Blog Update


Hi everyone, just wanted to let you know that I will be taking a break from  blogging for the next week or so.  I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather so taking a week off from work and blogging to rest and recover.  Thanks so much for stopping by. Be back soon!


Green Eyes



The cows did her in.  All through dinner with her daughter, her ex and his new wife, she’d been internally patting herself, and her ex, on the backs.  What mature parents they were, still getting along years after their divorce.

Now that Sean had remarried, to a girl 10 years younger than she no less, everyone asked Sonya if she was angry, or jealous.  Her answer always was the same – she was thrilled for him.  Madison made Sean happy, and she was a wonderful stepmother to their daughter.

They moved to the living room, Sean’s and Madison’s living room, for dessert and there they were, sitting on the mantle.  The pair of psychedelic ceramic cows, the ones she’d found in a flea market on their honeymoon.  She loved those cows.  They’d gone missing during the last years of their marriage, and at some point she’d just stopped looking for them.  But now they were here, on Madison’s mantle.  Her heart caught fire as she blinked back tears, staring at Sean’s hand on Madison’s slim thigh.


For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  and inspired by one of my favorite songs about heartbreak, Green Eyes.



The bags of snacks nearly cover the kitchen table.  Every person will get a granola bar, water, and an apple.  Plus a dog/cat treat if they have an animal.

“What on earth are you doing?”  My mother asks as she comes through the door.

“Getting ready to leave.”  I load the bags into a box.

“What is all this?”

“I pass a lot of homeless people on my way to work…”

“Honey,” she says in the condescending way that I hate.  “You can’t save the world.  Hard as it is sometimes we have to look away.”

I can’t look away.


The Moral Mondays prompt this week is love conquers all.



London was just what Sasha needed.  She was stagnated back in the States.  She could barely think anymore or breathe.  Getting up in the morning and doing simple things like shower and dress and prepare breakfast seemed monumental.  She exhausted herself just thinking about it.  But not here.  This morning, she leaped from bed, before Flynn even.  There was always something new and different to experience everyday in this foreign place, and Sasha couldn’t get enough.

They were viewing their 10th flat of the day and Sasha was in love.  An updated sunny kitchen, and a cozy bedroom that got the perfect amount of natural light.  It was just the right size for the two of them.

“I’m sold,” Sasha said to Pippa, their realtor, who nodded her shiny blond head and turned to Flynn.

“I’m not sure.  The bedroom is very small…”

Sasha groaned.  “We’re going to have to compromise on some things, babe.  This is the best we’re going to find in the city.”

Flynn kissed her temple to placate her.  “I’d just like to see a few more places before I make up my mind.”

Sasha relented.  “Fine.”  It was Flynn’s work that had brought them here in the first place.  She owed him.

As the trio left the flat, Sasha missed the faraway look in Flynn’s eyes as he stole a glance at their gorgeous realtor.

Sweet and Sour

Ted Strutz

“Here you go, mommy!” Spencer thrust a bouquet of wildflowers into her hands.  Maggie was so touched by her son’s thoughtfulness, but couldn’t help but notice that the stems were a bit damp, and that the blooms smelled a bit…sour.

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Welcome.  I dipped ’em in the toilet before I gave ’em to you so they’d smell good.”

Maggie shrieked and ran to the bathroom, dropping the flowers on the floor.  As she scrubbed her hands in scalding water, Spencer appeared in the doorway, confused.

“But, Mommy,  I thought you liked toilet water.”



For Friday Fictioneers

I Am A Thief

light blinding

Rhonda shielded her eyes from the blinding light as she stepped from the dark subway tunnel.  The sun was high.  The first person she saw was a stranger, standing in the middle of the sidewalk.  “I AM A THIEF,” read the sign he wore over his chest.

Rhonda, overcome with curiosity, approached him.  “What did you steal?”

“Some DVDs.”  He spat into the gutter and Rhonda tried not to recoil.

“From where?”



He shrugged.  “Done it before, thought I could get away with it again.  Make some quick cash.  Judge said 30 days in jail or wear the sign all day.  Picked the sign.”


A car zipping by honked the horn and he waved, like a politician angling for votes.

“Well, it’s pretty hot out here.  Want a drink?”

He shrugged.

Rhonda ducked into a corner store and grabbed a water.  As she meandered through the aisles towards the counter to pay, she stopped, dropping the bottle in her purse and heading to the front door, a subtle smile on her face.

