Sunday Calls From The Cell – Flash Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge.  This week’s photo prompt is provided by Enisa. Thank you Enisa!

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Here is the photograph and my story:

Sunday Calls From The Cell

When I first moved from Iowa to San Francisco,  I’d call home at suppertime on Sundays.

“Mom.  Hey!” I’d say. “What’s cooking?”  Sometimes,  wanting to sound all grown-up and happily living on my own,  I’d have to rehearse those first few words.

“Pot roast and football,” she’d consistently reply.  Could have been basketball or baseball.  Always pot roast.

“I can smell it from here.”

“Are you settling in alright, Bella?”

“I am,  yes.  Just can’t wait for you and Dad to see the place.  It’s colorful in an abstract way you’d like.”

The place was a 500 sq foot studio with a view overlooking a Trader Joe’s parking lot.  The top-level had a jogging course.   Cameras everywhere.   And that neon colored wall visible from blocks away.

“We can’t wait to see it,”  Mom would say. “We should come this winter.   Take advantage of that great climate you have.”

“Let’s plan on it,”  I said during one such call.

“Let’s,” Mom replied. “Here,  sweetheart,  talk to your dad.”


(168 count)

Just For Now Somewhere Else – 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.  Drop by to read or write or both 🙂

Thanks to  PJ for hosting this each week.  It’s so much appreciated.

pj'sJust For Now Somewhere Else

Have you ever had a longing just to hop a boat and sail away into another reality?  I know, right?  But listen up all you non-believers and head-shakers.  Once in a lifetime, though maybe not your lifetime,  these sorts of moments do actually happen.

“It’s only a few bags,  honey.   Just put ’em in your car and drive me to the pier,”  I implored.  “I wish you’d come with me.  I have an extra ticket.”

“Dad just died and you’re going cruising the world for a year?”   my son asked.  He eyed me as though I had some suspicious intent.

“That’s right.  Your dad bought these tickets the day before he retired.”  I met my son’s gaze. “He’d expect me to use mine.”

“But Mom…I mean…honestly.”

“Don’t be so much like I’ve always been, Bud.”  I reached out and embraced my son.

“I don’t know, Mom.”

“It doesn’t seem proper, does it?”  I asked.

“I don’t know, Mom.”

“It’s probably not proper  But I’m going cruising today.”

“I know,  Mom.”

“Coming with me?”


photo thanks to

I Love You Regardless…

This is a rant. Stay tuned if you dare and don’t say you were not warned…Of course, choose your own ellipsis and I’ll choose mine. That moment when we both stop listening. That moment when the point we are each trying to make means more than anything 😦
She may be your daughter but that doesn’t mean it’s ok for you to say you are waiting for grandchildren. She may be your daughter but…
She may be your daughter and, you know…she has a long way to go with me and  I don’t have kids and I love you more than I love your kids and… I know you don’t like to hear this but it’s true.:  You have to stop telling your kids you want to have grand kids. That’s so old-fashioned. I love you even when you say these sorts of silly things to your daughter but…
How can someone I love and would lay my life down for even imagine saying something like that? You are a nuclear physicist. You are brilliant. What would make you imagine that you had any right to even enter into this sort of personal decision?
You say: Oh Ellespeth, you must skype or email her (your daughter).
I say: Are you kidding me? Why would I even ever mention such a personal subject with your daughter?
You say: Because you don’t have kids and you know how it feels.
I say: Huh? Just stop talking to her about it. LOL!
OMG! You must stop this 😦 Not because it’s none of your business but because your daughter – in my opinion – is not ready to be a parent 😛  I love you. You’re a great parent now. I’ve only known you since you were 59. Hahaha!  I love you, sweetie.  I love you even though you’re not a grandpa 🙂