The house wasn’t much to look at but the location was perfect. Amy had dreamed of living upon the hill where nothing but the azure expanse laid before them. And he’d do anything for his queen. Painstakingly he’d laid stones upon their foundation, planted trees for privacy, a secret garden just for her. The hammock slung along the rockery for Stacey to read in, little Brian’s crib against the far wall.
The dream so close, some days he forgot the plane was lost. Walking the halls he tried to remember their faces, hear their laughter and will himself to live.
Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! As per usual, our esteemed host Rochelle posts a photo with the challenge of writing a 100 words something. One of these days I’ll have to try another poem. Make sure to check out the other writers entries HERE.
Last time I made this trip I was flying away from him. Or was it towards the other one? Sam thought, wistfully staring through the airplane window. At 18, who can say? She pondered with a smile. Looking out she half expected to see a gargoyle perched atop the wing, matching her mood and the sky.
Who knew this is what it would take to force her to face her family.
“Please return your seats and trays to their upright position in preparation for landing.” Placing his hands lovingly around her, Craig gently held Sam’s urn tightly in his lap.
I am trying to stay in the groove and keep writing. Of course now I need to add commenting and reading more entries to my TO DO. Honestly, check out Friday Fictioneers and join in the fun. I promise it quickly becomes addictive. Best vice you’ll ever have.
For a moment it felt like college again, late night cramming, last minute paper production. I long since eclipsed this idle foolishness. Yet, here into the witching hours I race against the clock, time the reaper. I thought drawing cover art for my book of poetry would be easier. But as I inch ever closer to completion I begin to deteriorate more and more, hour glass thinning.
Doesn’t it just figure the electricity would go out? Guess it’s the universe’s way of telling this fish to swim. Ok, 2 ½ hours of battery life left to create one last masterpiece.
I know I have been lax as of late responding to comments and commenting on your stories. Mea Culpa. I’ve had a lot on my plate. I hope to have a post as way of some explanation, perhaps excuse for my internet absence. But I am ever grateful to have found my way to FF and for the community. Thanks as always to our ever gracious host Rochelle.
It’s my favorite day of the week. Friday Fictioneers has become my hump day remedy. In case you’re new to the game. Every Wednesday our illustrious host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts a photo prompt. Our challenge is to write a 100 … Continue reading →
This afternoon I watched Chase Jarvis interviewed Brené Brown on CreativeLive. The amount of wisdom packed into the hour of conversation between these two dynamos is immeasurable. There was a profound juxtaposition and balance between the creative expression of an introvert and extrovert in tandem. … Continue reading →