Writings

Writings
Miscellaneous Writings and Musings

Maelstrom

Maelstrom
A genie and her rock band

(Novel and Short Stories)

Steal Tomorrow

Steal Tomorrow
Murder, Mystery, First Love, and the End of the World

(Novel and Short Stories)

My Books and Stories

My Books and Stories
Where to Buy, Read, Download

Endings and Beginnings

She had come to know these crooked lanes and narrow alleys well. In fact, she had memorized them, along with all the city’s hazards and delights. Living here had been both a challenge and a hard-won opportunity, but life’s haphazard events had a way of changing one’s priorities. So it was with much regret that she now packed her bags. What would home feel like after being so long away? Well, she would soon find out.

She went down the stairs, opened the door and paused on the front step. “Goodbye,” she whispered softly, then stepped out into the street.
This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers.

All Grown Up

The damage was intentional. Of that, Betty was sure. Her brother had goaded her for months to give up her toys and “grow up.” But what was so grown up about abandoning her friends? And who needed to be grown up at eight years old? She checked Teddy, Chango and Delilah for lacerations, but they seemed fine, except for the mud. Should she take them to Mom? No, she could fix this herself. She got the biggest bowl she could find, then sprinkled in some of the kaleidoscopic crystals of Mom’s laundry detergent. Soon everyone would be good as new.
This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Karuna.

Modern Woman

Violet meandered wistfully through her bedroom. She didn’t have to go. Staying and waiting for a boy to propose would be easier. But she had never taken the easy way out. That’s how she managed to become her high school’s first female valedictorian and win a scholarship to Vassar.

Her father was contemptuous of her ambitions, but she didn’t think much of his oafish views. The world was too exciting a place to be just another nameless housewife.

She slipped on her shoes, straightened the seams in her stockings, and picked up her suitcase. Life was going to amazing!


This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Magaly Guerrero.

Roommates

The timing was bad.

“It’ll have to wait,” Maria said.

Todd concurred. “If we’re to reach a lasting agreement, we can’t get distracted.”

Susie took the pizza out of David’s hands and smiled knowingly. “Sorry, greedy.”

David sighed as she took it away. On the sofa, Todd resumed talking about the bills and Maria chimed in about the rota for household chores.

“People also have to stop eating each others’ food without permission.” Susie added.

Meanwhile, the treat in the other room whispered David’s name. So while the others jabbered, oblivious, he slipped away and gave in to his cravings.





















This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Dale Rogerson.

Dream Boat

Oh, how he wanted to participate in the regatta! But all Ben had was his grandfather’s battered dinghy. The old boat was weathered and barnacle-encrusted, with a mast so flimsy it could barely hold a sail. Turning this around would be a chore.

He could, of course, buy a new boat, but he liked the thought of trouncing the competition in this humble craft while the crowd erupted in applause. Yes, he thought as he headed to the hardware store, he was up for this. He was going to make something of this little boat and everyone would be dazzled!


This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Fatima Fakier Deria.

Crime Stoppers

Trey pressed his face against the bars. Nobody had lived here for years, but the owners had left furniture, crystal, and who knew what else behind. He intended to use this information to his advantage. Trey never worried about breaking into places. His babyish face and innocent smile always got him out of a tight spot if cunning failed.

He clambered over the fence and headed across the lawn. Suddenly he heard the baying of dogs. He turned and ran, two Rottweilers in close pursuit. This place wasn’t abandoned after all, and charm wouldn’t get him out of this one!












This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by J Hardy Carroll.

Objet d'Art

It couldn’t be done, they said. No one could create such a grand object on such enormous scale using only hand tools and some rusty scrap iron.

“What’s the point?” they asked. Why spend so much effort on an object of curiosity when one could spend one’s time more productively?

Aaron deflected the naysayers with a vigorous shake of his head and disappeared into his workshop. After weeks of effort, late one night he finally moved his great work into position. Taut with expectation, he waited for daylight and the stunned faces of the townsfolk.

They had always underestimated him.



















This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Jennifer Pendergast.

Family Dynamics

She had been on her feet all day cleaning and cooking, chasing after the children and trying to get them relocated into a single bedroom. Their two uncles were coming and since one worked for Greenpeace and the other was a climate change denier, there was no way they could bunk together.

With a languid sigh, she settled into the window seat and waited for their arrival, only to be startled by a high-pitched shriek.

“It’s snowing! Mom, it never snows in July!”

Donna gave an impish grin. “Too true.” This was going to be a very entertaining family visit.


This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Sarah Potter.

A Tragic End

Ah, Doreen! Once a glamorous model stepping out in the latest styles, she was now a decaying wreck. Instead of bright lights and swank restaurants, she spent her time in a muddy field, swilling beer and chain-smoking, gazing at the empty sky.

Was she remembering happier days? Did she miss the fragrant swish of a perfumed dress and the posh elegance of an exclusive club? Did her fans and boyfriends ever come to mind, or were these embers of a life enough for her? Frightening to think that this was all that remained. She used to be such a doll!



This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Liz Young.

Introvert's Dilemma

Bob was an introvert, through and through, but he was blessed (or perhaps cursed) with the kind of charisma and good looks that drew all to him. No asymmetrical features or flab marred his Adonis-like body, and although he preferred to be alone, he could smile and charm with the best of them.

Beset at all sides by men and women clamoring for his presence, he fled the city, taking only a plain, bare chair. For days he drove through the countryside. Where could he find the solitude he craved?
















Now if only the damn birds would leave him alone!

This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Ted Strutz.

Parade

It was scandalous. Grandpa was ninety-six years old, blind in one eye, half-deaf, and so fat it was debatable whether he could get his rotund self behind the wheel. But he had insisted until the family gave up.
And who knew? He had restored the jalopy in his youth and knew it the way a mother knew her own child. Maybe instinct would see him through.
Then a voice from the back seat.
“How much farther? Hand me another beer. I’m parched!”
Sharon sighed. Grandpa and his car were going to be the most memorable entry in this year’s parade.
This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Al Forbes.

Protege

She hurried down the tunnel-like hallway, oblivious to the clean lines of its modern design. A particular memory nagged.

“Your work has a certain neophyte appeal,” he had told her, “But it’s nothing special.”

He had wanted her to keep studying with him, but she knew better. He just wanted her money and her body. The old misogynist didn’t believe a woman could be a serious artist.

Well, she showed him. A few more steps and she would be in the gallery surrounded by her paintings and the fans who had come from all over the city to meet her.



This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Dale Rogerson.