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Short Short Story, # 2022-1

Ten minutes.   He  said it would take them ten minutes to get to to the best view of the valley.     That was two hours ago. She had to stop and photograph every little bug, flower, cloud, and rock she saw on the trail. No way was he going to see her again, thought Walt. He won’t take any of her calls. No text messages, no nothing, damn it.   “That bend is coming up. Just over the rise!” yelled Walt at Agatha’s back ascending even further up the slope. He doubted she would want to see him again either. She could hear his uneven breathing, he figured. That’s why she’s so far ahead. Walt stumbled, falling face down on the rocky trail. As he struggled to get up, he sputtered and coughed and hacked and gagged, and made all sorts of sounds he never knew he could make. “Relax, relax,” said Agatha, stroking Walt’s back with a firm, gentle hand. “Slowly take a deep breath. Now, release slowly. In, out. In, out. Think of your happy place, see it, be there. Breathe deeply, in, out, in, out.” “Wh

A Hand Up

Time for Art for Fun Friday , which is hosted by poet and artist Gillena at Lunch Break . Thank you, Gillena!

The Quercus Among Us

1. Some time today (or tomorrow, or the next day), I’ll pull out the oak seedling next to the mailbox. I hope it’ll be easy. It’s more than a foot tall. Could it be considered a sapling? 2. I thought it was a holly plant so I left it alone last year. Who doesn’t like holly come Christmas season?  3. It turns out we have quite a few oak seedlings growing around the house. Some have volunteered in pots, some in the ground.  4. The birds and squirrels must’ve heard me say it would be nice to grow an oak tree or two.    Who else would’ve brought the acorns and dropped them at random? 5. The Husband thinks the acorns were introduced by me. I tend to pick up acorns with the intention of planting them, but they mostly are left in pockets, the car, and forgotten safe places. 6. More than likely, the few acorns I didn’t stow away, I cavalierly tossed in the yard, invoking Mama’s incantation of “If they grow, they grow.” 7. So, yeah, acorns have sprouted all over the front and back.  8. Oaks bel

Want to Go Outside?

 Missy Molly the pinky-nosed (wilde) Cat was perfectly content lying next to the heater vent, getting all cozily warm. “Besides,” she said, in her best Jimmy Cagney voice, “I know those guys aren’t real. See.”

Sunday Q & A

Fifteen things start the questions off at this week’s  Sunday Stealing hosted by Bev Sykes of Funny the World . So, here go I. 15 things that make you smile:  The Husband, Missy Molly the pinky-nosed (wilde) Cat, friends,     rain, a sunny day, flowers, bees pollinating flowers, birds visiting in the yard, a project done to my satisfaction, green hills, singing, painting, gardening, dancing, and hugs 14 things that make you frown:   exclusivity, meanness, bullies, tagging, tailgaters, people not listening to each other, wilderness cemented over, litterbugs, liars , spammers, greedy businesses, politicians not willing to work with others, arrogance, and rudeness 13 things you see everyday:   the sky, flowers, trees, cars, houses, TV, iPad, books, fruit, indoor plants, journal, pens, and dust 12 things you have always wanted to try:   hike the whole Pacific Crest Trail, paddle an outrigger canoe, scuba diving, visit Italy with the Husband, drive cross country with the Husband, pedal my b

An Unfolding Tale

I’m participating in a new meme (for me, that is) called Friday Writings , which is hosted by Poets and Storytellers United . Fragment #1 “Come on, Honey. Let’s take you home now,” said the kindly man in blue holding out his hand to the grey-haired, naturally tanned woman sitting pertly on a stone bench in front of the Veteran’s Memorial Building. Six feet away, among tiles commemorating military veterans, was her dad’s, the only connection visible to her past.  The short stout woman with knees far younger than her walked steadily beside the middle-aged escort who reminded her of the son she did not have.   The sun was halfway to the horizon. Be home by sunset, her parents had told her so very long ago.  (to be continued…maybe) To read creative poetry and prose from other bloggers, head over to  Friday Writings .

Dancing Wild Grass

Wild grass of some sort grows through a crack on the patio. I like how they dance in the wind, which is my excuse for not pulling them out. They also offer a photo opportunity. Click, click.  I experimented on this photo with the filters available on the iPad. My focus was on the lighting. :-) Time to join up with Art for Fun Friday , hosted by poet Gillena at Lunch Break.  Come along, if you please.