Sigh, the entire growing up thing is never easy, is it? There is always so much to endure and navigate. Often we are just treading water, sometimes floundering, as we learn. Doubts rear their ugly heads . Inspiration lifts us up. Everything shapes us, good and bad. At ten, we do not quite grasp how much stretches before us. Some of our innate innocence still exists. At least some of us have time to accept ourselves.
Awww, this is a poignant ode to a loving canine friend. You have expressed how loyal and loving a dog can be. Your gratefulness shines through. It is a shame that our dogs do not live as long as we tend to do. They shine bright for a brief, resplendent time.
Aww, poor Joey. You have created a most sympathetic character in this boy struggling to survive an unpleasant situation. His life as he knows it has been turned upside down. I side with Joey. "Say what?" This is a clever use of the prompt words, especially hide.
This is a delightful story. I really cheered for Nosedive and admired his tenacity. The message is to never give up. Keep trying your best and accept the help that is offered. Not every skill comes easily. Some require a bit more effort. Children would recognize their own struggles and encourage this wee bat to perfect his landings. Nosedive and his friends could be quite the illustrations in a children's book.
First of all, hugs to you from one big sister to another. Being the eldest is not always rosy, eh? I laughed at the wondering if you were looking at the correct window, perspective is everything. Being siblings does not always guarantee a relationship as you know only too well.
Creative twist here. The banal game of hide and seek carries horror-movie over tones. You never know where a prompt will take your story. You describe the narrator's growing apprehension as ominous suspense. The delight of Abby is palpable and realistic. She delights in not only hiding in a great spot, but frightening her sister as well.
I laughed reading this description of the invincible kingdom of two mischief makers. Where would those two be without their imaginations? What fun could they concoct if not for their ideas? How to describe a dilapidated home? "A crumbling front porch where spiders paid rent."
Haha! Is that why we choose to endure living with a partner? Do we crave that intimate level of insults? Do we need a person to not only notice our faults but keeps tabs on them? I can see so vividly that mad crush to enter the barbershop. My hubby discovered electric clippers and he mows his own hair, well, what's left of it. He prefers that low maintenance aspect. Thanks for the images and the laughs.
Yep, people with no sense of humour dampen the work-space aura. This is a funny take on the who's on first comedy sketch. The ol' I did answer your question, but, okay, I'll repeat myself. I found all the names in this story amusing and that makes them memorable. "Folklore has it that trees from this area was used to make Lincoln's log cabin." I suggest the was should be a were. "When they asked me I would politely tell then name" should have a the added as in the name. Thanks for the laughs.
This is a poignant, thoughtful poem. I admire your ability to put your grieving into words, coherent words. Yes, this mood might be the most prevalent during the Christmas holidays. Family is such a focus then and the ones that are absent are keenly missed. How creative to weave the lines from a carol into this. The title is a somber play on words. Hugs.
This is poignant and wonderfully crafted. I sense themes of loss that coincide with the passing of the seasons. Loss of a partner? Loss of a grandparent? Loss of cognitive self to dementia? I like the images you have created, and the rhyme is not forced.
Well, this tale of marital strife and a camping trip to reconnect morphed rapidly into something else. How it must have burned to realize her husband was right about feeding the animals. That closing line is a macabre bit of humour. I enjoyed the unrelenting pace of this story. My interest never lagged. Alas, I have one wee niggle to mention. At the beginning of this tale, you spelled raccoon as racoon.
Reading this I was as surprised as the narrator when they discovered the once missing mayor underground in a rum cellar. This is a new take on the ol' adage any port in a storm. If you need to sleep somewhere, why not next to kegs of rum. This was a pleasure to read and the dialogue flowed.
I like the premise of this story, one sister asking another to invest in her well-being. The ensuing conversation is realistic, however, it is you are or you're not your. This is an imaginative response to the prompt. Thanks for the read. Millie and Jennifer could be featured in more stories.
You have described the bustling and the spooky atmosphere of Halloween. There are so many frightful and unique characters roaming about. I like reading this poem aloud. It has a great deal of good ol' Halloween'ish words such as creaking, eerie, and fright. "Ghost, goblins, gremlins". I like the repetition of that letter g. May I suggest ghost also be plural? I see the parade of trick-or-treaters in my mind. A gfeat deal of fanfare is devoted to this one particular night.
There are so many little touches in this story and they add to it. First, the name of the avid talker is Gabby Glib, how apropos. Silent Sam becoming parched forcing out a few words is descriptive. The name of the restaurant is unique Talk of the Town. This alludes to gossip. Haha, designated listeners? Within fifteen minutes of accepting the wager, Gabby is already suffering and biting her tongue. "Perchance to scream!" That urge to speak is strong within her. Once a gabber, always a gabber.
Well, this explains the out-of-this-world goodies that many shops sell. They are indeed ethereal like their creators. I could see this short story as an animated feature. I cannot fathom pulling up stakes and vanishing because of a rumour. What a shame, Casey has been ghosted.
I am a Canadian and while searching for something to read and review, I espied this piece. In the realm of anything is possible, I laughed at this bold claim. If any Canadian spikes their mumblings with an eh, it is the Francophones. I kinda like the sound and premise of Nordica. If this had indeed occurred, it would have to be a helpful American making it his business to intercede. "Mugs of syrup"? As if. Canada born from "a campfire squabble". Why not?
Damn, I enjoyed laughing my way through this tale of woe. Yep, I tittered at someone's duress. The writer is in a fine damn pickle in a darn town lacking a positive, meaningful name. Huh, whatever, it's the Dam Town. I really guffawed at the writer's name. Thanks for the grin on my face.
A hospital gown costume? Yep, too many of us have revealed ourselves in one of those. The oh so haute couture piece of draping designed by Dr. Seymour Butts. I have no doubt that would turn heads and cough up some laughs. I noticed a misspelling. "Obvioulsy" is obviously.
Ah, dad jokes. Often they are indeed groaners and eye-rollers. It is probably safe to say they are corny, but they do get a reaction. That is the point though, isn't it? A Dad likes to feel seen and heard. Great use of the prompt by the way. In a limited amount of words you tell a story.
I commiserate with these poor harried souls forced to co-exist with a master partier. Thanks to your writing, I know have an image stomping in my mind's eye. I can see Larry in all his resplendent colours as he hosts his nightly soirees. I must admit that I have never before seen a Malabar Giant Squirrel described as a carnival float. I tittered at the 911 dispatcher daring to refer to the inconsiderate attic neighbour as a rodent. Yep, Larry appears to be a party animal. Thanks for the laughs.
This is a great short story. You created magic with those three, random prompt words. An elderly man has vivid memories associated with strawberry milk and a straw. He remembers a strong, loving mother in his flashbacks. Those are the best memories. You've illustrated just how strong our senses are in triggering memories.
I laughed at the young driver's final words. Beware those jumping trees. As if drivers do not have enough distractions and dangers to consider. I like the premise of this short story. It is treated as a mystery with an anonymous tip delivered by a phone call. Dad becomes the investigator. Great use of the prompt.
This is a delightful story making great, creative use of the prompt words. I like this character, Jack. He is indeed a " cute, clever, courageous boy". He has what the Irish refer to as the gift of gab. He is a charmer. May I suggest an edit of this tale with punctuation in mind. After dialogue that is tagged by words such as she giggled, or she said, a comma is used not a period. Thus, "Maybe a bit," she said giggling while taking the flower. There are a few run-on sentences, but they are easily fixed and separated by a period. The dialogue is flirtatious, yet believable.
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