The room was decorated in Marnie’s  trademark girlish fashion – bursting with pink and lace.  I stood out like a fly in the punchbowl.  I wasn’t invited.  Not to the bridal luncheon, and definitely not to the wedding.  Our friendship was long dead.  I was only there to show Marnie there were no hard feelings.  I smiled warmly as she gratefully accepted the wrapped gift from my arms.

When I heard the loud burst from the hallway, imagining Marnie’s ivory dress dripping with purple ink, I smiled wider. On second thought, I’ve never been that forgiving.


A sort of sideways take on the Moral Mondays prompt, which is Bless Those Who Curse You.





Another chapter in the neverending saga of Paul and Alexandra, Katie thought as a perfectly good wine glass shattered against the far wall, red wine streaming down the stark white paint like blood.  Alexandra, the glass-thrower, screamed at Paul that he’d never loved her, that no one wanted him there because he was an awful person.  Paul retorted that Alexandra was over-the-hill, desperately, pathetically, trying to hold on to her youth and failing miserably.  Katie stood, throwing her hands in the air.

“ENOUGH!”  Katie shrieked, rattling the windows.

Alexandra and Paul immediately quieted, turning to face Katie in shock.

“Haven’t the two of you ruined enough family gatherings?”  In the preceding years, Katie and her siblings had gone to ridiculous lengths to keep their bickering parents separated, and she was fed up.  She turned to her mother.

“I invited dad here. I’m getting married tomorrow.  He has as much right to be here as you do.”  She faced them both sternly.  “Both of you should be ashamed. Your children are embarrassed of you.  If you behave this way tomorrow I’m having the both of you thrown out on your butts and you can argue in the back alley like a couple of hillbillies.  This nonsense,” she swirled her finger between the two of them, “is over.  Do you understand?”

Her parents stared back at her in stunned silence.  She stepped closer.  “I said – DO…YOU…UNDERSTAND?”

Paul and Alexandra looked at each other, then responded in unison.  “Yes, ma’am.”

For Sunday Photo Fiction




The first 22 years of my life have been a frantic race for this day.  I dreamed of it as a girl, talked about it endlessly it as an adolescent, and after I met him, started planning it in secret.

The car stops in front of our new address, a gorgeous showstopper of a home.  I stand in our mostly empty living room, my heart slowly falling into my belly as my new husband tromps up the stairs. The decades in front us stretch endlessly into the unknown as I slide to the floor.  What happens now?

The six sentence story prompt this week is Address.



They returned to the ocean as it seemed to all be slipping away.  It was to be their final goodbye.  She felt the wind swirling around her, remembering reciting her vows at that very spot.  The sun had turned the green flecks in his eyes golden as they were pronounced man and wife.  He stared back at her as he had on that sun-drenched day, touching her face, the tips of his fingers grazing her cheek, the base of her chin.  As she looked back into his eyes, though the sun had long since retreated, she thought she could spy the hint of gold in them once again.


This is the combination of two prompts, the daily post – Beach and six sentence stories – Base.




Jamie had known that Ethan was planning to propose for months – it was just a matter of when and where.  So, when she woke up that morning to a note from Ethan telling her she was being treated to a day of beauty, and a chauffeured car outside at the curb, she did an excited twirl.  Her day had finally arrived.

After a day of primping and shopping, she was driven to Brimham Rocks, a collection of beautiful rock formations.

Jamie tapped the window, confused and annoyed.  “We’re going here?”

The driver shrugged.  “Those are the directions I was given…”

He led her to Ethan, who immediately dropped to his knee and proposed.  Jamie accepted.  It wasn’t perfect, but at least she was engaged.

“Uh…Ethan?”  The camera guy that had shadowed Jamie all day interrupted the moment.  “Sorry, camera wasn’t on, missed the big question…”

“Ugh!  Ethan!  What kind of person did you hire!  What’s the point of this if no one sees it?!  How will people even know we’re engaged?!”

“We’ll just do it again.  Right, guys?”  Ethan turned to the crew, who were nodding in unison.  He slipped the ring off Jamie’s finger and stood.

“And action!”


For Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner

Read more about over-the-top proposals here.



