#55WordChallenge : The Fence – Part 16

An old dog came through the door and stretched out on the floor beside the old woman, resting his chin between his paws, and I heard a voice, though no one spoke, “Your grandson, is here, Cynthia.”

The dog pointed its eyes at me, and the voice from nowhere spoke again, “Alice isn’t here yet.”

55 words

This is part 16 of the serial story I’m working on for Lisa McCourt Hollar‘s #55WordChallenge flash fiction challenge. Please, go read all the other entries in the challenge this week. It’s flat amazing what gifted writers can say in just 55 words.


#VisDare 5 – Obscure

She walked out of the darkness on my first night above ground, and stood next to me. She wore only a sheer cloth which covered her from head to toe. She had pale blue eyes, hair black as night, full lips, and curves I’d only dreamed about. She was stunning.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She held a finger up to her lips, indicating I should be quiet, so I said no more. She took my hand, I let her lead me into the darkness. As we walked I heard a soft, musical voice that gradually grew stronger, clearer. I listened to the voice, and thought how beautiful the it was.

She stopped walking, faced me and placed my hand on her shoulder. I heard one word, though she never spoke, “Leighla.”

I thought my name, “Taran.” Leighla smiled and led me further through the darkness of the night.

150 Words

This piece is the second in a continuing story I’m working through for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare. Please read the other entries in this week’s Visual Dare challenge. I like all of them.

#12DaysBop : Day 5 – Camellia Blooms

It’s day 5 of Stacy Hoyt’s 12 Days Of Christmas Blog Hop. Today, the topic is flowers. I love flowers. And this time, I went with something true, for someone I remember…

IMG_2655They say, as long as you remember someone, they are still alive. At least in some way. I like that thought very much. Because it means you’re still alive. Because, I remember you. We went to high school together. You were one of my friends. I had so few friends back then.

I remember your smile. The way it made your eyes crinkle. I used to look in those eyes of yours. They weren’t the prettiest I’d ever seen. But they were pretty. Yes, you weren’t a hot chick. It was the 70s. The days of Charlie’s Angles. Dukes of Hazard. You certainly didn’t compare to Jill Munroe, or Daisy Duke. But then, who did? You looked pretty to me.

I’m sorry for all the 33 years we missed between then, and when we met again. It was sad to learn you were so very ill. I remember calling you. Some people said I was doing that ’cause I was being nice to you. They said I was doing that ‘cause it was the right thing to do. But you knew. You knew I was calling you because I wanted to. I wanted to talk with you. Not that I ever said much. But I did love to listen to your voice.

I’d hoped to visit you someday. Meet your family. But that never happened.

You loved the pictures of flowers I shared with you. Especially the Camellias. I find sometimes, walking here, through the Camellia trees filled with blooms. I remember you. Your smile. Your laughter. The sound of your voice.

I’m glad I do. And maybe someday. When when it’s my turn to move on. I’ll get the chance to visit you again.

Please go enjoy the rest of the stories in the blog hop. There are some really gifted writers out there. It’s well worth reading their work. You can find the other entries here:

The 12 Days Of Christmas Blog Hop, Day 5 – The Gift Of Flowers