Prompt July 31, 2013–the phone is ringing

The phone is ringing,” Margaret called.

It was another sleepy, dusty Delta day. Billie Jean had just set the plates for lunch and was turning the okra over in the skillet.

“I can’t get it,” she said. “I’m cooking.”

“Well shoot fire, it could be important.”

“Then get it.”

“Can’t. I’m changing the baby.”

Billie Jean swore and turned the burner off. She made it to the phone in time to hear a voice say softly, “Billie . . . ,” and he was gone. She stood there—the phone a few inches from her head—trying to tell her self it wasn’t Johnny.

Her brother was dead.

Lynne Webster

 

I was on a boating vacation on the Mississippi River going down stream, having pulled the boat all the way from Coeur d’Alene ID to the #1 lock and dam on the big river. I had plans to go all the way to the Gulf of Mexico, then cruise the intercoastal waterway east and finally reach my friend’s dock in Palmetto FL. Somewhere above St. Louis MO my wife called up to the bridge that the phone was ringing…bad news. Somehow the Coast Guard had gotten my cell number and was informing me they had been contacted by the Idaho State Patrol that one of my trucks had been hijacked. The driver was okay and had been tied up and left behind a truckstop in Butte MT. The truck and its load of Jack Daniels had disappeared without a trace.

Jerry Stapleton

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July 23, 2013 Prompt – a bottle of

She stared at it, mesmerized by the lovely green bottle so like Christmas with its lovely red emblem in the center. It called to her from across the room.

Could she resist? Tough when she could imagine the scent of pine needles drifting up from a frosty glass.

“Not tonight,” she mumbled to no one. She had promised herself not tonight she’d not be tempted by the tang of that remembrance. Still her mouth watered with the memory.

However, the last time she’d imbibed she woke up the next morning not knowing where she was or how she got there. You put yourself at great risk when you drank too much in the big city. Every day it seemed she read about some woman’s body being found in an alley or under an overpass their bodies mutilated nothing but a vacant stare in their eyes.

She glared at the bottle again. What was it about a bottle of Tanqueray that so enticed her. Many people couldn’t abide the taste of gin, even good gin with lots of lime. It had to have lots of lime.

Christine Howard

July 16 2013–Response to Picture Prompt

kids in snow

Picture Prompt from My Story section of Writer’s Digest

This is very odd, thought Jeremy. They all stood peering into the misty depths of the forest. He didn’t see Santa. And Sis promised! JoAnne Mowczko

****

It was going to be a long walk back to Grandma’s. We should have listened when she warned us about the snow, but we didn’t. Bev Ribaudo

****

What was in the snowy mist filled space, Sandra thought as she tightened the grip on Billy and Audrey’s hands, and continued the haunting trek. Christine Howard

****

Did you hear that?” Joey pointed.

“We’re lost!” cried Peter.

I lied. “No, we’re not.”

As I looked behind us, you waved.  Suzie Hagen

****

walking in the woods –

the monotonous squeak of their

rubber boots

Carmel Westerman

****

“I remember 70 years ago, coming home in a snowstorm, how my big brother kept telling us we weren’t lost.” Jerry Stapleton

****

“Only a little further and we’ll be at grandma’s.”

“I’m so tired, I can’t walk another step.”

“You must, there’s a wolf following.”

Ellynore Smith

It Never Worked Before

Response to Prompt – It Never Worked Before

After putting up with a non life threatening physical condition and ongoing surgeries that I have endured over the years for correction—well, once again here I am faced with more of the same—more uncomfortable examinations and three different doctors, a GP and two specialists. The time has come once again and maybe–just maybe-this will be the last fix. I am ready for this as I go for the last consult before the surgery. After waiting one hour, I’m finally facing the doctor, eye to eye. I am ready for whatever he has to say.

“Yes you do need this surgery, and I would be happy to help you, but, you have to help me do my job.”

‘What the hell is he on about? I don’t like that but.’ I thought.

“I won’t do it until you lose fifty pounds. Come back and see me in three months and prove to me that you are half way there. See a dietician, join a gym, do something!”

He shook my hand and smiled. I was close to tears. Every year at my physical, I am told to loose weight. It never worked before. Fifty f…ing pounds!

My companion was waiting for me in the car and before I could shut the door behind me, she eagerly announced,

“I have decided on a restaurant for lunch that has a great reputation for the biggest buffet in all of Calgary. You can tell me all about your appointment while we eat.”

Kirsten Marie Wohlgemuth

July 2, 2013 Prompt “Heads we get married; tails we break up.”

"Heads we get married; tails we break up."

Isn’t that what you said, rat face? Who does that kind of thing? Oh, sure it seemed cute then. You didn’t even let me call it. Now look where we are: standing in front of the congregation, me holding the flowers, you holding the ring, looking all pasty white faced, pink nosed, and terrified, like someone was holding a shotgun to your head (speaking of heads).

"Heads we get married; tails we break up."

Well, I’ve been ‘headed’ toward this altar all 19 years. It’s been waiting, waiting with a trap door and a chute, and just now I realized it.

There’ll be children and cheating, and cooking and cleaning. And fifty years on, with the toss of a coin, it’ll all be gone.

Um, what did you say?

Yes. I do.

 

Lynne Webster