“Scott and Cassie, we have an amazing gift for your son!”   Cam Hartman, the host of Forever and Ever,  a long-running reality dating show, produced a tiny guitar.  “So he can be a musician just like daddy.”

“Thanks, Cam.  I love it.”  Cassie rubbed her six-months-pregnant belly.

Scott and Cassie, as Forever and Ever’s only success story, were beloved.  Every other Forever and Ever couple had only lasted a few months.  Scott and Cassie were the only ones who’d made it down the aisle.

“You’re quite welcome, guys!”  Cam faced the cameras.  “The reunion continues next with our newest couple, Tracey and Rick!”

Cassie and Scott made their way backstage, passing an arguing Tracey and Rick in the hall.  Jack, the executive producer of the show, handed Scott an envelope with a wink.

At the hotel, in front of a roaring fireplace, they opened it, their eyes widening at the number of zeroes on the check.   Their son would want for nothing.  They toasted their friendship with sparkling cider as Cam’s gift burned to ash.

For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers





Kinda Sorta


“Amie – do you promise to cleave to Michael, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

The officiant’s icy glare frightened Amie, causing her eyes to scan the room.  She caught the eye of someone in the audience – a friend of Micheal’s perhaps?  He was gorgeous, soulful brown eyes, broad shoulders, and those lips, wow…he was one of those guys you could look at and just know they would be a great kisser…but, Michael, and a secure, happy future, were staring at her in expectation.

She crossed her toes. “I do.”


The cue for the six sentence story challenge this week was cleave.



“Jack, will you marry me?”

Christie was on one knee, wearing a one-shoulder red gown, a replica of the one Cate Blanchett had worn to the Academy Awards.  She was presenting her boyfriend of one month with a beautiful custom-made white gold engagement ring, encrusted with tiny diamonds.  The orchestra she’d hired reached a crescendo.  They were playing the theme from the The Notebook, her favorite film.

Christie believed in making her dreams come true.  She even had a dream collage for 2015 taped up in her bedroom.  It was covered in pictures of wedding gowns, floral arrangements, and honeymoon destinations.  That was all she wanted for the year that was almost over.  She decided in January to approach her love life the same way she approached her career.  She was the youngest VP at her company at age 26.  She was the only one of her friends who owned her own home.  How did she achieve her success?  By not giving up!  By asking for what she wanted. If one door shut in her face she banged hard on the next one.  Why not approach romance in the same way?  Why didn’t more people approach it this way?  Go big or go home!  That was her motto.

Jack was stunned, but quickly recovered.  “Uhhhh…sure!”

She squealed and jumped to her feet, kissing Jack wildly.  Leaving documents listing all of her assets and healthy account balances scattered around her home had been a shrewd move.  She knew Jack was broke.  She’d resorted to picking up guys in the parking lot outside the unemployment office.  Hey, it was November, desperate times called for desperate measures.  The important thing was she’d achieved her goal.  A wedding in December.  A winter wonderland theme.  Or maybe Frozen

“I love you,” Jack whispered in her ear. A lie, but that was okay.  She’d make getting him to love her next year’s goal.  Her 2016 collage was almost finished.

In honor of NaNoWriMo, I’m going to post a new flash fiction story every Monday in November – each incorporating either the word National, Novel, Writing, or Month.  Original right?  🙂  Thanks for reading.


Few knew about the castle hidden inside the island.  It was perfect.  Now she could have the private, dreamy, romantic fairy-tale wedding she’d dreamed of since she was a girl, away from the prying eyes of photographers.  Her other dream as a girl was to be a famous actress; she had no idea how much that dream would cost her.

She peeked through the window, taking in the glorious day.  Was that –  a camera lens?  Incensed, she ran down the steps and out the door in full wedding regalia.  The camera flashed.  The angry starlet on her wedding day – the tabloid headlines would read.  She snatched the camera away; body-slammed the weasel on the ground.  He screamed for mercy as she placed her foot on his neck.

“This is private property!”

She handed him his damaged camera and he scurried away.

He must have forgotten I do all my own stunts.

For Mondays Finish the Story Challenge!