Tag Archives: short story

Writing Challenge with Mom – Part 3

11 May

Happy Mother’s Day!!!  Love you Mom!

A while ago Mom and I started a writing challenge for fun.  The idea is one person writes for a bit and then passes it off to the other person who continues the story.  In this way we are passing our story back and forth.

Part1      Part2

writing challenge with mom

Short synopsis of the happenings so far:

Walter – A mad scientist type of fellow who wants to make minions.

Lucy – A private detective who used to date Walter 6 years ago.

Cowboy – A Mysterious fellow who met Lucy in a bar.  He said Walter told him where to find her and then the world starts spinning.

Thus our story continues…  (Part below written by Mom.)

He felt warm, smelling like long grasses in a meadow somewhere in spring, not Autumn like it was now.

His hair was that shade of wheat blonde/brown, and the spin of the room lifted it up and out as if there were wind in here. Her bottle shifted on the table and she grabbed it to stop it from flying off like at the other tables with things on them. She heard clunks and bangs where things fell around the room, covering her head as a dust devil of napkins whirled into her. She felt strong arms around her and felt the cowboy’s duster around her, protecting her from flying things.

He muttered, “I hate it when this happens…..”

Lucy smelled warm man. “Oh gods, not a dream?” she muttered into the shirt front.

“No, Ma’am. Not a dream.” He opened his coat then, letting her loose.

She plunked back on the wooden chair, still holding her beer. She set it on the table before she realized they were not in the bar anymore.

The walls were white, shelves and cabinets scattered around the edges, scientific instruments and experiments in random places. Books and papers were in the usual disorder that she remembered Walter always in.

The cowboy took his hat and duster off and put them in a closet near the door. The room was large enough to hold the bar table and chair in the center, with many tables and lab furniture and equipment.


“I don’t exactly know. I am learning to use it. I brought you here with it, but,” he gestured to the table, “I haven’t fine tuned it.”

Lucy stared. “Where are we?”

“Belowelcen. In the town of Bent.” The cowboy walked to the door. “The bathroom is through there.” He pointed to a door in the side wall. “Walter will be in as soon as I tell him you are here.”

Lucy watched him walk out. Where was Belowelcen? Bent? Walter? She was not sure yet about things. A dream? Then why did the cowboy smell so… manly?

Lucy sipped the beer. Tasted the same flatness from the bar. She stood.

“Why not the bathroom while I’m here?” When she walked over to the door, nothing seemed out of the ordinary – no room spinning, nothing.

The bathroom was roomy, pale pink, and touches of lace and pink roses on the towels, shower curtain, and the matching toilet cozy, seat cover and rugs. It was the bathroom of her dreams. She and Walter used to talk about the house they would buy. Well, she talked and he listened. The tub was a garden tub with jacuzzi, with a large 2 person shower behind a decorative wall next to it. The toilet and sink were lovely pieces. 1930 was surely a great year for modern conveniences.

Lucy opened the medicine cabinet, nothing other than headache powder and tooth powder and shampoo. Her instincts kicked in, looking for anything that might tell her what in the hell was going on. And why did it smell like grassy fields with flowers in here?

The curtains where the window should have been covered a window frame and sill, mounted on the wall. No window.

Finishing her business, Lucy unlocked the door and almost ran Walter over. He had his hand raised like he was going to knock. He looked confused, like he was surprised to see her. That was Walter all right.

(Part below written by little old me.)

Lucy squared off to face her ex. Hands on hips and feet spread apart. She wasn’t going to be taking any of his lunacies. “Walter. You had better start talking real fast and explain to me why I am here.”

He lowered his hand and twiddled his thumbs. “I… er….well… ummmm… you see…. eh… You are a little earlier than I was expecting. Things started happening faster than I imagined and I couldn’t quite keep them under control so I…”

“Sent a cowboy to abduct me?” She cut him off.

His big blue, puppy dog eyes looked into hers. “I just want you to know I only have your best interests at heart and that I really did save you from something that hasn’t happened yet.”

“Walter. Send me back. Now.”

