“The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.” –Albert Einstein
When you begin writing a story,
You can never be sure where your journey may take you.
When I am writing I am often surprised by what comes out at the end.
I saw it on a table at the Sunday Swap Meet. The wizened old woman answered the question in my mind, ” It’s a universal remote device. Eliminates the need for your TV remote controls, garage door opener and computer mouse. And the bright, glow in the dark colors and pattern ensure that you will never lose it.” She answered my next thought, “All that for the special low price of $5.95 and a money back guarantee.”
The insect like creatures overlooked the latest arrivals to their work camp. Pretty good return on our investment of 5 krons each for those remote transporters.
My contribution to: The Friday Fictioneers
PHOTO PROMPT thanks to– © Marie Gail Stratford
She had dreamed of that big house on the lake. The only problem was what she had to give in exchange for her dream. She had to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather.
Bunnie noticed a change in her husband since they moved to the lake. His sexual appetite and endurance has increased. She was pleasantly surprised by this but it seemed as his energy increased hers did the opposite.
She had barely started her morning jog when a sharp pain in her knee made it almost impossible to walk let alone run. The doctor told her she would have to stop doing any high impact exercise. This might delay the surgery for awhile. Bunnie responded sarcastically, “What do you mean a total knee replacement. I am only 25 years old, not 52!
The nurse whispered to the doctor, “Who does she think she’s kidding. Did you see how young her husband looked? He could be her son. ”
“I think it is early onset dementia,” the doctor replied.
“The A&B Building was made entirely from driftwood.” The Artic Brotherhood was established so that prospectors would have a safe place to socialize and someone to look after them and their families. I joined up when first coming to Skagway looking for my fortune. I had heard of others striking it rich overnight and hoped to do the same. My young wife and two little daughters waited for me back in San Francisco. Halfway up White Pass Trail the blizzard hit. The Brotherhood buried me outside of town and sent my meager belongings and the few dollars I had on me to my family. Some say they’ve seen my ghost on White Pass Trail climbing toward the summit.
“Sonoma County chefs love their local ingredients and supporting independent farmers. Menus sing with produce grown in Wine Country gardens, meats from Wine Country ranches, dairy from Wine Country creameries, and seafood from Wine Country rivers and oceans.”
Source: Top Farm-to-Table Restaurants in Sonoma County
I get this newsletter from Sonoma. Are you a foodie like me? You will love reading about all this wonderful food. One of these guys makes his own salami. I felt like sharing. Must be because I have read too many books about anti-dieting lately. In California we go kind of nuts about local grown, farm to table cuisine. (OK we go very nuts.)
Viewing Maps from Space.com
Are you planning to watch the Super Moon Lunar Eclipse? Do you know any interesting legends about the Blood Moon?
I am writing a sequel because I thought the story about Zenarra ended too soon.
“You will fulfill your duty and marry Tomar with the next moon rising,” Jolar’s words echoed in her brain. She must not allow herself to be defeated so easily.
” Yes I am of royal blood and an ancient line, much older than Tomar’s. You expect me to mate with that diseased pervert who spends his nights in brothels defiling children?” Zenarra’s eyes flashed in defiance as she held Jolar’s cold gaze. Her hand reached to her pendant as she gently depressed the center stone.
Minat heard the shrill sound coming from the monitor. She searched the screen display to locate her mistress.
Later that night the flashing lights of the police cars lit up the scene on the bridge. The patrolman remarked to his partner, ” That was some lightning strike. All that’s left of the poor bugger is those melted boots.”
“You said this sensor device was implanted at birth?” the surgeon asked.
PHOTO PROMPT © The Reclining Gentleman
Genre: Speculative Fiction
Zenarra thought the commute was worth it to have the beautiful natural landscape that surrounded her when she got home. She smiled to herself and sighed. She never thought she could be so happy.
She sensed his presence before she saw the headlights. ” How did you find me, Jolar?” she said dejectedly, ” Minat swore she would never betray me.”
” Those of royal blood have a sensor implanted at birth so that they can never be taken for ransom. You will fulfill your duty and marry Tomar with the next moon rising.”
She had a lot of time on her hands nowadays. Much more time than she had planned for. She had always told herself that if she had the time she would like to take up her art again. She hadn’t painted since High School when she was discouraged by one of her teachers from pursuing a career in art. It felt good to be doing it again. Once she got started painting she was in “the flow” like Mihály Csíkszentmihályi described it. She lost all sense of time and felt almost in a meditative state. She was barely aware of her surrounding except for the flower she was focused on capturing on her canvas. That was until she heard the sound from a TV news broadcast coming from the neighbor’s patio. Ashley Madison hack predicted to have impact on many marriages. It already had an effect on hers. She had endured his emotional abuse for years thinking it was wrong to get a divorce. When she saw his name on the website she knew it was time to start her new life. She moved out last week after she withdrew all the money from their savings account.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Hosted by Priceless Joy and Thanks to Graham Lawrence for the image above.
“She lived in a Mango Tree,” she heard the kids shout as they ran past the house. Her husband had built the tree house when their kids were little. This was where their kids spent many hours playing and even slept there on hot summer nights. She had been spending more and more time up in the tree house lately.
As she climbed the stairs she thought she heard their laughter. They shouldn’t be up here now, she thought, it’s time to get ready for school. The caregiver came to the house later that morning. When she couldn’t find Miss Grace in the house she knew where to look. She found her asleep on the old bunk bed. She woke the old woman saying, “Miss Grace you know you shouldn’t be up here. You’re liable to fall and break your neck.”
The neighborhood kids would often sing out when running past her house, “There was an old lady. She lived in a Mango Tree….”
Suspense | Horror | Romance
Fiction reviews, Bookblogger, Fiction book reviews, books, crime fiction, author interviews, mystery series, cover, love, bookish thoughts...
Writer of Words, Teller of Tales. Fluent in Profanity, Sarcasm, and Dumbassian
~wandering through life in my time machine...you never know where it will stop next~
Drift among the scribbles of writer Janet Gogerty
A blog about life in Wellington, New Zealand
...but change is certain.
The place where you can find out what Lillie thinks
Roland Clarke shares his thoughts as he fights MonSters to turn his words into cliffhangers.
My inner thoughts never shared in the real world
psychological, life, death, the whole catastrophe
Music, Musings, Memoir, and Madness
A writer inspired by nature and human nature
Shortness of Breadth
~Writer, Creativity Coach, Artist & Book Reviewer~
A fine WordPress.com site
Writing About Life
Vague Meanderings of the Broke and Obscure
An Alternative Cultural Daybook
About life, fantasy, and everything in between
Writing About Life
For lovers of reading, crime writing, crime fiction
thoughts from the forest
Random thoughts, life lessons, hopes and dreams
With Love, Hope, and Perseverance
Flaming English used to make points about English grammar, punctuation and usage but now features humorous, sometimes satirical, verses
Life in progress
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.
Writing About Life
Notes Tied On The Sagebrush 