Fantasy, Short Story, Theme Prompt, Word Challenge, Word Prompt, Wordle, Writing Challenge, Writing Prompts

Magic Mirror

Written for MLMM Monday Wordle;
the prompt words are shown below.

call,
delete, diary, found, level, maiden,
nobody,
now, phone, reprimand, tired, vindictive

Continue reading “Magic Mirror”
Mini Story, Photo Prompt, Writing Prompts

Behind The Blue Door

Written in response to this delightful photo
by Brian Dodd at bushboys world, who
graciously allows me to share with you.
Here’s where the image took me.

Continue reading “Behind The Blue Door”
Micro Story, Word Challenge, Word Prompt, Writing Prompts

RDP Saturday: book club

Written for RDP where Punam asks us to
get creative with the words β€œbook club”.
Thanks, Punam! Here’s where the prompts took me.

Continue reading “RDP Saturday: book club”
Flash, Mini Story, Mystery, Photo Prompt, Writing Prompts

The Watcher

Our gracious host, Rochelle, is asking us to get
creative in 100 words or less using the photo
seen below. Welcome to Friday Fictioneers
This is where the prompt took me.

Continue reading “The Watcher”
Mystery, Short Story

Housecalls – Part 3: What Was Left Behind

You may read Part 2 HERE.

Continue reading “Housecalls – Part 3: What Was Left Behind”
Mystery, Phrase Prompt, Short Story

Reconstruction

Written for Jolene’s It’s Story Time.
The prompts are shown below;
here’s where they took me.

Continue reading “Reconstruction”
Mystery, Noir, Short Story, Word Challenge, Wordle

The Sorry Truth: A Dirk Malone Story

Written for MLMM Monday Wordle #461.
Our twelve prompt words are shown below.
Here’s where they took me. Thanks, Di!

petty, rich, custom, sorry, pride, worry,
try, carry, support, honest, suggest, and head

Continue reading “The Sorry Truth: A Dirk Malone Story”
Flash, Mini Story, Mystery, Photo Prompt, Short Story

The Wrong Turn

Our gracious host, Rochelle, is asking us to get
creative in 100 words or less using the photo
seen below. Welcome to Friday Fictioneers
This is where the prompt took me.

Continue reading “The Wrong Turn”
Short Story

Beneath The Surface

Written for Melissa’s Fandango
Flash Fiction Challenge – #336
.
Here’s where the photo prompt took me.

Continue reading “Beneath The Surface”
Mini Story, Short Story

In Search Of Answers

Our gracious host, Rochelle, encourages us
to be creative by writing a story in 100 words
or less using the photo prompt below. This is
Friday Fictioneers. Here’s where the photo took me.

Continue reading “In Search Of Answers”
Music Blog

Southern Gothic

This week at Glyn Wilton’s Mixed Music Bag,
he’s asking us to write about a song in which
the title or a line mentions the current month. 
Here’s my final artist for June and her song.

Continue reading “Southern Gothic”
Short Story

The Gardener

Written for WTFAIOA Pick 3 #5,
using at least 3 of the 21 randomly
selected words on the bottom of the page.

The image below from Only Murders In My Mind
Weekly Writing Prompt #59 was my inspiration.
I was able to use all 21 words in my story.

Continue reading “The Gardener”
Short Story

The Burden Of Secrets

Written for OLWG #417.
The prompts appear below.
This is my story.

Continue reading “The Burden Of Secrets”
Short Story

M.I.A.

Written for WTFAIOA Pick 3 #3.
Each week the inspirational list will
be comprised of 21 randomly selected
words; we must use at least three.
Here’s our list of words; I have used all.

Continue reading “M.I.A.”
Flash, Short Story, Very Short Story

There’s Always Something

Our gracious host, Rochelle, at Friday Fictioneers
asks us to use the photo below as inspiration

to write creatively in 100 words or less while
making every word count. This is my flash.

Continue reading “There’s Always Something”
Short Story

Swallowed Up

Written for Only Murders In My Mind
Weekly Writing Prompt #55
. This week’s
inspiration is the photo seen below.

Continue reading “Swallowed Up”
Short Story

The Weight

Written for Only Murders In My Mind
Weekly Writing Prompt #54
. This week’s
inspiration is the photo seen below.

