Don’t Make Me Come Up There – Flash Fiction

Photo by Ryan Hutton on Unsplash

“Don’t make me come up there,” he bellows at the sky. His face is murderous, the scowl etching deep lines into his forehead. The frown isn’t visible on his mouth as his thick beard covers from nose down.

“Darling, who in the world are you yelling at?” comes the soft, and slightly worried question from the woman leaning out of the sliding glass door. The light behind her casts her in an elegant silhouette and the burly man glances back at her, his scowl softening slightly.

“The damn twins are arguing again,” he mutters, jerking a thumb upwards towards the scintillating star-studded black sky framed by tall conifers.

The dainty woman arches a fine brow and glances upward. She doesn’t hear a thing; the forest is so dense and thick she can’t even hear the lake that is just a couple minute’s walk from the glamorous mountain home.

“I don’t hear anything,” she finally says, holding out her palm for him to take. He reaches out and his hand engulfs her, but he allows her to tug him back to the warmly lit interior. He gives one more ferocious glare back at the “silent” sky, then follows her back inside, sliding shut the door and pulling the blinds closed.

“Now where were we before you decided you needed to go out and yell at the sky?” she teases as she hands him back his half-drunk glass of wine and picking hers up as well.  She sinks into the sofa and tugs him towards her.

“When Cass and Pol start arguing, no one can hear a thing,” he mutters, settling down next to her.

She just shakes her head, not having a clue who he is talking about.

But how is she to know she is sitting next to a god?

Begin Again – Just A Ramble About Writing

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

A family member recently was horror struck (my mother’s tone, not necessarily true) by my lack of writing these days. It’s true. I rarely take a moment to write, but I haven’t given it up. In fact, my mind is as active as ever, plotting out bits of stories. From ideas at work to marvelous dreams…. gads those things are active little plots, aren’t they?…… to random bits of poetry, and even dabbling into writing prompts. The writing prompts always give me loads of trouble because the ideas are so good I simply must play with them! Only to have them go spattering of and chasing out the gate. I rather picture chickens scattering out the open door. Pecking at this interesting bit, and that.

Recently, meaning literally just the other day, Valentine’s day to be exact, I was thinking how I should write my cooking novel in chapters or segments of holidays. Because that is a rather irksome thing within the restaurant business. You can’t have a proper holiday because you are working on that day. Personally, other than Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, the rest of the holidays are non issues. I love Valentine’s day for the pink, the red, the hearts. That’s about it. I like thinking in food terms with holidays. But a lot of momentous things have happened to me on holidays. People are stressed. People have bad moods. I got a lot thrown at me on those days. Perfect for an angsty account.

But then, what about just by season of the year? Or months? How does one even plan how to write out their novels? And titles. And groupings? Chapters? I should probably worry about this less and just write!

My journal has gotten more traction with bits and pieces that are fiction related. I was writing out a dream a couple weeks ago and realized that if I tweaked it, it would be a perfect Hallmark story. Never mind that I have other ideas for that as well and enough ideas to keep me well occupied despite my lack of time. What can I say, I have a job. Jobs take up a lot of time when it comes into the writing world. But I’m trying to vent here and there into my journal. I would like to sit down and write at the end of my work shift, but I’m usually too keyed up, the music’s too loud, or someone interrupts me. Or I’m trying to get home to an actual meal.  Excuses, excuses. I know. But they are rather decent ones.

I’d like to come up with more than a few things here and there. I’m not as prolific as last year. Last year was semi ridiculous, but well, such is life.

So there, just rambling about writing. Nothing important.

Kate

It’s A Rabbit Hole of Wonderland Writing Prompts

Rabbit Hole

Now that is a mouthful of a title, but after someone in my writing group said she got writing prompts off of Pinterest, and another in the group telling me the same, I decided to check it out.

Down the rabbit hole was the mental hashtag that came from looking at Pinterest.


Oh my gosh! I just typed in ‘writing prompts’ into the search and hours later I think I had collected several. Way more than I would would ever need. But not enough.  And that was just with a simple search. (by hours later, I mean, I collected them over several hours, not necessarily sitting there for hours. That would have been silly…… plausible, but silly)

So clearly I never knew of this world of really, really cool prompts. I mean, I am forever writing things regularly and I have way too many things started, so why I would ever need a prompt, is beside me.  That being said, I NEED these prompts because somebody needs to write about them. Right? I mean, they are too cool to give up. Someone has to do the dirty work of writing a story on these. And if that dirty work falls to me, well then a writer’s just got to do what a writer’s got to do…..

