casa es su casa”?
You wanna play a little game of “Climb This Fence”?
OK, you’re on! I can climb this fence before you can say:
“Rocky Raccoon runs rings around reclining redheads”.
Psst! Turn around, Carrot Top! I’m on the other side. Haha!
Look, in my defense, I got a wife and six kids waiting for me
back at the dumpster and we gotta eat.
A baby’s full dirty diaper feeds a family of eight quite nicely.
Hey, don’t look at me like that!
One man’s poop is another’s Pâté de Poulet.
Next time, leave some tabasco sauce; my wife likes it hot!
Ha-cha-cha-cha!

NAR © 2023

#WRITEPHOTO – Raccoon
Uncategorized

VAFFANCULO!

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“So, what brings you here today, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson.

“I can’t sleep, Doc!” replied Lou in despair. “I’m so tired! I haven’t slept a wink!”

“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that!” laughed the doctor. “Look, Lou. Of all the ailments people discuss with me, the greatest number of complaints isn’t about body aches, irritable bowels, erectile dysfunction or psoriasis: the most talked-about topic is lack of sleep. Falling asleep at bedtime and getting a good night’s rest is a problem that plagues millions so you’re not alone in this. I’m going to ask you some questions; let’s see if we can come up with a solution.”

Lou yawned and nodded in agreement. His wife Marie chimed in. “Maybe you should start by telling the doctor how much coffee you drink every day.”

“Ok, that’s an excellent suggestion. How much coffee do you drink, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson, his fingers hovering over the keys of his computer.

“Oh, I guess about eight cups a day and an espresso after dinner. We have one of those – whatchamacallits – Nespresso machines. Fantastic things! Just pop in a little plastic capsule and brew yourself fresh coffee in no time”

“Whoa! That’s a lot of caffeine!” The doctor was clearly surprised.” You need to cut back. If you drink that much coffee, at least half of it should be decaf. I’d like to eventually get you down to just one cup of regular coffee in the morning. How about alcohol?”

“Go ahead, Lou. Answer the doctor” Marie said, giving her husband a nudge with her elbow.

“I’ll have a couple of glasses of my cousin Carlo’s homemade vino while Marie’s preparing dinner. And another glass or two with dinner. Oh yeah, I like a nice sambucca while I’m watching “The Tonight Show” with that Jimmy Fallon. He’s a funny guy!”

The doctor stared at Lou allowing his words to sink in. “That’s five alcoholic drinks per day!” Dr. Patterson was flabbergasted.

“Give or take. Yeah, that sounds about right” was Lou’s reply as the doctor shook his head in amazement.

“What form of exercise do you engage in?” the doctor asked.

“Exercise!?” squawked Marie. “The strongest parts of his body are his fingers … from pushing himself away from the dining room table, surfing the interweb and using the remote control. He gets his exercise by watching Stallone running up and down those steps in that Rocky movie … as if that’s gonna work, you stupid jackass!”

Lou’s eyes shot daggers at his wife. She shrugged. “What? It’s the truth, Lou, and you know it.”

“What about your diet, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson while eyeing Lou’s sizable belly.

“Diet? I ain’t on no diet, doc! My Marie is a fabulous cook!” Lou exclaimed, making her blush. “She makes everything from scratch, including her pizza, pasta, braciola, arancini – you name it, she can make it. And her ricotta cheesecake? Fuggedaboutit!”

“Well, it’s wonderful that Marie’s such a great cook but it sounds like you’re eating a lot of rich, fattening foods” the doctor replied with concern.

“What’s wrong with pizza?” Lou asked incredulously. “It’s the perfect food – something from all the food groups. You got your carbohydrates, your protein and your dairy, right?”

“Well, technically, yes but I wouldn’t call it ‘the perfect food’. Dr. Patterson entered all Lou’s information into his computer. “Let me get this straight, Lou. Your caffeine and alcohol intake is off the charts, you eat rich foods and desserts, you spend a lot of time in front of some type of device, you stay up late and you don’t exercise. Is that about right?”

“Yeah, I guess” Lou admitted begrudgingly.

“Do you realize that everything you’re doing is adversely affecting your quality of sleep? And what about you, Marie! How well do you sleep?”

“Who, me? Why, I sleep like a rock” Marie answered proudly.

“You’re not kidding! You should hear her snore, doc!” Lou guffawed. “What a racket! It sounds like bocce balls rolling around the court! Hey! That’s probably why I can’t sleep!”

Marie huffed indignantly.

“You snore, Marie? Sounds to me like you could have sleep apnea – a serious disorder. Considering everything we’ve discussed I’m referring you, Lou, to a life management specialist. And Marie, I’m scheduling a sleep disorder study for you.”

Lou and Marie stared at the doctor in shock.

“Can’t you just give me some sleeping pills?” pleaded Lou.

“And maybe all I need are some of those nose strips” Marie suggested hopefully.

“I’m afraid not. You need to make some serious life changes” replied the doctor showing Marie and Lou to the door. “Just stop by the desk on your way out and Victoria will have all the paperwork ready for you.”

“Thanks a lot, Marie, making me tell the doctor everything! Now I gotta see a specialist!” Lou griped. “This is all your fault!”

“Oh, shut up, Lou! Thanks to you, I gotta go for a sleep study! Well, you can get your own damn dinner tonight. I’m on strike!”

