Friends, Fun, and Frivolous Fridays!
Friends, Fun, and Frivolous Fridays!
She wished things weren’t the way they were, running from invisible phantoms that only her friend heard.
Candlelit dinners were the exchange for childhood sleepovers with required nightlights. Then, her friend’s eyes looked like gems caught in the cross-hairs of flashlights and moonlight. Now, with only the half-height wax watchmen, those same eyes were kissed with insanity.
No, she didn’t miss being kissed by the created characters of her friend’s mind, the ones voiced with cartoonish voices. She tuned
I deem it unnecessary to write a snippet in the first person, because I am the first person to tell you I enjoy it – no!
(Or, the short response to the “Story a Day” challenge for Day 4 (quoth the Buddy Bear, ne’ermore!)
How well do you do, dear writer, with stories in the first person?
The challenge today was a 100-word drabble.’Forget that plan,’ said the cat. ‘No need to babble.’
(Or what happens when you mix Merriam Webster’s word of the day with A Story A Day’s challenge, and pasting the last thing you (don’t remember that you) copied and complete, utter nonsense.
An Invisible Thread
Blame it on the state Mom was in, or the frame of mind brought on by the holiday. (Scrooge could look downright cheerful in this relay race of misery). Either way, Forest ignored the complaints, instead, adjusting the invisible thread tied about at the waist, meant to help with the pail full of water and pebbles. The puppy was going to gain up on them, so Forest had to raise the pails higher.
It was all Forest could do to not toss either pail at the mayor, who had to ramble on and on about the airplane he was going to purchase, if any of the tax payers’ money might remain. The baleful look in those beady little eyes made Forest squirm, wishing more and more that Forest could turn the Mayor into a worm!
The last thing she wanted to do was to have to take care of a dog. She hated them – dogs, cats, birds, any animals, really. And yet, the happy brown puppy found its way into her garage, again.
Grumbling, she put on her snow boots, then gloves, coat, scarf, and hat. Maybe, just maybe, as she shoved the path from the garage to the mailbox, the dog might find a car to chase after and a new family to call ‘home.’
For every shovel-full of snow she tossed to the side, the puppy jumped in an attempt to eat half of it. She smiled, despite herself. Hints of her baby brother, Benny, could be seen as white powdered the brown. Always jumping up for the unnecessary, the silly, the pure joy.
“Keep it up, you won’t have no room for steak and eggs when we get back, Mutt.” She didn’t plan on having steak and eggs for breakfast, content with the usual bowl of oatmeal. But the morning seemed to warrant a change, and not because of the year on the calendar.
Who knew the new year would bring a four-footed friend she’d admit to claiming as family.
Happiness is carving out time to play this weekend with the different write-ins and a book release party, too! (If you haven’t picked up your copy of The Unwitting Journeys of the Witty Miss Livingstone or Black Poodle Over Seven Hills, why not?!)
Total word count thanks in large part to the Mystery Tour Writing Marathon – 4415 written today. Might add a few more before the crash!
What fun write-ins have you attended? What discoveries made with your works in progress?
Fiction from Photos
Where Stories Go Sideways...Sort of
All Is One With Our Creator
The Unwitting Journeys of the Witty Miss Livingstone
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
Desperately trying not to be basic.
Never stop dreaming, 'cause the day you stop dreaming, is the day you stop living.
Reflections on Life through poetry, essays and photos