FFAW- Writing in the Blanks

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Footy and Foodie. Thank you for our prompt!

“Last rays of light are like the end of a dream.” Trudy softly speaks as she swirls the red wine in her glass.

The Sun slides into the lake with a broad orange stripe left behind.

She taps her pen against the paper pad.

“Ok, End of a dream.” Trudy downs the wine in one swift move. “Is this a good dream or bad one? Maybe a little more wine will help.”

The sky pulls down its purple night shade. A few stars twinkle into view. A cool whisper of the wind rustled the reeds in front of her.

“End of the bottle is like a bas dream.” Trudy looks into the bottle hoping for more. “Oh wait, I can use that.”

115 words

Reblog – I write because…

More from everyday inspirations.  If you have a few minutes go to the original and leave feedback. 😀
I write because it is a way of sharing my experiences, of preserving them in some way so that they are never lost? I write because it is a way of expressing myself, particularly those feelings that completely overcome me, that make me feel alive or are completely new. Those feelings that I can’t and don’t want […]


Reblog – Being Present…

I’ve taken a couple days {or more} off writing. I’ve not written on this blog, I’ve not written in real life. I’ve made phone calls I’ve needed to make, taken my children on field trips, done a lot of gardening, and had my phone on mute. I’ve been focusing on the Margin in life, but […]


Reblog – Five Photos Five Stories: Day 3

The reason for my five photos five stories found below.  If you never stopped by her site then I’ll bring it to you.  This is how you do a challenge!
The procrastinator has just barely squeezed in her third story before Day 3 ends. This is Five Photos Five Stories! Thanks again to Helen Espinosa for the nomination! The rules for Five Photos Five Stories are as follows: Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or […]


Today’s a Gift

There’s a cane house over looking the blue green Caribbean.  In the distant past, raw sugar cane sat waiting to be processed.  Today, there’s something else waiting.  No sugary sweet smells.  Just the stench of what was.

The tourists walk by, stop and take selfie.  But the cobblestone building doesn’t invite you inside.  Seneca wasn’t asked, she just ended up here.  Not a holiday trip of a lifetime.

The sugar sand beach stretches a couple hundred yards to reach the water. Behind lies a parched cluster of palms. They are a little more worse for wear. Behind-the-scenes guys weave fish, flowers, and hats from their leaves. This is the trail grin which she came.

Seneca wakes up in what seems like an oven. Hot stale air burns lungs and the smell of rotten food and urine assault her nose. Battered, more than a little bruised. The question we ask too much in life appears on her lips.

” How did I get here?”

The Runaway Yancy

It’s been two hours since her disappearance.   Her phone has thirty two missed calls, fifteen massages, and a half dead battery from internet searching.   The girl with raccoon eyes and perfectly done hair is still in shock.  Her “whose the stunning bride. .. this one! ” T- shirt is as out of place as she is.

The three searches have come up with the IRA.   From both sites she’s either part of a banking family or Irish terrorists.  “It would be so cool, if they mixed. … oh we can invest your money in building. …err think the city nect dir will have a big project after we blow up downtown.”  A girl’s thoughts can get vicious.

She had rolled into a new place.  A town where she’s a stranger.   Forgetting she’s a stranger to herself.  First step get rid of t-shirt.  The Goodwill store is the first stop.

After a chit chat, a girl can find a nice place and drink by the night at the Cat’s Cradle.  This is her new life fraught with danger and adventure.  

“Hell, yeah!  I can do this.   Beatrice Donovan would!   I can be anything I want now.” Defiantly she walks past the “No  Touching the Girls” sign.  She will take this town. 

Every trainwreck has a start:

Khrysoar – Picture It and Write

Minerva’s temple was a distant memory. Khrysoar, himself never cast his sight on his much malign mother. Raised in great wealth, his fate was from glorious solider to owner of a herd. One doesn’t need to be fall so far when the blood of gods course through your veins.

Its was time to call upon his brother. He would find something of his mother. Perseus had cowardly slain his mother. Attacking in her sleep was no way for demigod to perish. His father told him to live, not avenge. Pegasus owned him a couple of favors. It was the to call them in.

The damage to medusa was severe, her children sprung from her neck. The evils of turning people to stone was a myth, surely her family would do the same. Never had Khrysoar seen it done.

Pegasus flew him to the seen of the crime. It was empty. Many years had passed. Legends grew, memories faded.

A temple girl named Aja, was applying herself with oils and flowers. Khrysoar spoke to get her attention.

When she looked. .. She turned to stone.

Almost Three


The day we plan for …wedding day. The magic time was 3. Betty and Jonathon a pair of thirty year olds with 200 family, friends, and somebodies brought along. The church and tower filled to over flowing with teal and white.