Lou looked devastated.

“And another thing, Lou – vaffanculo!”

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll visit
me today
At The Movies
for more great music!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

AN UNLIKELY HERO

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Sadje has asked us “What do you see?”

Image credit; Neha Godbole @ Unsplash

Fantasy Land, May 2, 1865 –
The day started out as any ordinary sunny spring day in Fantasy Land but by noon the town was in a frenzy for the news was out that 9 year old Mary Andrews had lost her lamb, Snowflake. Mary had Snowflake for only a few months but they had become attached to each other immediately, so much so that he followed her to school every day, even though Mary knew it was against the rules.
Teacher Sarah Johnson had this to say: “Mary’s such a lovely girl and Snowflake is so sweet with his fleece as white as snow. I didn’t mind the fact that the lamb followed Mary to school because she always tied him to a nearby tree but today for some reason he followed her right into the classroom. As you can imagine all the children wanted to do was laugh and play.”
Pressed for more information, Miss Johnson went on to say that she took Snowflake outside herself and tied him to the tree but when the children went out to play, the lamb was nowhere in sight.
The three blind mice who live across the road from the school became rather indignant when questioned about the incident. “Of course we didn’t see anything, you fool! We’re blind as bats! But we did hear some strange noises near the tree shortly before the children came outside.” When asked to described the noises one mouse said “It sounded like pulling or tugging” while another thought it was more like a snapping sound. The third mouse added “There was definitely a scuffle of some sort. Poor little Snowflake.”
Mary’s parents, Abigail and Wyatt Andrews, rushed to the school to console their daughter. Mr. Andrews was visibly upset to learn that the teacher had taken Snowflake away from Mary. “She had no right touching that lamb. She’s a school teacher, not a farmer and has no idea how to tie a proper knot. She should have asked Mary to tie Snowflake to the tree like she always does.”
Moments later Little Bo-Peep arrived on the scene and was asked her opinion on the incident. “Well, I’ve been a shepherdess for a long time now and if there’s one thing I know it’s this: If you leave them alone they’ll come home wagging their tails behind them.”
By mid-afternoon all the town’s residents had gathered at the school and formed search parties to look for Snowflake. Even Humpty Dumpty was there, sad and terribly broken up. In all my years as a reporter I’ve never seen such an outpouring of support.
A new development as Hansel and Gretel just arrived at the school. “Wait! We think we can help!” they cried and tearfully reminded those of us still at the school of their traumatic encounter with the evil witch who held them captive in her gingerbread house. “We all know how much Snowflake loves to eat wildflowers” Hansel said. Gretel added “The witch has flowers growing all around her house. If she get’s Snowflake to follow her there, the poor little guy won’t stand a chance.”
With great trepidation we entered the forest and came upon the witch’s house. There she was, gnarled and bent over, dragging a bleating Snowflake behind her. “STOP!!” the witch shrieked, “I’ll kill him right before your eyes!” Suddenly, Humpty Dumpty appeared out of nowhere and ran up to Snowflake, freeing him from the witch’s clutches. Snatching Humpty, the witch cackled “Fine! Take your precious lamb! I don’t need him. I’ll feast on scrambled eggs all week!” and she disappeared into the dark forest with Humpty.
What an act of bravery exhibited by Humpty Dumpty! He was indeed a good egg. 

NAR © 2023

What do you see # 197- July 31, 2023
Uncategorized

BIG BLUE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Well, hello there. I’m Big Blue. And you? Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Reader. Please have a seat, get comfortable and let me tell you a little about myself. 

My family and I were purchased in 1964 by Nancy’s parents, Vito and Connie Schembre, for their home in the Bronx. Oh, we didn’t look anything like I do now! No, our upholstery was a green and gold velvet paisley which looked very elegant with the marble coffee table and white rug in the formal living room on the first floor. The only time The Schembres used the upstairs dining and living rooms was when special company came by.

Connie kept a beautiful house, immaculately clean from top to bottom. Like most Italian households, the basement was where the family really lived; it was fully furnished with a kitchen, dining area, bathroom and tv section. Connie had a nice sewing room where she spent many hours making costumes for school plays, clothes for her daughters and custom order dresses for a small clientele of local upper class women. And Vito had a workshop in the back where he’d make homemade wine and tinker with things that needed fixing which somehow never got fixed.

My parents were joined at the hip and formed one expansive sofa; my big sister was a loveseat and my twin brother and I recliners. Connie liked the fact that my brother and I were called “wall huggers” which meant our back stayed close to the wall and we didn’t sprawl out all over the place when in the reclining position. Why, we didn’t even look like your typical recliner.

The four of us together were just too much furniture for the formal living room so it was decided that I would join the more casual furniture downstairs in the tv section. When Connie wasn’t sewing at her old factory Singer, she enjoyed knitting in her rocking chair while Vito liked a good doze in his overstuffed armchair. Seventeen-year-old Rosemarie loved her bean bag chair (a hideous thing!) and I got to be 13-year-old Nancy’s chair! I couldn’t have been happier and neither could she; it was a big step up from a bunch of pillows tossed on the floor! 

From my vantage point I could see everything that happened in the basement – Vito listening to opera, Connie frying her tantalizing meatballs every Sunday morning, the girls doing their homework at the kitchen table. I had a front row seat for every tv show the family watched. In fact, the only time Nancy didn’t sit on me with her legs comfortably stretched out was the time she sat on the floor five inches from the tv to watch the Beatles live on the Ed Sullivan Show. 