Currently I have various things floating around in my head, and I have been writing at all kinds of things that I haven’t shared here, probably won’t share here, and even some things I won’t share with anyone.  But sometimes it’s fun to break out a mode of writing and do something totally different, and that’s where these prompts are fun. So you only write a short story to nothing. So it is something you dabble in just for fun. Such is life. Why do we color in coloring books? It doesn’t get us anywhere. It doesn’t do anything but relax us. For me, silly nothing stories relax me. Heck, running a pen full of in over the pristine page of a new piece of paper is relaxing. I want to mark it up!

The woman in the writing group who said she used Pinterest, well this last week she wrote something totally amazing, using one prompt from there, and a couple prompts I bring to the group every week. I have my ‘grab bag’ of prompts I’ve made. Words, feelings, colors, dates, numbers.  Things that could get the ideas flowing. Not so much an actual  ‘A boy walks into a bookstore, sees a girl he likes, sidles up to her and says, ‘Quick, they’re coming to get us. We gotta run.” Now how would you finish this idea?’ That is a Pinterest prompt. (one I made up, so feel free to use it anyone. I don’t care because I personally think this is a crappy idea, but hey, whatever floats your boat.) No my prompts are much more ordinary. I’ve gotten some amazing stuff from them, and so have several of the other writers from the group, but on the whole, rather boring compared to what I have just seen.

Point being, after that longish ramble there, but the woman, gosh let’s call her Sandra Dee, well I’m not sure her story is ever part of her books or anything, so I’d call it relaxing writing. Candy writing. Fluff.  But so much fun.  Some of my fluff writing has gone on to actually be something.

So prompts. I find them terribly helpful and fun and a way to break out of your mind. The backlog of stuff crowding you up and making it so you might not be able to write. People talk about writer’s block all the time.  It’s writer’s block from what you are currently writing, not necessarily writer’s block. I have writer’s block all the time, but it’s only on something I ‘Need’ to be writing. Not so much as writing goes. I can plop down anywhere and start writing just about anything. So Prompts are kind of that slap in the face inspiration, oh, well let’s write about this. And sometimes they can take you places you would never imagine.

Three months ago I pulled ‘pink flamingo’, ‘traveling trailer’, and the word Crowder from an author of a book.  I now have 8 short stories about a fictional town in Texas called Crowder.  It has serious potential to become a book of stories from this town. All humorous in some way or another.  All because I pulled three word prompts. I mean, think what you could get if you used an actual plot prompt?  Who knows. You might write the next Hunger Games or something.

So curious. How do you feel about prompts? Do you use them or mock them? What are some great places you get prompts from?  I just found this great WordPress blog for them; Promptuarium.  Check it out. A lot of them have been reposted on Pinterest, but hey, you might get some great ideas.
Enjoy the prompts I’m posting here. If you get something great and want to share on your blog, link back to me so I can read it.  And also, check out the prompts on my Pinterest board. Maybe they will inspire you to create great things.

Kate

One Word Prompts: Secret – Writing 101

5186_16e7I have secrets. I live with secrets. I’m filled with secrets. I love to keep secrets. I hate to keep secrets. Secrets are part of being a woman still living at home. Secrets are what make a writer considering we don’t have time, nor the inclination to discuss all of what is going on in our heads.

I exist sometimes on secrets. Things I have done that no one knows. Secrets I have shared with one person. Secrets of my own thoughts. I can’t share everything about me, nor do I want to, but when I have to, it’s very hard to keep a secret. Especially at Christmas or Birthdays. Then I feel like I need to explode.

In today’s prompt about a one word inspiration, there was a list of words to choose from, ‘Secret’ being the one I picked.   Then there was the suggestion :

If you like these one-word prompts, consider a Prompt Box: an offline well of inspiration that you can draw from on a rainy day. Andrea Badgley keeps prompts on slips of paper in a Chinese tea tin; I use an old jewelry box I bought from a market in Italy. In whatever vessel you choose, add slips of paper with single words, as we’ve practiced here. Short phrases work well, too.

I want to have jars of prompts. And jars of secrets. Jars of places I want to go. Jars of quotes  important to me. Jars of things I want to do with a man…. That’s where the secrets come in. A wish jar. Jars of wishes, hopes and dreams. Jars of secrets.

ce0623ea7abe8a8aebe6a5ba4384d8a0_2_largeIt sounds exotic and wonderful. A little bit sexy, a little bit naughty, and a whole lot of magical. Can you imagine if you, my reader could reach your hand into any one of these jars and pull out a slip and read what I had written? There would be all kinds of things you could find out. Thank goodness for my secrets.

My journal is filled with secrets. Things I would never tell anyone. My journal is dangerous and I would hate for it to get out. But at the same time, sometimes I wish I could share my secrets with someone. Ah, someday.

