Reversal and Gratitude

Here’s a two-fer for Linda Hill’s Just-Jot-It January 2023, combining Sadje and Carole Anne’s prompt words. They just seemed to flow together in a stream of consciousness story. We’re only half way through the month, but if you want to play (read others’ posts and/or write your own) here is where you go to join in! The prompts are:

Reversal (Sadje @ http://lifeafter50forwomen.wordpress.com )

Gratitude (Carol Anne @ http://therapybits.com/)

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January 13 – Reversal

While it wasn’t exactly a face palm, her forehead did wind up lowered into her left hand, head tipped to the side. She gazed at him from under her curtain of curly bangs, unable to believe what she was hearing now. Her elbows dropped to the dark wooden table as her left hand met the right and clasped her mouth. She sighed and looked at him straight on. “How in the hell did we get to this place?” Continue reading

Make-Believe 1 and 2

Northern Lights over a mountain

Make-Believe 1

The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “KNOT”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories

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Nora, back curved tight over her lap, raised her skirted knees to block the naughty northern breeze’s attempts to unravel her close work; raking a hand across the back of her neck to free her pale blond hair sticking to her sweaty skin, she yelped as she accidentally ripped several strands from her scalp. Continue reading

Π Night

The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “VAULT”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories

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“Bring that light a little closer, willya…and stop breathing down my neck,” murmured Peter as he cracked his knuckles and wiped his hands on his night tunic. Continue reading

Who’s Being Tamed?

Just Jot It January

(Looking & Mission, Jan 20-21)

Hunched just behind the shrub-encircled tree, he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s grown to love the sunny-morning scent that precedes the screech and bang of the screen door, the soft pad of bare feet on cold, painted cement, followed by the softer hush of those feet crossing the grass. The wooden chair groans as she lowers herself onto its cool slant and tucks her legs out of the dew. Continue reading

Well, Why Not? (Part 4)

Sister Indelicata left the cacophony of squeals and laughter behind her; the tall, hardwood door sneezed delicately shut, blessing the happy, healed family. Indelicata’s bare feet whispered swift and sure, softer than the guttering of the beeswax candles that provided more scent than light. Continue reading