Oh, the memories! I snuck a peek when Rosemarie made out with her first boyfriend Billy Mack. I held back tears of pain when Connie meticulously stitched my torn seam. And I was the only one in the basement that morning when Nancy sat at the kitchen table one hour before her wedding in her gown dunking Oreos into a tall glass of milk! How I wish I had a picture of that! 

Then in 1977 the day came when the Schembres decided to move to a smaller house upstate. As a set, my parents, sister, brother and I were much too large for the new house and were placed on the curb for either someone to take home or to be picked up by the trash collectors. It was terrifying for me; the thought of going to strangers or being picked up for the trash was unbearable. At the last minute Nancy’s husband Bill picked me up and put me in their van. I was overjoyed to be going to live at Nancy’s house! I also overheard that one of Connie’s friends took the rest of my family for her son who had just gotten married and needed furniture. What could have been the worst day of my life turned into the best!

Now I have a really cool coat of soft blue leather and reside very comfortably in Nancy’s Beatles room. And Nancy spends hours sitting on me with her legs comfortably stretched out writing her stories. I tell you, dear Reader, things couldn’t be better! I’m so happy and I feel fine!

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll stop by
In The Groove today.
I’ll be waiting for you!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

THE FIRST TIME

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

The first time I felt my baby
move inside me,
I was in the bathtub.
I felt a tiny flutter in my belly
and thought “maybe”.
Then the water rippled
and my heart soared.
❤︎

NAR ©
34 words

Weekend Writing Prompt #322 – Flutter
Uncategorized

CHASING DREAMS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
©Ayr/Gray

Everything was going fine until it wasn’t. Then Joe and Willie met – two guys down on their luck.

Willie grew up in the street, standing outside saloons dancing a jig just to earn a coin for something to eat. Some days he’d get tossed a fresh cigarette; he’d break it in half, smoke one piece first and save the other behind his ear for later. One odd job led to another but nothing steady and he’d move on, some bread and cheese in a sack over his shoulder.

Now Joe was a lucky SOB. Born in a brothel, all the ladies took him to their bosoms. By the time he was eight, he knew what was what. Life was good until the girls got sick and the house was shut down. Joe fell through the cracks. He found a bit of money, some jewelry and food left behind, placed it in a bag and took off.

Willie and Joe met while hopping freight trains and chasing their dreams. Willie was on the track to nowhere but Joe had his sights on California gold. By now Willie was sick … “consumption”, he said; Joe kept an eye on him. When you got only one friend in the world, that person means something.

They planned to hop the freight train heading west. Willie never made it, coughing to death one night in the train yard. Joe placed Willie’s hat over his face and ran for the biggest, fastest iron horse California bound.

NAR © 2023
250 words

The Unicorn Challenge – 29/07/23
Uncategorized

GRAMPS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Now listen up, Pumpkin, and don’t turn around. As far as you’re concerned, I’m not here and we’re definitely not together.

We’ve been over and over this scenario two dozen times and I know you know it by heart, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over a lifetime of grifting is if something can go wrong, it will. Best to be prepared for anything so let’s go over it one more time. Just give Gramps a yawn if you’re with me.“

*Yawn*

“That’s my girl. If there’s anything you don’t understand, give me a little cough. Now there’s a couple of good marks coming our way. They’re completely oblivious. I’m telling you, Pumpkin; people like this make my job easy as pie!

Ok, here’s the plan. I’m gonna start acting like I’m not feeling too good – chest pains or trouble breathing. I’ll probably slump over onto the bench; that’s always very effective. Don’t turn around if I do that, ok Pumpkin? I’m alright and it’s all for show, got it?”

*Yawn*

“Good girl! So once people notice I’m in distress, they’re gonna come over to see if they can help. They’re gonna be concentrating on me – not their stuff and definitely not you. When everyone is distracted, that’s your cue to act. Just slip your little hand into their pockets, their purses, their shopping bags. Do it smooth, feather-light and quick. Whatever you snatch, drop it into your shopping bag. Don’t be greedy and don’t stay too long. And don’t look at me, you hear?”

*Yawn*

“When you’re done, turn around and walk away – not too fast and not too slow. Just amble into the department store and go to our designated spot. Once I’ve reassured everyone that I’m ok – just a little asthma attack – and I don’t need an ambulance, I’ll come meet you. If anything, anything at all doesn’t feel right or things go wrong, ditch the plan. Forget about me. Just take your bag and walk away, got it?”

*Yawn*

“And one last thing, Pumpkin. Remember our pinky swear. Not one word of this to your mom and dad.”

*Yawn”

NAR © 2023

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #229
Uncategorized

TO THE MOON, ALICE!

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Reposting this from 2021. Initially I thought it would be
a good companion piece for today’s “Moon River” post on
At The Movies in The Rhythm Section.
Then I saw Fandango’s comment when this was
originally published (see bottom) and I got all verklempt.
A giant ‘thank you’, Fan; it really is a fine little story,
isn’t it?
❤︎

For as long as I can remember my Uncle Bobby was my idol – the self-proclaimed “Poster Boy for Home Depot”. In fact, I can’t recall a time when he wasn’t fixing this or repairing that. He was the neighborhood handyman, the guy everyone called to replace a broken window or unclog their toilet. He could paint a room like nobody’s business, his cutting-in seams done to perfection without the use of that “sissy painter’s tape”. Yep, he was like a magician, my Uncle Bobby was, and I loved following him around on his odd jobs, delighting at his request for me to hand him a Phillips head screwdriver or a roll of duct tape. 