The cowboy appeared behind Walter, a half head taller than the scientist. His presence somehow calming like quiet walks through spring fields or sunset beaches. “Come into the sitting room. I’ve set tea out for all of us and it is a particularly good local blend.”

Walter nodded and led the way, happy to put off the fight for as long as possible. Cowboy lightly touched Lucy’s shoulder as if to guide her. Even though they followed Walter, she didn’t mind the reassuring touch. Anything to keep her grounded and away from murdering the man who always pushed her to her limits.

The sitting room was decorated straight from the Sears and Roebuck catalog 1930’s edition. Lucy knew this because her packrat mother inherited a stack of the catalogues somewhere in her travels. As a curious child Lucy often flipped through the yellowed pages as if she could transport herself back into a more romantic and simple time.

The only thing slightly out of place in her dream room was the smoking box of detached limbs tucked neatly into the far corner. It sat beneath an ornately framed portrait of a woman in opera gloves and chandelier earrings.

The Marquis of the Blue Dolls

2 May

A short piece for: 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week #131

The Marquis of the Blue Dolls

He once went by the title of Marquis, but that was a lifetime ago. Back before his lands were infested with shadows and hollow places.

It started when the Night Demons visited, promising compromise, trade, and safe travel. They crept in like a sickness. Slow and subtle they worked their malicious schemes until they had wormed their way into the very fiber of the land and people.

Now they call him Sorcerer of the Night Puppets. Although he never did have any magic or any control over what happened. He is as much at the Night Demon’s mercy as the rest of his doomed kingdom.

Dealing with Death and Drama

27 Dec

There are some days when the world is scary and it hurts and everything is going wrong.  I stand in the eye of the storm alone and unmoving like a weeping angel frozen atop her tombstone.  Hurricane winds whip around me carrying projectiles that are sharp, barbed, and deadly.  Here in the eye I am safe, though scared.

Everything I can’t control is in a whirl, beating each other, smashing one another into pieces and howling in pain.  I watch, too afraid to wade into the winds, sure in the fact that I can’t stop it and will only add to the chaos.  One more tumbling body reaching for stability, warmth, and protection.  Grasping at dreams instead of reality as numb fingers try to hold onto something, anything.

A bony grip locks two bodies together as they try to weather the storm together.  The storm laughs, throws them high into the air, giving them flight for the briefest of moments before abandoning them with a grin.  They hold each other so tight it is suffocating as the screams are ripped from their chests by the wind, like ghosts escaping the dead.  Together they bring each other down, falling, falling, failing.

I stand alone as the winds die down, a coward.  Safe and untouched beyond the small scratches that redden my skin and the salt tears that burn my wounds.  As far as I can see there is carnage.  My world is collapsing and there are dead littered among the ruins.  I’m afraid to look because I don’t know if you made it through and I don’t know what I’ll do if you are dead too.

Save me Superman!

28 Nov

I’ll pass on Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, Strong, and Dangerous.  (Who always manages to swoop in just in time to save the girl.)  Thank you Prince Charming, please take your outdated sensibilities elsewhere.  Sleeping Beauty is not here waiting to be rescued, go chase her out the window she just jumped out of and help her fight the dragon.

Sometimes I want to be rescued, but more often than not I will be the one doing the rescuing.  I’m my own hero.  Buzz off and find your own story wooden romantic interest and stay out of mine!

disney gave me unrealistic expectations about love

Part 13 – Onging short story – “Shiver”

5 Oct

The Challenge: 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week60 – Write 106 words containing the phrase “… suddenly it was in my hand ….”

This is part 13 in an ongoing story.  A new part is added weekly with each challenge.  Previous chapters can be found here in the Ongoing Story section.


Suddenly it was in her hands.  A black ball of fur, shivering with cold.  The wind blew chilly kisses to Lydia and the cat.  It ruffled the pink bathrobe borrowed from Mum.

“Really?  Really?!  I eat an apple and end up on a mountain?”

“Could be worse.  You humans like apples.  That was a horrid experience.”  Said the cat.

“This is too much.  You just want me to keep wandering around, following crazy old women and eating fruit to stay alive?  I don’t even know what we are running from.  Would you care to explain?”

The cat blinked.  “Oh.  I forgot you are new to this.”

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