The din of the crowd inside the church is almost overwhelming. The nervous group of brides maids look themselves over. They are giddy. In other room, the groom party is starting to celebrate early.

The preacher is lighting the candles. The photographers are digging in their positions. The organist starts to tap a couple of notes. Babies are starting to fuss. Time is crawling to 3pm.

From the back of the church, a door pops open. Jonathan is choking on anxiety. He’s making a run away attempt. This is just way too much.

“Oh my god! Betty… she’s gone. . How could she leave like this? ”

148 words

Rachel’s Dream

Some dreams end like a setting sun.  Some crash and burn, leave you with whiplash when reality jerks you away.   Once in awhile, they make you search every room of your house.

“It was you” Rachel’s breath is heavy, labored almost unsure it will be followed by another.

“Come out.  We can never forget each other! You bastard. … you bought me for ten years…. not a lifetime… it’s been four lifetimes.  I know you’re here!” In every room she screams this out.   Banging her hands on walls, pots, boxes, any loud noise to announce she is here.   Her presence couldn’t be larger as she storms about.

Her mind spins.   A dream, no dreams fade away quickly. The gossamer stands break the illusion from your eyes.  Dust in the wind falling faster and further the more you chase it.   The ghost has vanished.

Her mind clicks back the years. Dr Van Strip, she knew the stench. The memories that haunt, energize, agitate, swirl everything in her. Her family feel away, he pushed them off. Twenty pounds of silver… Her family gave her away. She was ten of thirteen kids. At twelve, she was one less mouth to feed.

Rachel sinks to the floor. Her memories of ten years as a servant, the nasty old doctor used every bit of her. She lost innocence but that was the easy part. She watched the death follow the good doctor. People feel sick and there he was. It wasn’t tell the fever took her, the dark secret came.

Dr Van Stroop spent a full ten years taunting his little Rachel. He took every advantage of her. Her life was better then a poor girl between swill farms on the Peidmont of Carolina. The ten year servitude period was coming to an end. He legally should set her free. But his kind doesn’t follow every rule of man. With a bite, she would be infected. She would choose to life his way or pass.

Her mind falls back to the worst thing she ever said “Please take away my pain.”

October 17, 1779. The last day she would walk the earth as a woman. That was the good doctor’s plan. Two hundred forty plus years later. .. Her pain is back. Stem cells changed her life. But there’s a ghost chasing her.

“What happens if he catches me? Oh, God. Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone. ..” He voice and her fall flat to the floor.

Rachel’s dark secrets. …

Favorite Book

This is part of a stream of consciousness writing challenge. Precious Joy, http://pricelessjoy.co/, is who choose topic of favorite book. Five minutes of writing with no editing. The topic changes. See bottom for victim list


My favorite book of all time, “Something Wicked this Way Comes” by Ray Bradbury. It’s a story of boys just turning thirteen.   Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway are best friends and neighbors sharing every waking moment together.   Will has prefect family life wuth older parents.   Jim has no father, and is disparate to get old to leave this town.

A week before Halloween, a night train cries out to the boys.  Dark’s Pandemonium Shadow Show rolls into town in middle of the night.   The barber tells people about the smell of ladies from foreign lands and cotton candy.   Flyers now down the street. Empty store had banner announcing circus.   A strange parade goes through town.

Dark’s plan is to feed on the desired and wants of the town.   Drawing puerile in with special lure of the fair.   A showdown with Will’s father provides a climax.   Could you choose telling where your child is or being young enough to play with them?

A dark (pun, sorry) and Dark tale.

Word count is 164

These are the rules:

Open an MS Word document (or Pages)

1. Set a stopwatch or your mobile to five minutes or ten minutes, whichever challenge you think you can beat.

2. Your topic is at the foot of this post.

3. Fill the word doc with as many words as you want. Once you begin writing, do not stop.

4. Do not cheat by going back and correcting spellings and grammar with spell check in MS Word (it is only meant for you to reflect on your own control of sensible thought flow and for you to reflect on your ability to write the right spelling and stick to grammar rules).

5. You may or may not pay attention to punctuation and capitals. However, if you do, it would be best.

6. At the end of your post, write down ‘No. of words = ______’ so that we would have an idea of how much you can write within that time frame.

7. Do not forget to copy paste the entire passage on your blog post with a new topic for your nominees and copy paste these rules with your nominations (at least five bloggers).

8. Please put a pingback to this post on your completed free-writing piece.

So let’s go with favorite movie line. .. and a little of it means to you
And if you are reading this and have five minutes, let’s see what you have to say