Uncle Bobby was a no-frills kind of guy; what you saw was what you got with him. He was my dad’s brother, living with us in the spare room of our old rambling Victorian house. He must have replaced just about every board of the huge porch that wrapped itself around the house. My mom would complain that the decking looked like a patchwork quilt with no two pieces of wood being exactly the same. Uncle Bobby would always say the same thing: “Don’t worry ‘bout nothing, Margie. They’ll all weather with age and you’ll never be able to tell ‘em apart.” But they never did and the porch truly looked like a jigsaw puzzle.

The biggest problem with Uncle Bobby was the fact that he couldn’t really fix anything that required true skill, like a washing machine or a radio or a power lawnmower. Whenever he attempted such jobs, he’d inevitably have a couple of pieces left over even after he finished putting the whole thing back together! He’d toss all the unused parts into a ten-gallon drum in our basement (which was also his workshop). Funny thing was everything he was asked to repair would work fine for a while, then breakdown after several days anyway. Uncle Bobby would explain that he “fixed the dang thing but it was just its time to go”. I think I was the only one who knew about his stash of leftover essential pieces which doubled in size on a weekly basis.

Truth was Uncle Bobby had more crap in our basement than Carter had liver pills and he was slowly but surely inching his way over to the cramped corner where my mom had her washing machine. She finally put her foot down one day and demanded he either clean up his crap or build a wall around her laundry area so she wouldn’t have to look at all his crap. Rather than clean up the place, Uncle Bobby built mom a wall. Even she had to admit it was the best looking wall she’d ever seen, with a door and everything!

Believe it or not, Uncle Bobby was a genuine ladies’ man and he “cleaned up real nice” as old Mrs. Jenkins liked to say. He’d wash up in the basement using Lava Soap, shave with menthol Barbasol and splash on the Aqua Velva then head out to Kelly’s Place for ribs and a few beers. All the girls liked Uncle Bobby but his favorites were the Andrews twins, Patty and Paula. They didn’t seem to mind the perpetual ring of dirt under Uncle Bobby’s fingernails; no matter how many times he washed his hands that grime stayed put. He said it was “the mark of a hard-working man”.

Uncle Bobby loved watching those old black and white tv shows like Flash Gordon, Superman and The Twilight Zone. He had a real fascination with outer space and anything that could fly. That’s probably why he loved “The Honeymooners” – that classic Jackie Gleason comedy show; he’d laugh his head off every time Ralph Kramden roared his trademark tagline “To the moon, Alice!”

I’ll never forget that one Christmas when I got a remote control airplane; I think Uncle Bobby spent more time playing with that damn thing than I did. He was happy as a pig in slop the day he found a used one at the church tag sale. He’d tinker with that thing every chance he could, making it fly higher and faster. He’d inevitably forget to include a piece or two which he’d just toss into that catch-all drum of his.

So one day out of nowhere right in the middle of dinner Uncle Bobby announced he had his mind set on building a rocket ship. Well, I think everyone thought it was an asinine idea except me and they all laughed it off as him just joking around as usual.  But I knew Uncle Bobby better than anyone and he was dead serious. He told me he was gonna use all the bits and pieces and spare parts he’d collected over the years. And what he didn’t have, he’d scavenge for in dumpsters, rubbish piles outside people’s houses or the garbage bins behind Home Depot. Those places were like a magical treasure trove for Uncle Bobby and he always came home with something. “You never know when this might come in handy” he’d declare, proudly showing me a discarded catalytic converter or a manual typewriter.

Well, true to his word Uncle Bobby started construction on his rocket ship the morning of April 1st and the neighbors howled that it was the perfect April Fool’s Day joke ever. But it wasn’t no joke to Uncle Bobby and he worked on that craft every day. He pitched a tent in the backyard, rolled out that giant ten-gallon drum and went at it like a man possessed. And I was his helper; my special assignment was to find him a really good helmet and a cooler which I filled with Hawaiian Punch, bologna sandwiches and Twinkies.

By July 4th Uncle Bobby’s rocket ship was finished. To be honest it looked like a pile of junk but he thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever made. He painted it red, white and blue and named it “Independence Day”. By now word had gotten out and the whole neighborhood was there to watch Uncle Bobby attempt to take off into the wild blue yonder. Sporting his best overalls and the cool viking helmet I found for him, he climbed in, waved goodbye and slammed the door shut. 

Well, the damn thing sputtered and smoked and made all kinds of weird noises but it suddenly started shaking and actually took off. It was kinda wobbly at first but it just kept on going higher and higher until it disappeared into the clouds. We all stood there with our jaws hanging open, expecting to see the ship come crashing down any second – but it didn’t. We stayed out there for a long time, then gave up and went inside thinking Uncle Bobby would probably just waltz back in when he was good and ready with some great adventure tales to tell.

Damn thing was, we never did see the rocket ship or Uncle Bobby again. Boy, I sure do miss him!

