As Far As The Eye Can See & Beyond – Fiction

Time for this week’s Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers.   It begins anew each Wednesday.   100-150 words more or less to do with   the photo below  (photo changes each week).  I’ll put the link to this week’s stories at the end of this piece.  Blogs, like this, are such a great gift for writers – and I believe readers,  too.  Pass on by – click on the froggy at the end of this story.Huge thanks to PJ for hosting this for us.  It’s so much appreciated.

This is another attempt to expand my poetry into a story.  I’ve posted the poem after my story.  Thanks for reading this piece.

prompyAs Far As The Eye Can See & Beyond

“We will keep going,” Grandfather said. He dipped his battered oar into the water and pushed our small boat forward

Father held me near to him and Mother’s arms enfolded my younger sister. We were looking forward; away from all we were leaving behind.

There was nowhere else to go except to the other side of the lake and higher land. Night was falling in all around us. The rain was blinding and cold and hit like glass shards upon our faces. Distant lightening hinted only an endless body of water. My sister cried each time the thunder clapped.

“We’re almost there,” I said to her. “Stay strong, chéri.”

“We’re almost where?” she asked.

A lone snowy egret, an unusually free-flowing sentry, had been following us. It suddenly soared high and away with the wind. A strike of lightning illuminated a distant shore.

Grandfather smiled triumphantly. “Keep going?” he asked.

Ellespeth

So, if you’re interested, I’ve tried to expand this poem into the story:

Notes From A Calliope
Some days
don’t seem worth swimming to
find me there
praying behind the Cathedral
– listening to an old calliope –
on my knees in the rain
remembering you
and that you could not swim.

Ellespeth

The photo is from Ady, author of the blog, The Bourne of Infinitude.

There’s One More Thing I Meant To Say

You took me to a fancy dinner party tonight.  Well, let’s put it this way, I let you take me to a fancy dinner party tonight.

At first, I wanted to decline the invitation.  Nice family we’ve met before.  The woman who owns the place is about my age and just as nuts.

You seem to believe that I’m some sort of sociable person and that I’ve made you more sociable since I’ve moved out here.  I’m not a sociable person.  I don’t know where you ever came up with that idea.  I’m incredibly shy :(

I was raised to socialize and be congenial and pleasing at all times.  So…I can easily play that part but…

Nothing suits me better than our tiny living room and listening to Miriam Makeba and the room is lit by that lamp with the reddish shade we found out in our condo lobby.  I feel pretty ‘socialized out’ – tired of it.

You’re tired.  Socializing is exhausting for both of us.  Isn’t there a hidden forest somewhere calling our name?

Ellespeth

image thanks to pixabay.com

When Trees Mattered In Life

image from bing

I woke up this morning to the sound of a tree cutting operation going on outside our condo building. Get dressed and go down there, the electric company is trimming TWENTY-TWO FEET off a redwood tree that’s been here since before this block was developed. I spoke to the foreman about permits and notifications – this is private property – and his cocky self told me that the almighty power company doesn’t need permits that they can do whatever they want.

BULLSHIT! I thought. We’ll just see about that.

I called the city. Some yuppy city manager idiot came out spouting his training manual on how to keep the electric and gas company happy. I told him he really must have spent a long time memorizing the book in order not to talk like a human being and that I WANTED THE TRIMMING TO STOP UNTIL OUR HOA IS NOTIFIED. He said it was necessary in case of a storm. LOL! We’re expecting a powerful rain storm here in California anytime soon? I told him.. They’d do better to replace the gas pipes under our property before we blow up like San Bruno did.

So the work has stopped until our HOA is notified…but the power and gas company is rich and powerful and greedy. I know the tree is going to be trimmed because, you know, a storm might come along and some people might not be able to Twitter and Facebook.

I’m so sad. I’m so angry. I’m so angry :(

It reminds me of this song:

When Cash Meant Something In Life – Fiction

Time for another installment of   Friday Fictioneers  hosted by Rochelle.  100 words or so based on the image below. Click on the froggy link (after this piece) and come join us!

When Cash Meant Something In Life

One morning my sister,  Iris,  and I were walking to work at our family’s antique store.  It was early,  but the New Orleans French Quarter was already bustling with activity.

For several days, we’d been watching the progress of workers making some sort of hole in the wall at the old Hibernia Bank building.  We were quite amazed that this sort of hole in the wall could even be allowed in such an old Spanish era building.

On this particular morning, the work had been finished.  Atop some odd-looking post office box contraption read:

ATM Machine

“What do you think that means?” Iris asked me.

Ellespeth

photo prompt – © Dee Lovering

Picky Hummingbirds and Music and Flying Away

Argggg!  The hummingbirds – the ones we know that feed from our balcony feeders each dawn and dusk and snack times in-between – are refusing to use our new feeder.  We have the new one and the old one out.  We’ve switched positions – trying to get them used to the new one.  No luck for the new feeder,  but they are still liking the old beat up and now patched old one.  Reminds me of this song from so long ago.  I hope you will enjoy it :)

Ellespeth   

Pine and Chinkapin – Fiction

Time for this week’s Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers.   It begins anew each Wednesday.   100-150 words more or less to do with   the photo below  (photo changes each week).  I’ll put the link to this week’s stories at the end of this piece.  Blogs, like this, are such a great gift for writers – and I believe readers,  too.  Pass on by – click on the froggy at the end of this story.

Huge thanks to PJ for hosting this for us.  It’s so much appreciated.

Pine and Chinkapin

Just beyond the grounds of St. Mary of the Pines,  bordering right on the graveyard,  is Cypress Knees Swamp.  Snowy egrets circle round and,  in spring,  the scent of wild wisteria and blooming magnolia can almost overwhelm a person. The steadfast pines stay prickly and green. The chinkapin drops crimson leaves each fall and blooms anew each spring.

St. Mary of the Pines used to be a boarding school and a convent.  These days, it’s a retreat center.  I was there to lead a Marriage Retreat.  I hadn’t decided if I’d have the group dance and journal or create some sort of artwork.

“What do you mean you’re going away for the weekend to lead a Marriage Retreat?”  Owen,  my husband,  had asked as I was leaving .  “How can you possibly be of any help right now?”

Our open marriage experiment was failing.  One of us had fallen in love again.  We hugged.  We cried.  I drove away.

In the end,  there was dancing that weekend.  So much had changed.

Ellespeth

photo prompt thanks to © Dawn M. Miller