FALLING

 The nice folks at StudioPlus 30, inspired by the new season, gave FALLING as one of the writing prompts for this week.  Meanwhile, Trifecta has BLIND as the  word prompt this week.  The combination of the two prompts inspired me to write something that has not Autumn-y at all.   If you are inspired to

A LITTLE GIRL’S LOVE

“Rose for you, Mommy.” Edith’s dismay at another wasted tissue turned to smile when she saw Margarette’s rolled up paper. Inside, “I love you” was scrawled by six year old hands. _____________________ This post is a response to Trifecta’s weekend challenge : “You already know where we’re going with this.  We want you to give

I AM AUTUMN

I have danced all that I can until my limbs got tired and the music faded with the last echoes of the wind ’til nothing was left but the pregnant stillness the quiet of waiting. I have sung all the songs I can sing with the whistling of the wind and the voices of the

THE STALKER

He was approaching. She swooned. He passed her by. She followed, discreetly. He saw her,  and smiled then laughed. She exalted, swooned some more, then blushed – a hanger dangled from her schoolbag. —————————– Except for just one event, this story is true.  🙂 Years ago, when I was much younger, I had a flaming

NIGHT FALLS

The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction.  She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.  She gazed at that beloved face, its eyes closed, a smile tugging at the lips. “Wake up!” Her mind screamed. The click

(DIS)QUIET

Amanda woke up with a start. Shaking off her sleep, she listened. “Odd,” she thought. The home was quiet.  The silence, in fact,  woke her up. She looked around the living room, walked to the kitchen, listening. She suppressed the worry that was worming into her head. She went up the steps and checked the

CAROUSEL – Part 4

I have been meaning to continue the story that began with this post and continued here and here but my family and I  have been mostly in and out this summer that I could not focus on the story.  That I discovered Grimm did not help because I found myself watching its entire season in

A LOVE STORY

“You must be a writer,” said the email that Imee just received.  “Hmmm, did this, Jack or somebody,  even pay attention to what I wrote?  My  info was  lifted from the Bible.” She thought.   She was not very impressed, to say the least.  However, out of  charity, she typed in a polite response  to Jack.

MY REASON FOR BE… OH! BLOGGING

I am queen of a small realm where words are limited. “Don’t do that!” “Eat your vegetables.” “Please don’t quarrel with your brothers!” “Goo goo, cutie patootie.” Those words are the backbone of my daily repertoire. The motiff hardly varies unless one counts the screams and the sighs. Little children, though capable of understanding a

DH

Need made her fly to a foreign land where like a slave she minded her masters’ home and child that she can feed her own little ones now hungering for their mother’s love. “DH”, short for Domestic Helper, was a piece inspired by the countless women who, in order to support their own families, leave