Here’s to you, Rocket Man! Hope you had a great journey, wherever you are. 🚀

Independence Day

NAR © 2021

Please join me today
At The Movies.
https://rhythmsection.blog/
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MINDGAMES

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

It’s time for another Sixer, courtesy of Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge.

“Melt away the fears and anxieties in your mind, feel them liquify and allow them to slowly trickle down your face and relax as tiny rivulets flow down your neck, shoulders, back, thighs, legs and finally your feet where they silently fall off the grid into the ‘Well of Anxiety and Panic’; keeping your eyes closed, cover the well, lock it in place trapping your anxieties inside, inhale, exhale, open your eyes and allow the calmness and peace to envelop you.”  

After six long months of listening to my therapist repeat the same litany in her soft, sing-song voice, one would think I was well on my way to living a life free of worry, what-if scenarios, anxiety, panic attacks and Xanax.

Oh, I have my times of quiet lucidity … weeks of stress-free bliss when I can enjoy a lovely dinner with my husband or a carefree shopping trip in Manhattan, nights when I fall asleep quickly and easily and wake up refreshed and at peace.  

Then just as I’m getting used to this ineffable comfort zone … WHAM BAM THANK YOU MA’AM!! … the panic machine is back with a vengeance, coming out of nowhere with all the subtlety of an 18 wheeler, taking over my life for hours upon days upon weeks only to suddenly, spontaneously run out of gas and coast away down the road leaving me in a safe haven until it reaches a rest stop where it can take a break and refill its gas tank for the next assault; it’s a cesspool of what-the-fuckedness, the grasping, squeezing dragging down quicksand of fuckedupedness! 

Some Einstein once said “The intuitive mind is a sacred gift; the rational mind is a faithful servant.” 

MIND – Noun: a beautiful servant; a dangerous master. 

NAR © 2023

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!

Uncategorized

THE THRILL OF IT ALL

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Ooh! Keep the kiddies out of the room!
Someone’s doing a naughty two-fer!
🙈 🙉 🙊

Lil was always a rebel,
A renegade, if you will.
She liked to go commando;
It gave her such a thrill!

She loved that airy feeling
In her girly parts.
Proper folk would always say
“She’s one of those naughty tarts!”

Lil was just a free spirit,
Always looking for fun.
She was a wild child
With no panties on her bum.

Now don’t you dilly dally.
Don’t you ever forget.
Lil doesn’t approve of wasting time,
Especially in the toilet!

NAR © 2023
81 words

Weekend Writing Prompt #321 – Renegade
FOWC with Fandango — Toilet
Uncategorized

SELF-PRESERVATION

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“’Settlers or Sellers’, that antiques show is coming on. Wanna watch, Doug?”

Just then the phone rang. It’s our daughter Chrissy talking about how tomorrow’s going to be a gorgeous day and our five grandkids really want us to go to the beach with them. 

“Ok, honey. Sounds wonderful. We’ll see you in the morning. Yes, we’re looking forward to it.” 

Doug, who had been happily watching “Seinfeld”, was now sitting imperially on the edge of the couch scowling at me. 

“What was that remark ‘’we’ll see you in the morning’’? I don’t know about you, Helen, but the only people I’ll be seeing in the morning are my golf buddies. We’re going to rent a couple of carts, play 18 holes, drink martinis with lunch, talk sports and smoke cigars. I’m begging you, Helen. Don’t take my day away!” 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic! You can play golf any day. When do we get to go to the beach with the kids.” 

“As infrequently as possible!” Doug groused. “And I’d like to keep it that way.” 

“Oh, come on! Summer’s almost over and the kids are so looking forward to a day with us.” 

“And I’m looking forward to seeing my buddies! We’ve had this outing planned for two weeks. Helen, must I remind you what hell it is going to the beach with the kids?” 

“Doug, you’re making it sound horrible.” 

“Helen, my love, it is horrible! We’ve been to the beach with the kids exactly three times. Do you know why? Because it’s HELL!” 

“But Doug, I hate to disappoint them.” 

“And that, my dear, is your Achilles Heel. We start off excited for a great beach day and within an hour it turns into hell. Chrissy brings so much stuff we’re like the Israelites crossing the desert. Who complains the sand is too hot?  Who needs a diaper change? Who drops their lunch in the sand? Who fights over the sand toys? Before you know it, everyone’s crying, they want to go home and our wonderful day at the beach is kaput.” 

“And you’re the one crying the loudest, Doug” I laughed. 

“Damn right I am, woman.  It’s a nightmare and you know it! Listen, why don’t I call the guys and suggest our lovely wives join us tomorrow? You haven’t played in months. How about it?”  

The idea was very appealing. “Doug, do they still serve those delicious Celtic Guey Cocktails and Waldorf salads?” 

“You bet they do! I know they’re you’re favorites. What do you say? Are we on?” 

“Yes! We certainly are on! You call the guys and I’ll call Chrissy. I hope the kids aren’t too disappointed.” 

Doug kissed the top of my head. “Honey, it may not seem like it now but you’re doing us all a favor. The kids will be just fine – and so will we. Now call Chrissy.” 

Feeling just a wee bit guilty, I dialed Chrissy’s number. 

“Chrissy, sweetheart. About tomorrow. So sorry to disappoint but your dad just reminded me ……”

NAR © 2023

Come on over today to
In The Groove
for more summertime fun!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

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GROUNDED

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Two for the price of one:
Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge
and
Fandango’s Story Starter.
Can you do the Fandango?

