How the Wurst Was Won

/ Liz H / 4 Comments
Slot machine with cupid, rose, and cowboy boot

Source: Carrot Ranch Feb Saddle-Up Saloon

COWSINO STORY SPINE:  On the first Friday of very month, D. Avery hosts a writing challenge and month-long opportunity to talk story writing, and just general horsing around with regulars Kid & Pal at Carrot Ranch’s Saddle Up Saloon. February brings us a trio of picture prompts and the rare opportunity to play with a story spine. The following grew out of my own horseplay, so sashay on over and try for yourself!

How the Wurst Was Won

It was the baste of times, it was the wurst of times, and Thickpuddle McDrawer was up to his mustache in special orders for his Cain’t Be Beat Barbecue Special. Because of this, he once again questioned his decision to not add an extra triangle of cornbread, an oversized pat of honey-butter shaped like a rose, and some miniwurst sausages in Helene’s secret sauce to the regular order-for-two special, and then charge a buck or three more for creativity. People would pay extra for sure. History’d shown him there was something about barbecue, beans and cornbread that brought out the romantic side of those buckaroos. Continue reading →

Just Jot It Janauary 22 – Piper Moon

/ Liz H / Leave a comment

For just Jot It January, a quick write to explore the Pied Piper and one who got left behind. From Kaye’s prompt “Seasonal” (Kaye @ https://kayespencer.com/blog-2/ ).There’s still time to join in on reading or sharing your own writing. Visit the comments section here for others’ responses to Seasonal.

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He leaned his head back and felt the warm sun cut the chill on his face, and the chill of the stone bench he sat upon. He’d gone to the mountain just before sunrise, still hoping for entrance after so many, many years. It was his seasonal visit, for no one now could remember the exact day, only the time of year. They’d hurried to erase all records and smudge retellings, in shame of their greed and their short-sightedness. Continue reading →

Reversal and Gratitude

/ Liz H / Leave a comment

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 →

Doing Donuts

/ Liz H / 16 Comments

The prompts suggested by fellow bloggers and writers for Linda Hill’s Just-Jot-It January 2023 have been great sources of inspiration for revising my novel. 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 fun! 

Today, I offer up my response to the prompt “DONUT,” which has nothing to do with my novel, but everything to do with beating the doldrums and trying new things. Hope you enjoy, and try something new today!

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Doing Donuts

“And after that, you told Kevin it was the last time?” Aribeth raised an eyebrow, quizzical, if not skeptical.

“I did, and I really meant it at the time,” Claudia gazed into her cup, swishing the tea leaves in search of possible patterns or prophetic truths. “But now, I’m not so sure.”

Their wooden chairs creaked in sympathy with their discomfort at revisiting the topic once again. Same local coffee & tea shop “Bean Me Up, Scottie”, quickly emptying of the morning rush, same low murmur of the regulars and staff. Claudia had her usual blueberry scone and English Breakfast tea, and Aribeth sat with a cooling Americano in a tall mug, no cream, no sugar. A gust of wind smacked against the picture window, and both jumped at the rattle of rain and sleet. They laughed; the icy rain apparently wanted to be part of their weekly ritual, too. Continue reading →

Finally

/ Liz H / 15 Comments

Hand-Holding-Carrots

She smiled, waiting for the bell to ring, backside leaning against the desk, hands folded in her lap. She said nothing, no longer irritated by the heads bent over ill-concealed cellphones. They waited for release, too. Continue reading →