Category Archives: Short Stories
Another piece of the fairy tale
Mavelle checked her boot and was pleased to find her knife was still safe inside its sheath. “At least the troll hadn’t the wits to search me. We have your slingshots and my knife. I wish this were the crystal knife though.” Her heart lurched in her chest. “Cragger! I hope he’s alive.”
Lovena sniffed. “Last night was cold. Tonight will be colder. Can you start a fire?”
“Yes, I have a flint in the handle of my knife.” Mavelle set to work lighting a fire. Before long, they had a crackling good one going.
Sarah stood close to the fire rubbing her hands together. “I thought I’d never be warm again.”
Mavelle and Lovena sat next to each other; Lovena rested her head on her sister’s shoulder and asked, “Will we get out of here?”
Sarah scoffed. “How can you be so sure of that?”
“Because as long as I have a breath in me, as long as my heart beats in my chest, I will try to get us home. Unlike you, dear sister.” Mavelle spat those last words out.
Posted in Short Stories, Writing
Tags: Author, Doggoned, Fiction, Life, Love, Multiple Sclerosis, Writer, Writing
A fictional scene I might use…
I remember that they all thought it was fun to gang up on me. I shoved my fists deep into my pockets because my parents forbade us to fight. I tried to walk away. Those three older girls weren’t going to give up. One of them shoved me so hard that I fell on my face. Road rash on my cheek burned.
That did it. I got to my feet and proceeded to whale on all three of them, it didn’t matter to me that they were much taller and outweighed me. I saw red. When I finished, all out of breath and drained of anger, the girls had bloody noses and black eyes. They were running away.
My parents got a phone call that evening. Those girls’ parents wanted me to apologize. My father took to me the home of one of the girls. All the way over I shook with anger at the indignity of having to apologize to them. When my father saw how much bigger she was than I, he told the parents he figured the three older, bigger girls owed me one hell of an apology. They could call on me the next day. We walked home hand in hand.
You all have a good one!
Posted in Short Stories
Tags: Author, Books on writing, Craft of writing, Doggoned, Fiction, Multiple Sclerosis, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Once upon a time
A long, long time ago a poor lad discovered a strange pathway through a nearby forest. No one ever traversed the forest for fear of the ogres and beasties that dwelt within.
Every day for a week he walked to the path, stood, and stared down its length as far as he could see. Which wasn’t far for the forest gulped the path down into its black maw a few yards beyond the edge of the trees.
“Tomorrow I’m going to follow the path and see what lies beyond the edge of the forest,” he said to himself every day, but he never did it.
Do you put off entering the forest or do you follow the path and seek out the unknown?
I’m following the path…
You all have a good one!
Posted in Short Stories
Tags: Author, books, Bull Terriers, Craft of writing, Doggoned, Multiple Sclerosis, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Coins…a punny story
I had help with my blog tonight. Good thing too since I was too tired to think straight.
A spokesperson for the U.S. Mint announced that a new fifty-cent piece was being issued to honor two great American patriots.
On one side of the coin would be Teddy Roosevelt and on the other side, Nathan Hale.
Asked why two people were going to be on the same coin, the spokesman replied, “Now, when you toss a coin you can simply call…. ‘Ted’s or Hale’s’.”
Thanks Jimjim, I needed the giggle.
Posted in Short Stories, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Post A Day, Post A Day 2011, Writer, Writing
I bet you say that to all the ghouls
He pointed to a vellum document, held a quill pen out to me, and grinned. “Sign here.”
His smirk made my veins feel as though I’d plunged into a winter lake. “I don’t think so.”
“It wasn’t you, who only moments ago, swore you’d sell your soul to finish writing your books and have them published?” His eyes glowed red.
“Well, I may have said it, but I certainly didn’t mean it.” I willed my heart to stop its wild rampage in my chest. “Who the heck are you anyway?”
“I’m not the devil if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m one of his lowly ghouls, a minor minion. However, if you sign here…” He held out the document again. “Your wish will be my command for the minimal price of one soul.”
“No sale buddy.”
“Don’t be so hasty.” He sighed and leaned against the doorway. “Here’s how it goes, Toots. If I go back without my quota, I have to face the music. That music is horrible.”
“Tough, as far as I’m concerned…” I stood and placed my hands on my hips. “You can go to hell.”
With those words, a clap of thunder rocked the house and the ghoul disappeared.
Posted in Misc, Short Stories
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Post A Day, Writer, Writing
Death by Cuddles
“Henry went to the garden to chop down that old grape vine. That was two hours ago.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Detective Hayes wrote in his notepad. “Then what happened?”
“I heard a commotion. I came outside. Cuddles had that bloody board in his mouth. He was knocking over the potted plants.”
“You mean that two-by-four the Bull Terrier is playing with? You say it has blood on it?”
“Yes. I couldn’t get Cuddles to drop it. He ran by and cracked me in the shins. I went down hard. He ran past again and hit my head.” Victoria showed him the purple bruises on her shins and the knot on her forehead.
“That must’ve been quite a shot.”
“Oh, it was.”
“Tell me about Henry.”
“I was getting to that. Once I could walk, I went to look for him. I’m sure he killed Henry.”
“Yes, Cuddles killed Henry.”
“Where was the dog?”
“I found him with Henry. He was licking Henry’s face. I ran back to the house to call for the ambulance. When they got here they said Henry was dead and called you.”
“I’m placing you under arrest.”
“But Cuddles did it.”
Posted in Dog related, My blog, Short Stories, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Breeds, Bull Terrier, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, comedy, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Dog, Dog humor, Dogs, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Pets, Rescue Dogs, Rescues and Shelters, Short stories, Terrier Group, Writer, Writing