Continue reading “The Weight”
A To Z Challenge, Music Blog

That’s Entertainment – Letter O

Welcome back to β€œThat’s Entertainment!” –
The A To Z Challenge.
I hope you enjoy my musical selections.
Let’s see what’s up today!

Continue reading “That’s Entertainment – Letter O”
Short Story

Muted Moments

Written for Muse On Monday,
where the theme is β€˜lost in a fog’.
Also for Sadje’s β€œWhat Do You See?” –
#284
and the two corresponding photo
prompts shown below. This is my story.

Continue reading “Muted Moments”
Short Story

It Is What It Is

Written for OLWG #412.
The three prompts are shown below.
This is my take.

Continue reading “It Is What It Is”
Flash, Very Short Story

Do No Harm

Well, look at that! It’s my turn in the hot seat
 place of honor at Friday Fictioneers as the
lovely Rochelle has chosen my photo as this
week’s head-scratcher inspiration. I’m tingling
with fear anticipation at the ridiculous masterful
100 word stories that await us!  Let’s get the show
on the road, shall we? This is not my photo and my flash.

Continue reading “Do No Harm”
Short Story, Very Short Story

Gilded Cages

Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing
Prompt #410
using the word β€˜opulence’ in
exactly 98 words. Also for Sue & Gerry’s
Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge and
the word β€˜silver’. This is my 98-word story.

Continue reading “Gilded Cages”
Flash, Short Story

Is There A Detective In The House?

Written for Esther’s β€œCan You Tell A Story In…..? #279”
This week we are faced with one or two challenges:
to write a story in exactly 7 words using the word β€˜imposter’
and/or a story in exactly 50 words including the five required
prompts: β€˜coat’, β€˜pie’, β€˜qualify’, β€˜Latin’, β€˜aunt’ and β€˜maze. Never
one to shy away from a challenge, here’s my two-stories-in-one!

Continue reading “Is There A Detective In The House?”
Uncategorized

On The Rocks – Part 5: The Euganean Hills

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where
we are urged to get creative in 250 words or less.
The photo below is our inspiration; this is my story.

Continue reading “On The Rocks – Part 5: The Euganean Hills”
Short Story

The Sentinel

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where
we are urged to get creative in 250 words or less.
The photo below is our inspiration; this is my story.

Continue reading “The Sentinel”
Short Story

The Harmonica

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
encouraged to be creative in 250 words or less
using the photo below as inspiration. This is my story.

He was neither old nor young and if he had memories … good, bad, happy or sad … they were long forgotten, washed away like tears in rain.

His hand reached for his breast pocket, fingers touching the familiar object resting inside. A harmonica. He had no idea where it came from nor did he know why it was in his pocket yet somehow with an intrinsic knowledge he knew it was his.

Removing the instrument from his pocket, he stared at it as he reverently caressed the wood, reading the faded inscription. Raising it to his mouth, he began to play an old tune he forgot he even knew.

People passing by dropped coins into the white cloth shopping bag at his feet. He might not remember much but he’d never forget the delicious aroma of the crusty baguette in his bag.

A little boy of perhaps eight years of age shyly approached, dropped a coin in the man’s bag and ran back to his father waiting nearby. There was something about the older man that made the boy’s father pause for just a moment.

This ritual continued for several days and the two men pensively acknowledged each other with a nod.

One day before the boy ran back to his father, the man slipped the harmonica into his hand. When the boy’s father read the inscription, he knew. He looked up but the older man was gone.

He closed his eyes as a teardrop landed on the harmonica.

NARΒ©250
250 Words

This is β€œGeorgia On My Mind” by Charlie McCoy

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NARΒ©2017-present.

