I spent the last week in Camas, Washington at a TLC Women’s Writing Retreat. The experience was regenerating as I’d been experiencing a serious case of writer’s block. The prompts and encouragement got my juices flowing again!
If you’ve never given yourself a well-deserved gift to fuel your writing spirit, I strongly recommend this!
Mary
Dad picked her up every weekend since the divorce and they went someplace “fun”. This week they were going to the amusement park.
After a day of rides, laughter and cotton candy, he returned her to her mom’s new condo. “Here we are,” he said brightly. “Don’t forget your teddy bear!”
“Love you Dad,” she shouted as she reached the front door.
“See you next week,” he hollered out the window as he waved goodbye.
Once inside, she peeked out the window. His head rested on the steering wheel as his shoulders wracked with sobs.
“I miss you,” she whispered
An odd site in the Midwestern sea of concrete, the Whaling Walls provided ire and familiarity to the daily commuters.
She’d driven by this wall five days a week for the last 18 years. She had welcomed its cool waters in the oppressive heat of sweltering summer days. Each winter, it promised warmth and hope in the depth of never-ending days of subzero temperatures and lake-effect snow.
Retirement scared the hell out of her. The fine line between who she was and what she did was blurred.
The tumbling wall was symbolic of her carefully constructed life. Here today, gone tomorrow.
“Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun!”
“Huh?” the pimply-faced 16-year old asked for the third time.
“Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun!” I sang again with a wide smile on my face.
“Ah, I’m gonna have to get my manager,” she moaned with a roll of her eyes.
“Maam, what can I do for you,” the 19-year old manager politely asked.
“Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun!”
“Special orders do upset us.”
“Oh,” I sighed. “Then just give me a Big Mac.”
Heart racing, she ran until her feet would no longer propel her forward. The sea of wet, fragrant moss welcomed her tortured body and soul as she sank down allowing it to envelop her.
She heard the pounding of his feet from a distance. Skeeter ran alongside his master barking an ominous warning.
Through swollen eyes that could shed no more tears, she watched the moon emerging from behind the strata of clouds and felt oddly at peace. Her battle had been well fought, but she had lost the war.
Cold nose pressed between her eyes, she welcomed the end.
The glass soldiers stand at attention, each with a story to tell.
The first, discovered in 1961 behind the barn of my great grandparent’s farm. It was the same summer that Bessie’s tail stung my eye as Grandpa Jens taught me to milk a cow.
The green one, barely noticeable as my foot brushed its side as I wandered through the dense brush in search of answers in the weeks following my son’s death.
The purple one – uncovered by my grandson on a recent walk through those same woods – joy lifting his innocent face.
If I could save time in a bottle…
Sometimes you wonder where the inspiration for your story will come. I posted this story and sent the link to my friend, Ann. She wrote and told me that her father passed away on December 23 and her holiday has been anything but joyful. She said that this story made her laugh. I thank God for planting the memory back in my head on this cold December day when the actual event happened nearly 7 months ago. I thank God for giving me the words to make my friend laugh.
2014 was filled with many hills and valleys. I lay awake in the middle of the night struggling to think of great moments in the last year. “Think, think, think” I tell myself. And then I smile as a memory floats in.
In early June, a co-worker, Ann, and I went on a work-related overnight trip to Boston. It is my…
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Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 1,800 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 30 trips to carry that many people.
Looks like North Korea has us by the short hairs…and we cave!
“It’s okay, John, don’t be afraid. They just use their outside voices sometimes when they talk to each other ‘cuz Mommy says Daddy doesn’t listen.”
Mikey cowers under his blankets and continues to whisper. “We gotta pick up our toys and no more peeing in our pants when we get ‘fraid. We gotta be good all the time and Daddy will stop yelling and Mommy will stop crying.”
As footsteps approach, Mikey quickly closes the cover on John’s wooden box as he puts his best friend away for the night. Mommy’s tears fall on his cheek as she kisses him goodnight.
Bugs! Ewwww! This week’s prompt was a tough one and took me an extra day to come up with something, but it was a great mind challenge!
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Thoughts, Words and a Blog 