“What in the world could have possessed you to do what you did?” she asked.

That was my mother talking … or perhaps I should say “yelling”. And she had every right to yell because I had once again done something stupid. Yes, it was an accident but if I had listened to my mother in the first place this never would have happened.

It all started when I asked my mother if I could borrow her red nail polish to paint my nails for the pool party at my friend Tina’s house. Mom was ok with me borrowing her polish but gave me strict orders to apply it in the bathroom or the kitchen. If I spilled the polish, cleanup would be easy. I was absolutely forbidden to do my nails in my bedroom or the living room; both rooms had wall-to-wall carpeting and any spills or even a drip could spell catastrophe.

So what did I do?

Well, I had to call Tina with a very important question about the pool party and the only phone in the house was in the living room so I sat on the floor and began to polish my toenails while talking on the phone. Have you ever tried to balance a phone receiver with a 3 foot cord attached between your shoulder and ear while trying to do something else with your hands? Take my word for it; it’s not easy.

Now, I’m not exactly sure how it happened but the cord yanked the phone receiver off my shoulder and, in my attempt to catch it, I knocked over the bottle of my mother’s red nail polish … right on the plush white living room carpet.

I watched in slow-motion horror as the bright red polish oozed out of the bottle and was immediately soaked up by the carpet like a sponge. When I came to my senses, I grabbed the bottle and ran into the bathroom, all the while crying “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” I seized the nail polish remover and a rag and ran back to the scene of the crime. I applied the polish remover to the rag and began dabbing at the spill. While I was able to remove some of the polish, it wasn’t enough and I sat there helplessly staring at a 2” diameter patch of drying redish-pink carpet. The topic of getting dried nail polish out of carpeting was never discussed and back then we didn’t have the web to look things up.

The one good thing about this incident was my parents were not home at the time. I ran into the laundry room and gathered an arsenal of cleaning supplies: a scrub brush, detergent, spray cleaner, bleach, scouring powder, rags and a bucket of water. The combination of products and the use of the scrub brush only made matters worse. The 2” spot was now much bigger and pieces of the thick pile had come out. That area of mother’s expensive wall-to-wall carpeting now resembled a man’s balding head. It was a mess and I was up the creek.

So I did the only logical thing. I moved the coffee table about 8” to “hide” the damage. There! From where I stood the problem was solved and no one would be the wiser.

Or so I thought.

I was about to exit via the back door for Tina’s pool party when my parents came home. I heard my mother before I saw her. In fact, I think the entire neighborhood heard her:

“Nancy Ann Schembre! Get in here this second!
What part of ‘do not use nail polish in the living room’
did you not understand?
You deliberately ignored what I said, just like you always do,
and now my carpet is ruined!
Do you think I talk just to hear the sound of my own voice?
No pool party for you, young lady.
You’re grounded for the rest of the summer!”

I stood there unable to move, staring at my mother in disbelief. Grounded again … and this time for the rest of the summer! My life was over!

With head hung low I sniffled an apology and skulked back to my room but I had a plan. Instead of going to my room, I tiptoed down the stairs to the basement and headed for the back door to make my escape. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard a voice from upstairs.

“Where do you think you’re going? I said you were grounded!”

“Oh, man! You’re upstairs! You can’t even see me! How’d you know?”

“Because I know YOU!”

Then came the line that gave me the creeps every time I heard it:

“Besides, I’ve got eyes in the back of my head!”

NAR © 2023

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #228
Fandango’s Story Starter #106
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DAMNED IF I DO

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

It’s been so damn hot and humid, I’ve had it! It’s like a sauna and the moment I step outside I begin to wilt. My clothes stick to me and even wearing a sundress is uncomfortable. I need to take a cool shower when I wake up and again at the end of the day. The AC is cranked up to the max and I’ve lost my appetite except for ice cream and a tall cold drink. It’s even too hot to go to the beach or pool and sitting under an umbrella doesn’t help much. There’s no breeze and the air is too still to breath; I feel like I am sweltering and my lungs are searing. I swear if this keeps up I’m going to melt away like an ice cube! I can’t stand it any longer. All I do is complain about the heat! I can’t wait for the winter.

It would be heavenly to jump into a hole in a frozen lake and take a dip in the cold refreshing water!

But being cold can really be very uncomfortable! It’s awful to step outside every day and feel the chill slap me in the face. Sometimes the wind whips right through me and I can’t get warm no matter how many layers of clothes I have on. Break out the boots, scarves, hats, gloves and heavy jackets. And don’t forget the snow storms and the shoveling. It takes forever for my car to heat up and I have to keep the heat on at home all the time, too. All I want to do is take a hot bath, eat chicken noodle soup, drink hot tea and jump into a warm bed. Sometimes it’s so cold I have to sleep under an electric blanket and I still feel chilly! My fingers and toes turn blue and I can hardly feel them. And I always have the sniffles! I swear if this keeps up I’m going to turn into an ice cube! I can’t stand it any longer. All I do is complain about the cold! I can’t wait for the summer.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t!

NAR © 2023
365 words

Simply 6 Minutes – Welcome to the Challenge: 07/18/2023
Uncategorized

RSVP

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Why don’t you invite Tony Bennett to the wedding?”