Short Story

Lower Forty Soliloquy

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are asked to be creative
in 250 words or less, using this image as inspiration. This is my story

Β© Ayr/Gray

β€œWhere you been, girl? You got anythin’ goin’ on in that head of yours besides them nonsense rhymes? Your Ma’s been cookin’ all day and she sure coulda used your help with them black-eyed peas but you was nowhere to be found. You best not-a been hangin’ β€˜round that good-for-nuthin’ boy again, girl. If I told you once, I told you a thousand times … keep away from him! There’s somethin’ not right with that boy! He’ll bring nuthin’ but misery. You start messin’ around with him and you’re gonna live to regret it. Then try and find yourself a decent husband! No man I know wants used goods!
Now stop makin’ excuses, girl! I’m your Pa and I know when you’re lyin’ … just like you was lyin’ about not bein’ out by the river. You know how I know that? β€˜Cause somebody done seen ya. I see by the look in your eyes that it’s true. Yeah, you was seen by that new preacher man. And that ain’t all, girl. He said you was with that troublemaker and you had your heads together like you was plottin’ somethin’ real private-like.

I swear, girl, you ain’t got a lick a sense between ya. Stop this dang foolishness β€˜cause it’s gonna lead to no good! C’mon now, girl … dinner’s waitin‘.
Anna, your cookin’ is fit for a king!
What you goin’ on about, woman? Jesus! I seen that boy just yesterday. Now, why’d he go do a fool thing like that!”

NARΒ©2024
250 Words

This is β€œOde To Billie Joe”  by Bobbie Gentry

NB: Bobbie Gentry remarked that the message in Ode To Billie Joe revolved around the “nonchalant way” the family discussed Billie Joe’s suicide. She also said she included the verse about something being thrown off the bridge because it established a relationship between Billie Joe and the daughter, providing “a possible motivation for his suicide after meeting with her“. Gentry told The New York Times in 1969: “I had my own idea what was thrown off the bridge while I was writing it, but it’s not that important. Actually it was something symbolic. But I’ve never told anyone what it was.” The last time Bobbie Gentry appeared in public was at the Academy of Country Music Awards on April 30, 1982, almost 42 years ago to the day. Since that time, she has not recorded, performed or been interviewed. A 2016 news report stated that Gentry lives a secluded lifestyle in Los Angeles; she has refused to speak to reporters about Ode To Billie Joe or to give interviews. Β 

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NARΒ©2017-present.

Short Story

WITHOUT A TRACE

Β© Ayr/Gray

Behind the windows of this estate there once resided a reclusive couple. It’s said that everyone has a story; this couple was no exception. 

As young newlyweds they longed for a child but were unable to conceive. They sought the advice of seers and gypsies, to no avail.

Now middle-aged, the wife found she was pregnant. She was told the babe would not survive but survive it did and grew inside its mother, causing her great discomfort. Finally the time arrived for the birth. The wife labored for hours and as the baby’s head began to emerge, the midwife screamed and ran from the house.

The husband took the midwife’s place and immediately recoiled in fear. The wife pleaded for her husband to pull the baby from her body but he refused. Reaching down between her legs, the wife grabbed hold and pulled until the babe was free. Asking her husband to bring the lantern closer so she could see the infant, the new mother gasped and cried out in horror and despair. 

The poor babe was grotesque, his head enormous with eyes fused closed and his mouth a mere slit.

Without looking back, the husband left the house, heading to the tavern to drown his sorrows. He informed everyone that the baby had died. Filled with remorse, he returned home to find his wife and baby gone. He went searching but never found them. He died, a broken man. 

No trace was ever found of the mother or baby.

NAR Β© 2023
250 Words

Uncategorized

THE MONK

Typing the final paragraph of my thesis, my computer crashed. It would not start up at all. 

This could not be happening! 

The closest place that had public computers was the library. I ran there, rushing through the doors into the brightly lit room. All the computers were being used! Frantic, I explained my problem to the librarian and asked if there was another computer available. 

She brought me to a room. The door locked behind me. There was a desk, paper, a quill and a candle. And I was wearing sandals and a medieval monk’s robe. 

Where was I? 

NAR Β© 2023

100 words written forΒ Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Script

Uncategorized

BARK AT THE MOON

This was the sixth night in a row that a nightmare woke me up. I’m a sound sleeper but something was throwing me off and this past week did a number on me. I felt drained and on edge. Now it was 2:00 AM and I was craving a cigarette. I got up and scoured my apartment hoping to find a smoke – which I didn’t – and thinking about why I was having these constant nightmares. I mean, nothing different happened in my life, except I’d started smoking again. 