“Ma’am!”  A stern voice called out.

As the cops led her away, the man looked at her briefly, then recoiled, as though he were disgusted.

For Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner

Woman arrested for failing to return VHS

Written for the Story a Day prompt – Change A HeadlineTake A News Headline And Change A Word Or Two, Sparking A Fictional Story.

Here’s the link to the original story: Man arrested for failing to return VHS; movie’s star Tom Green weighs in

Source – Pixabay

The holding cell they stuck me in is surprisingly clean, and empty, nothing like the images I’d conjured in my head.  Scenes from movies mostly.  I’d expected aged streetwalkers in bad wigs shrieking at each other and heroin addicts shivering in dark corners.  I inhale deeply and smell nothing at all.  Despite my somewhat favorable surroundings, I’m furious.

“Why am I here?!”  I yell at the arresting officer approaching my cell.  “All they told me was that I had an outstanding warrant.”

The words ‘outstanding warrant’ sound so ridiculous coming out of my mouth I have to stop  the corners of my mouth from turning upwards in a smile.  I’m the most boring person I know.

The officer smirks in such a condescending way I want to smack him.  “The warrant is for ‘failure to return rental property.'”

“What?!  I haven’t had to rent a car in ages…”

“Not a car,” he looks like he’s about to laugh and I’m so angry I’m nearly seeing red.  “A movie.  Crossroads on VHS staring the incomparable Britney Spears.  You rented it from a Turtle Video in Georgia back in 2002 and never returned it.”

He’s full on laughing now but I can barely hear it.  I’d completely forgotten I’d brought over a movie that night, but I can see it so clearly, like it was yesterday, laying on the passenger seat of my old Toyota as I pulled into the driveway.  It must have burned in the fire, like everything else in that house.   I’d run and never looked back.

“Don’t worry ma’am, we think this is as ridiculous as you do and we’re getting it all sorted out now.  By law we had to bring you in.”

I nod and lean against the bars, stomach churning, wondering if my past has finally caught up with me.


The story continues…

Part 1 – Wallflower

Part 2 – Smoke




“Duck,” Layla commands as we turn down Adam’s street.

I’m crouched in the tiny space in front of the passenger seat, my cheek pressed to the dash.

“OMG, he’s just sitting there in his living room, like, reading a book or something,”  Layla says as though she’s disappointed.

“I told you he wasn’t cheating on me!”

“I just didn’t think it was possible for one guy to be that…that…perfect.”

I did, I think to myself as we drive away.


The prompt for the six sentence story challenge this week is duck.



Thursday Thriller – For Anna


“Jess!”  He exclaims as I come in the room.  He always exclaims when I come in the room, like I’m a long-lost friend, not an office minion who works in the cubicle just outside his palatial corner office.  He’s almost right though.  We have a history.

“Hi, Gregg.  I pulled your car around front.”

He claps his hands together and smiles as though it’s the greatest news he’s ever heard.  “Great.  Ride down with me?”


We’re silent in the elevator on the way to the lobby, which is unusual for Gregg.  He always seems eager to fill the silences whenever I’m in the room.  He’s uncomfortable alone with me, yet he always seems to want to be alone with me.  I push the red button.

“What is it?”  He looks at me with a mixture of titillation and confusion.  I step closer, snaking my arm around his waist.  His body feels chiseled and muscular beneath his suit.  He smells like rich leather.  I stand on my tiptoes so I can whisper in his ear.

“She told me about you, you know.  She told me what you did.”

I step backwards, so I can see his eyes widening with realization.  The framed picture on my desk of my childhood best friend, Anna. Our mutual acquaintance.  The funeral I attended just last week, the life she decided she didn’t want to live any longer.

“I was just a kid…” he sputters.

“You were old enough to know better.”  I turn away from him and press the release button.  We’re moving again.

When the doors open again, he pushes past me in his haste to get out of my presence, racing across the marble floors to the revolving front door.  I stand at the curb and watch him zoom out the parking lot much faster than normal.  I don’t flinch as he loses control of the car and smashes into the dividing wall, turning his car into a pile of bent metal and smoke.


Written for the Story a Day prompt – Write what you know.  Write a list of things you know about. Pick one. Give that knowledge to a character.

My inspiration – as a child, a friend told me about something awful another kid had done to her and swore me to secrecy.