That’s something you might expect to hear Barbra Streisand or Billy Joel say – certainly not me! But I did make that suggestion and here’s how it all came about.

It was probably around 2004 when my son, Bill, first met Tony Bennett. I say “first” because Bill had the pleasure of working with Tony numerous times … at the tree lighting ceremony at Rockefeller Center, the Grammy Awards and other gigs.

You see, Bill’s been a teleprompter for a lot of years; he’s had the great opportunity of working with celebrities ranging from Paul McCartney to Big Bird. His jobs are as varied as crayons in a jumbo Crayola box and just as colorful. I’m not going to bore you with names but the list is impressive. That’s how Bill met Tony.

These gigs – many of which are live – don’t happen in just one take. The crew and the performers (or “talent”, as they’re known in the business) can wind up spending a great deal of time on the set. Some talent remain aloof; others, like Tony Bennett, are the type to pull up a chair in the lounge and eat lunch with the crew.

Now I don’t want to brag but I raised a good son. Bill is a hard worker, agreeable, unassuming, pleasant, attractive and funny. Tony and Bill enjoyed working with each other very much – so much so that when Tony was asked to perform at the tree lighting again the following year, he requesting my son by name.

During down time at a rehearsal in 2007, Bill was talking about his upcoming wedding and Tony happened to be within earshot. He came over to congratulate Bill and they talked about “things” for a while. Tony wished Bill “a happy life”, shook his hand and that was that – until I found out about it that night. And I said what any mom would say:

“Why don’t you invite Tony Bennett to the wedding? He just might say ‘yes’.”

I gave Bill an invitation for him to give Tony the next day. He took it and placed it in his backpack. Well, let’s just say my son is a bit more circumspect than me; he opted not to impose on Tony and did not extend the invitation. I was a bit bummed out but it was Bill’s decision to make, not mine.

Still … can you just imagine what a gas it would have been if Tony Bennett had come to my son’s wedding?

NAR © 2023

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ECHOES

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Ayr/Gray

It had been quite a long while since Celia had taken a vacation. Now here she was, hiking the Appalachian Trail; it was the perfect get-away. The day was gorgeous and Celia was surprised to find she had the trail to herself. After about 90 minutes she came upon a split in the path. Placing her backpack on the ground, she pulled out a map and leaned against a tree. Suddenly there was a startling crack as the tree snapped in half. The ground beneath her gave out and she plummeted off the edge.

Celia had no idea how far she’d fallen or where she was. She called out but all she heard were her echoes. Celia was pretty badly bruised but she didn’t think anything was broken. It was a struggle but she made it to her feet; it was then she realized she didn’t have her backpack which meant no food, no water, no bandages and no phone. Her only choice was to keep going.

She must have walked for miles. Exhausted, lost, Celia fell to her knees, sobbing. She squinted through her tears and could barely make out the shape of a cabin. Was it real? Was she hallucinating? Slowly she pulled herself up and trudged toward the building, praying it was not an illusion.

There were no lights, no signs of life. Raising her arm to bang on the door, it suddenly flew open and Celia was pulled into blackness. That’s the last thing she remembered.

NAR © 2023
250 words

The Unicorn Challenge – 21/07/23
Uncategorized

UNDER THE BAEL TREE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Amanda Forestwood

Kabir and Deepak sat under a bael tree taking a break from the heat of the afternoon sun. They shared an aloo toast sandwich while keeping watch over their rickshaws, Deepak smiling and contented, Kabir scowling and dejected.

“What is your problem, Kabir?” asked Deepak. “You never seem happy nor do you have anything cheerful to say. You do not talk about your children and how they are doing in school nor do you discuss how things are with your wife.”

“We are struggling day after day, Deepak. Nothing positive ever happens. There are bills and rent to pay. Now my wife just told me she is expecting another child!”

“Congratulations, my friend! Another child! How can you say nothing positive ever happens? This is a blessing for you and your wife!”

“You think so, Deepak, when we can barely feed the three children we already have? Now my wife will be unable to work and I will be the only wage earner in the family. My pockets are empty and I will have to work even more hours!”

The two men ate in silence for a while, then Deepak spoke. “Kabir, we have known each other all our lives. We are like brothers so I am going to speak plainly to you. How we greet each new day shows clearly on our faces. If you are negative and always feel you deserve more in life, that is the first thing people see. When your wife told you she was expecting a baby, did you embrace her and tell her how happy you were? Did you share this joy with your other children? I can see by the look on your face that you did not. Why, Kabir?”

Kabir hesitated for a moment. “Deepak, it’s true we are like brothers but you have never had to scrimp and save for the things in your life. Your children are happy and do well in school while mine are sullen. Your wife is content and radiates joy while mine is depressed. Do not try to tell me we are the same when we have been dealt a very different lot in life.”

At this Deepak became angry. “Kabir, you are a fool! Do you think I haven’t had to work for what I have? How our children grow and behave is a direct reflection of us and how we behave. How our wives feel is directly based on how we feel. If we are sullen, our home will be bleak and if we are optimistic, our home will be cheerful. Together my wife and I pledge to make the best of every day. Nothing good comes without effort.”

Having said that, Deepak stood to leave. “Kabir, it is never too late. You still have time to turn things around. May your life always be full and blessed and may your rickshaw … and your pockets … never be empty.”