Secrets are a thing I like so much that I have several songs with the word in the title.  My favorite would be One Republic’s ‘Secrets’, and The Piano Guys cover of the same song.  Second favorite is Maroon 5’s ‘Secret.  That one. Whew… steamy.  But there are several others that have just hit me over the years.

One day I think I’ll have a row of apothecary jars filled with all my secrets. They will be lined up on a mirrored shelf, behind locked glass doors.  One can look and get a glimpse of the secret, but not the whole thing…..

A List Of Poems I Like – Writing 101 Day 2

Okay, so day two for the Writing 101 was ‘Make  a List’.  Well, let’s not waste time just writing a list, so here is a list poem, of sorts. Or my reasons for writing them.

 

Sonnet: why did I ever think I could write you?
Ode: Oh ode, must you be sad? No, but Keats did you best.
Haiku: So brief, you are full of life. Portable and almost cute.
Ballad: I can sing you when an artist makes you great.
Prose: Elegant, me, open and true. You are the best
Sonnet: Beautiful, you are so hard to achieve.
Ode: I could write you to everything and nothing.
Haiku: Your forms are small, execution is great.
Ballad: I can never write you properly, but you are epic.
Prose: My true self is in your form, but I forget you exist.
Poetry: You are who I am, but you are so hard to write sometimes…

 

I kind of like that.

Kate

Three Wishes – Daily Prompt: Lucky Star

tumblr_m5y9k7oDPX1r3a6jho1_500“If you had three wishes, what would they be for?” he asked as he stroked his fingers up her bare arm.  They were lying out beneath the stars, waiting for the meteor shower she had promised him. Lying on the blankets in the bed of his truck, snuggled together after amusing themselves with taste, touch and passion of skin.  Keeping the chill off their bodies by becoming one.  Bodies that were now slightly chilled from sweat and mountain air.

He pulled the blanket up over her back and pulled her closer.  “Three wishes,” he breathed in her ear, “what would they be?”

She shivered as his breath washed over her and tightened her hand around his waist.

“Mmm.  Well, my first one would be for you to take me again,” she giggled.

“Be serious,” he admonished and tapped her arm in a mock slap.

“I am being serious,” she said provocatively.  “I could use you again.”

“Okay, I’ll file that away for later. But really, what would you wish for?” He said seriously.

She thought for a bit, staring up at the velvety midnight blue sky.  At the diamonds twinkling and she thought hard.

“I’d like to never have to clean the house again,” she finally said.

“We could hire a maid.”

She laughed.  “Don’t be silly. I really don’t mind it that much, but it would be a nice thing.”

“Okay, number two.”

“I’d like to go to Paris.”

“Is that it?” He asked in surprise. He thought she might wish for something outlandish, but Paris was reasonable. Something he could save up and give her in the future, possibly the near future if he was willing to forgo getting a new truck.

“Okay, and the last?” he urged.

“That was the last one.  Sex, maid, and Paris.  Yeah, that’ll do.” She sucked in a breath as he skated his fingers up her ribs that then sent her into peals of laughter when he tickled.

“Confound it woman, you are incorrigible.”

“Stop. Stop!” She laughed and punched him in the arm. He stopped and pulled her close again and she let out a sigh.  “Okay, your turn. What would you want if you had three wishes.”

“Well, while sex might be nice, since I know I can get that, I think I’ll try for something a little more crazy.”  It was his turn to laugh when she smacked him.

“So, first off, not having to work another day in my life, but having plenty of money to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy. Every day,” she murmured.

“I know, but it would be nice if I didn’t have to spend all the time working and could just be with you. Two, I’d like to go to one of the Superbowls.” She rolled her eyes at this, but he ignored her.

“And three?” she prompted. He was much faster at this than her answers, spitting them out like he had thought about them a lot.

“Three.  Three is more tricky.  I’d wish I could own this lake and the mountains surrounding it. It’s been our spot forever, but I’d like to build a cabin or house here so that we could sit out and make love under the stars whenever we wanted without having to drive an hour to get here.”

Via http://ladylandscape.tumblr.com/ Wish all you can ! by Joe Dsilva on Flickr.

She was silent, slightly surprised.  She hadn’t known he loved this place as much as he did, considering it was she who had first brought him to this spot years ago right after they’d met.  She’d never told him why this place was so special, nor that technically the land was hers, or would be eventually.  It hadn’t really mattered because they came here as often as they could in the summer.

“What would you say if I told you that at some point I could grant you the last wish?” she asked, leveling herself up to look down at his face, shadowed in the starlight.