And there was also her.

Last weekend I went to a party and this gorgeous redhead walked up to me and asked me for a light. I’d quit smoking about eight months earlier but for some reason – call it a security blanket – I continued to carry my Bic around in my pocket. This chick was way too hot to let her slip through my fingers so I reached into my jeans and pulled out my lighter. 

I flicked my Bic and damn(!) if she didn’t cup both her hands around mine as I lit her cigarette. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, the smoke encircling her head. All the while her eyes never left mine. She had the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen and the contrast against her red hair and mouth was bewitching. Then she did something to me no woman had ever done before; she took the cigarette from her lips and placed it between mine. That move was so intrinsically sexual, I couldn’t think of anything else but possessing this woman. I took a long drag, that familiar heat singeing my lungs. 

We shared her cigarette and when there was nothing left, she took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. Locking the door, she turned her back to me and leaned against the sink staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. She hiked up her skirt and I was not surprised to see she wasn’t wearing panties. She said two words and they weren’t β€œHappy Halloween”; I didn’t have to be told twice.

Fifteen minutes later we left the bathroom together. I went to get us a couple of drinks and when I turned around, she was gone. I searched everywhere but couldn’t find her. Just like that – the greatest bathroom sex I ever had and now she was gone. And I was left craving her and another cigarette. That was the night I fell off the wagon.

Now I needed a smoke so badly I tried to salvage butts from the trash but they were all buried under a soggy coffee filter. I had no alternative but to head out to the all-night 7-Eleven

I grumbled and dragged myself out of bed. I switched on the overhead lamp and immediately cringed and looked away; the damn light hurt my eyes too much.  Squinting, I staggered into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Grabbing a towel, I wiped off and looked in the mirror. Holy shit! What I saw startled yet intrigued me. My eyes had changed from brown to ice blue. There was no denying that woman had done a number on me.

It was now 2:30 AM. I threw on yesterday’s clothes, turning up the collar of my leather jacket. Before venturing out I grabbed my shades. Stepping outside, I was momentarily caught off guard by the number of freaks walking around; then I remembered Halloween was just winding down for many partygoers. A bright moon cast strange, elongated shadows across the walls. Dressed in black clothes, I must have blended in with the silhouettes for no one took notice of me.Β 

As I entered the store I was pleased to see there was only one other customer – a nondescript woman wearing a hooded cape. I stood behind her at the register and when she turned to leave, I was blown away to see it was the redhead from the party. She looked directly at me, gave a little laugh and left without so much as a word. I was glad my dark glasses hid the lust in my eyes. I quickly bought my smokes and bolted from the store.

I looked up and down the street; nothing – she was gone. Then I spotted her standing across the street watching me. β€œOk” I thought. β€œThis is gonna be interesting.” As soon as I started heading toward her, she turned and began walking away. She walked slowly, her cape swaying side to side, and I followed her just as slowly. She took her time and I had no doubts she knew I was there. She climbed the steps to an old apartment building; I followed. She casually walked up three flights of stairs and down the hall to the last door where she stopped, removed a key from her pocket and unlocked the door, leaving it slightly ajar as she stepped inside. If that wasn’t an invitation, I didn’t know what was. I entered the apartment and closed the door behind me.

The room was awash in moonlight streaming through the window where she stood staring up at the night sky. I lit a cigarette, took a long drag and handed it to her. She placed the cigarette between her bright red lips, took a couple of puffs and tossed it out the window. She turned to face me and shrugged off her cape. Of course she was naked; I would have been sorely disappointed if she wasn’t. She loosened her hair and a cascade of long crimson tresses escaped and flowed silently over her flawless body. Her hair shimmered in the moonlight; the fragrance of strawberries and honeysuckle filled the room. She was intoxicating.

She drew me closer and parted her lips in a sultry smile; it was then that I saw her delicate fangs. I was aroused, my cock throbbing. A deep passion rose in me and I groaned with a fierce hunger. I turned my head and willingly offered her my neck. She feasted on me, then gave herself up to me with shameless abandon. 

Whatever I had become that night didn’t matter. Nothing mattered any more. My savage blood boiled as I barked at the moon.

NAR Β© 2022