Kabir sat alone under the bael tree thinking what a camel’s ass he had been. The passengers will still be here one hour from now; first he needed to go home and embrace his wife.

NAR © 2023

21 July 2023
Uncategorized

THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

A repost of a little vignette written exactly
two years ago today which many of my
newer readers have never seen.
This has always been a favorite of mine;
I hope you enjoy it, too.

“Cloak and Dagger and a dozen oysters on ice” was the order placed by a hauntingly familiar voice in the corner.

Her interest piqued, Judy Lowe leaned in a bit to get a better look. Where had she heard that voice before? Finding it a little too dim to see, she decided to go over and check out the situation. Taking her Bloody Mary with her, Judy casually strolled to the end of the bar and wriggled her curvaceous bottom onto the stool.

“Pardonne-moi” Judy cooed. “The name of your drink is tres intriguing.” The man was older than Judy expected but extremely handsome with silver hair and a rich tan. “Has anyone ever mentioned you look like Cary Grant?” she asked smiling flirtatiously.

“Never” he replied in a clipped Bristol accent as he gazed appreciatively at Judy’s decolletage. “Ah, yes. The Cloak and Dagger: the perfect blend of Blackwoods Gin from the Shetland Islands, fresh lime juice, simple syrup, green chartreuse and Extra Brut sparkling wine. It’s the quintessential pairing with oysters.

“Oh my. That sounds luscious! I’m Judy Lowe, a model from Los Angeles. And you are?”

“Enchanté, Judy. My friends call me Archie” and he gently kissed the palm of her hand.

Judy gasped; no man had ever kissed the delicate flesh of her palm. It was so European and sensual.

“Archie, would you mind terribly if I had a little sip of your Cloak and Dagger?” Judy asked. ‘A friend of the male persuasion once told me the perfect drink with oysters is a Bloody Mary and I’d like to see who’s right.”

“Oh Judy, Judy, Judy! Whoever told you that was obviously terribly misinformed or an uneducated boor” Archie teased. “No, you may not have a sip of my drink; you shall have your very own. Barkeep! Please prepare a perfect Cloak and Dagger for the lovely Judy Lowe, a model from Los Angeles.”

When the bartender set the drink before Judy, she clapped her hands in glee like a little girl and reached for the glass but Archie stopped her.

“Oh, no, my dear. This must be done right! It’s a process. First slide the oyster into your mouth and savor the taste. Delight in the pleasure; it should never be rushed. Now, follow with a sip of the Cloak and Dagger and let the juices mingle. That’s a good girl. Now swallow.”

Judy was in ecstasy. Never had she experienced anything so erotic. “Oh my God, Archie! That was beyond heavenly.”

“Let’s raise our glasses, lovely Judy, to the noble oyster and the Cloak and Dagger. May they be forever immortalized as the true nectar of the gods!”

Archie stood and kissed Judy’s palm. “And now, my dear, I must bid you adieu.” He flipped his hat onto his head, tapped the brim and left.

When Judy came back down to earth she discovered a folded piece of paper in her hand. Gently she peeled back the corners to find it was a cocktail napkin on which was scribbled: “Dearest Judy: The world is your oyster. Always, Cary.”

Judy slowly exhaled. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

Archie aka
Cary Grant

NAR © 2021

Won’t you meet me today
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I’ll save you a seat.
https://rhythmsection.blog/

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HIS WHITE COLLAR JOB

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

A solitary man sat huddled in the corner of the church pew, thinking, praying, pondering his next move, occasionally glancing at the little light above the confessional door indicating that a priest was available to listen, to advise, to absolve; rubbing his chafed neck, the man looked down at his Roman collar now resting on the pew next to him, as he contemplated how many years it had been since his ordination, how many baptisms he had performed, weddings he had celebrated, funerals he had officiated – more than he could count. 

He was a good priest – some might even say excellent – not perfect by any stretch but he was no thief, no murderer and the rights certainly outweighed the wrongs – all except THIS wrong; no one knew his secret so who was he hurting, he asked himself endless times, always able to justify his actions for even Jesus said that the sins of the flesh were human and the easiest to forgive. 

They were friends and saw each other every day at the hospital where they both worked – she as a nurse and he as a chaplain – respected, trusted and admired by staff and patients alike for she possessed an amazing ability to calm the fears of the sick and console the grief-stricken and he to provide solace in the form of prayer to the heavy-hearted and forlorn, to offer hope to the hopeless, to lay his hands on those in the throes of death and perform last rights when the end was upon them.

They told themselves they were drawn together by their mutual empathy for the suffering, which was true at first, but now the unthinkable had happened – they had become lovers, adulterers, for he was married to the church and she was married to his best friend; he was happiest when he was with her and yet this wrong which felt so right was eating him alive. 

He glanced up again to see the little light was still burning brightly – a beacon to him in his bleakness – and he knew the three lonely choices before him: confess his sins, beg forgiveness and give her up, go on living a lie and continue their affair or abandon his beloved church not knowing if she would leave her husband for him; whatever his decision, the toll would be unbearable. 

Making the sign of the cross, he rose and slowly walked toward the confessional, steeling himself as he reached out for the handle of the confessional booth but at that exact moment when he looked up, the little light had been switched off; knowing he missed his chance at forgiveness, he was despondent, his head hanging, tears falling as he turned and disappeared into the blackness of the night. 

NAR © 2023

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!