December 11, 2018 – Prompt – What do you think Santa’s Elves do on there day off? Write a story about an elf that gets into trouble on his day off.

Pinkey was an elf, different in every way from all the other elves. To begin with, Pinkey was aptly named for the fact that his nose would turn a bright neon pink whenever he did something that would put him on Santa’s naughty list if he was an ordinary human. But he wasn’t. He was an elf, not just an ordinary elf. Pinkey was the son of Santa’s brother and an elfin witch. Perhaps that’s why Pinkey was always in trouble and Santa didn’t fire him.

It was days before the Christmas rush, and Pinkey was bored of all the work. So he went to the reindeer stable and “borrowed” Rudolph for a joy ride. Pinkey misjudged the distance when he rode Rudolf too close to the North Pole. Rudolph hit the pole and hurt his nose and wouldn’t be able to lead the reindeer through the dark polar night.

Santa was furious with Pinkey whose nose glowed an exceptionally bright neon pink. Santa thought that if Rudolph couldn’t guide the sleigh perhaps Pinkey’s nose could.

And so it was that Pinkey with his own the pink nose led all the reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh to make the rounds on Christmas eve. However, true to his mischievous nature, Pinkey ate all the cookies and drank all the milk that was left out for Santa.

Linda Scott

 

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December 4, 2018 – Prompt – A man enters his house and notices several things are just slightly out of place.

November 27, 2018 – Why I Write?

November 27th, 2018

Today as I write about Tito a beloved Communist leader after visiting his Parliament in Belgrade last May, I remember the smell of the pink with yellow center rose that was named after him. Learning about his funeral that was attended by many dignitaries on Both sides of the Cold War. It was said no funeral rivaled it for five years by Pope John Paul II, then thirteen years later by Nelson Mandela.

I was sitting writing these facts in my NaNoWriMo novel, as I received a text from a neighbor saying she had just heard our neighbor down the block didn’t make it out of surgery. It was a sad day in our neighborhood, as we’ll miss Jerry’s smiling face. He was a retired Air Force officer. I saw Jerry walk across the street as I was on the way to meet a friend for church. I’d been told he was leaving the next day for Palm Springs as it was a dangerous surgery requiring at least four specialists. He had a hernia of the diaphragm that needed repair. I impulsively jumped out of the car and hugged Jerry so hard it broke my dollar store glasses, I had tucked into my blouse.  Saying I hoped to see him home soon.

When I told my friend of his passing, she said, “I want to go to the movies.”

My thoughts were she needs, “Calgon take you away time,” (an old bubble bath commercial). I prefer to feel the raw emotion, “That’s why I write!”

Carol Bouchard