“I’d say you were crazy and how much money did you plan to throw at Uncle Sam?”

“The government doesn’t own this land. My uncle owns it.”

“You don’t say? No wonder we always come here. Why didn’t you tell me it was in the family?”

“Never saw the need to since we came here all the time.  But not only is it in the family, but since I am the only relative of Uncle James, other than Dad, he uh, has me as the heir.  When he dies, I get this land.”

He stared up at her. Emotions flashed across his face; hope, longing, adoration. A mixture of thoughts and dreams bundled up in the surprise.  Clearly she was more able to give him something that meant a lot to the both of them.

“Well, darling,” he said huskily, then flipped her onto her back. “While I might not be able to grant you every wish of yours, and you have certainly thrown a shock to me with your little wish granting, the least I can do is give you your number one wish.”

He kissed her. Then again. Then some more, and as they began to move, the heavens rained down stars. Stars that flashed and granted wishes to all those who had wished.

 

 

 

Wow. How this all came out like this, I’ll never know.  Sorry it’s a little long. I just started writing and could not stop.  I am like that sometimes.  I was picturing the Perseids meteor shower in August of every year.  One of my favorite meteor showers. And I imagine making love under the stars would be, well.  Eh em, moving on.  Lets just say that it sounds delightful.  This was probably not the prompt Daily Prompt: Lucky Star meant, but this is what you get.  I love it and the image is so vivid in my mind.

Enjoy

Signing off

~Kate

Throwing Three Prompts Into My Life

Okay WordPressers, I am going to throw three The Daily Post prompts into one post.  Why, you ask?  Well, honestly it’s because they all seem to fit together, at least for my state of mind.  That might mean I’m a little off my rocker, but I think I am allowed that. I am

  1. a female. I can do whatever I want, right? (not really, but it’s my prerogative) AND
  2. I met a guy.  That pretty much throws common sense out of the window at any given point. So please bear with me.

First prompt was No Fair.

I don’t think it’s very fair to meet an incredible guy, only to have said guy tell you that you will make some guy very happy someday.  Especially when you have just clicked with ‘this’ guy and by clicked, I mean really clicked.  Then to have the guy leave.

I am a very single girl woman living where there supply of decent, eligible, marriageable men is severely limited. I mean, severely.  I can probably count on one hand the men I know that are somewhat in this category.  The rest of the men my age are either married themselves or are in the sketchy category.  So, when a charming man who is single, has a good job (a really good job) is a marvelous flirt and a brilliant kisser, comes into your life, you kind of want to hold onto said guy.  It’s not fair to have him up and leave.

Okay, yes, he is hiking the PCT.  He does only have two weeks of vacation left before he has to get back to work at a hospital in Portland, Oregon (can I hear a luxurious sigh, because that’s what I did). He does have family to visit. The weather is not holding out.  But come on.  Pretty girl. Interested pretty girl.  Couldn’t you stay? Like one day longer?  Especially when you have had one incredible evening?  Fair. Ha!

Second prompt. Standstill (and this is not in the exact order that they have been in because I have to fit the non sequitur into the last paragraph)

Oh if I could bring time to a standstill.  I know the ‘rules were for today, but the heck with today. I wish I could make that evening stand still for hours longer.  Five hours was not enough time.  I could just replay it over and over for much longer.

I sometimes wish I could have that standstill moment when important things happen.  So that you can really savor the time and the circumstances.  I would make everything last just a little bit longer.  Heck, if I couldn’t have that time stop, at least slow down.  Time flies too fast for me and nothing ever lasts as long as I want.  An amazing evening with an amazing guy not withstanding.

Last prompt. Non Sequitur.

He tried to hit me with a forklift!   Not really, but I feel like I’ve been at least run over and in the process he took half my heart.  (yes, I realize this prompt does not even closely resemble not being related because I made it relate, but honestly, who talks like that? What I mean is, no one ever says he tried to hit me with a forklift, when they are talking about being struck by something)  So now I’m hoping to either have kept a part of his heart, or at least if not that, he will give back mine at some point.  Right now, he gladly has my heart, not that he really knows, and hopefully while he’s still hiking up to Ashland, OR, it’s keeping him warm at night. (we are getting snow down to the 5K ft. line.  brr.)

And I’m breaking the above prompt because here’s one more paragraph.  Connections you make with people are funny sometimes.  You never know when you are going to just click with someone, and sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.  And you don’t know if you are both clicking or if it’s just one of you.  I like to think that we both clicked, but only time will tell.  Do you all care what way it goes?  Probably not, but that’s okay because this is my minor decompressing and also a chance to try relating three prompts.  I thought it kind of fun.

Signing off

~Kate