Some Enchanted Evening – Friday Fictioneers

‘Tis Wednesday-Friday already!  You got it, it’s Friday Fictioneers time.  Despite the fact that our fearless leader Rochelle is out and about, gallivanting around the Western States on a road trip, still she makes sure we have our prompt.   This week, the photo she chose is one from Douglas M. MacIlroy  – thanks for letting us use your photo, Doug!

Should you wish to participate in this most addictive pursuit of creating a flash fiction in 100 words or less (excluding the title), then please do so.  Click on the blue frog and add your link.

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Some Enchanted Evening

It was going to be a beautiful evening, though mostly starless, thanks to the clouds.  Still, it was nice and warm and they would be able to sit by the fire for that extra cozy feel.

“Don’t forget to bring the Tiki torch, Babe.  It’ll keep the skeeters away.”

“Great idea.  How ’bout some wine, too?”

“Yeah.  And I think there’s still some cheese left from last night.  Might as well bring that too.”

While he retrieved the items, she positioned the chairs and table round the fire.

“So, where do you think we stand as a couple?” she asked.

Idyll – What Pegman Saw

Good evening (or morning, depending on where on the globe you be) my Readers.   Pegman leaders Karen and Josh were busy basking in the sun last week and left us to our own devices for a week but are now back with a new challenge.  Thank you both for your efforts.

This week Pegman takes us to Yellowstone National Park in the US. You’ll find both streetview and photo spheres to inspire you. Choose any place within Yellowstone and write 150 words inspired by it. Once your piece is polished, you can share it with others at the link up below:

Idyll

Giselle felt the warmth of the sun through the roof of the tent.  She smiled dreamily as she reminisced on the previous night’s passions.

“You’re so beautiful when you smile like that, Gi.”

“You know, Dany, you saved me and gave me back my smile.”

“And I’ll make sure you never lose it again.  Wasn’t last night’s concert great?  The drum of the falls, the pop and fizz of the geysers…”

“Oh you!  Everything turns to music with you.”

“True dat!   I am a musician, after all.  Check this out…”  He slid the zipper of the tent.  Tzzzzzzzzip.

They laughed and together opened the tent flap, quickly falling silent as they saw the deer grazing right in front of them.

“Could this trip get any better?” whispered Giselle.

“It sure can.”  He nuzzled her neck, pulling her back inside.  “How about we take up where we left off last night?”

The Hanging – Friday Fictioneers

With joy I write this from my brand new, old computer!  Yes. Many, MANY thanks to my brother-in-law, Chris, for helping me set up Mick’s computer that had been collecting dust on the floor of the office for 1 1/2 years and for saving my old pictures from my now-defunct one.

Back to business.. Thanks to the 45-years-married wonderful couple of Rochelle and Jan for the joint effort this week.  I know, I know… it is Friday Fictioneers… but, I can’t help it if every photo Rochelle choses brings me down memory lane!!  I haven’t even bothered to change the names of the players… 😀

Click on the blue frog if you want to read more stories and hey, why don’t you play? Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to!

jan-wayne-fields

Word count:  100

Genre:  Memoir

The Hanging

Holding his hand over his throat, he repeatedly took quick peeks in the truck mirror, immediately putting his hand back, while opening and closing his mouth, sticking out his tongue, making choking sounds.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tracy asked.

“I’m afraid to look,” said Mick, sheepishly.

“What? Show me!”

He pulled away his hand, revealing a red welt all across his throat.

“Jeez!  What the hell did you do to yourself this time?”

“I took my bike to go to the bathroom and cut across the neighbours’ site as they’re gone now.  The idiot left behind his clothesline!”

 

 

Comes In Waves

I can’t stand my own company in the quiet house so Zeke gets a late dusk walk.  I figure I’ll at least change the air in my lungs for a bit, if not the company.

As I walk away from my house, the sounds get quieter (blasted highway can be particularly loud when the air is as dense as it is tonight) and all I hear are my footsteps, Zeke’s panting (as if it’s 35ºC and not the 19ºC it really is ~ which proves just how humid it is!) and the occasional birdsong (the rain song, Mick used to call it).  I’m not sure I would call it the rain song as it comes in spurts, as if even the birds can’t decide if the predicted thunderstorms are coming or not!  If they do, it will be once I’m snug as a bug in my bed!

I breathe in the mixtures of scents:  the wonderful lilacs, the freshly mown grass and, what’s that?  Oh THAT! That stinky tree with the white flowers (I know not what it is but I used to have one ~ ugh!) that smells like a cross between skunk and bad fish and just plain yuck!  OK, OK, I Googled it:  It’s the Pyrus Calleryana or the Callery Pear tree.  You don’t need to see ’em to smell ’em!  Don’t be fooled by the pretty white flowers – they’re not but a ruse for you to buy them!

 

Anyway, stinky trees aside, when it is quiet like this, my brain goes into full hamster-wheel mode (think the Mel Gibson when he first gets zapped and can hear all the women’s thoughts in the movie “What Women Want”)!

There is no order to my thoughts.  They go from one subject to another and have no rhyme nor reason.

I think of my morning and how, after showing the trailer to yet another potential buyer, I empty a few more items from it and get all emotional once again.  Camping is over so it needs to go. (The proceeds of the sale are going into the “take the boys to an all-inclusive-trip-fund, however.)  There are many memories tied to that white box and I just ache from the loss.  As I’m sitting in my blessedly quiet back-yard (the neighbours are out!), feeling sad, I get a “ping!” from Messenger and there is my sister saying aloha from Hawaii!  Their flight was fabulous, though long, and they were getting ready to leave for their cruise.  So far, so good; the two couples are getting along famously (both are celebrating 25 years of marriage).  This brings me joy.  Because I’m feeling this way, I grab my camera and take pictures of my bleeding hearts, smoke bush and rhubarb.  This brings me more joy.  I don’t usually stay in the sadness for too long…

Then my thoughts go to the house and the immense job I have ahead of me to sort out what to keep, what to sell, what to throw away and when to actually do all this.  I know, I know, start with something, anything and just take it one thing at a time.  I get all emotional, looking at all THIS and think of our plans that are now nought and sadness comes again, followed by anger (how dare he leave me to deal with all this by myself!), followed by overwhelm.  Then I think of the Mary Kay business I signed on for and wonder what the hell was I thinking with all this other stuff going on?  Do I really need the added work? But I get a phone call from a client who found me on my MK website that I had created just two days earlier and make a sale! Maybe not so crazy after all.

As I walk (wishing each step would miraculously take a layer of insulation off my thighs), I think of my future and dating and OhMyGodAmIReadyToShowThisBodyToAnyone? I don’t go into panic mode but there may be a small (OK, bigger than small) level of insecurity. WTF!  I keep reading how “women of my age” are totally at ease with who they are and accept all the “bumps and bruises” that life has given them to reach this point in life and are comfortable in their skin.  This, of course, leads them to a fulfilling sex life where they need not worry about their boobs being too saggy or their cellulite, or the extra love handles because it just means there’s more to love.  When you have been with the same guy for almost twenty years and he’s seen the changes you’ve gone through from your first meeting to your last good-bye, which includes giving him three beautiful children, and whatever else you’ve shared, you know where you stand. You’ve aged matured together.  You’ve earned your said “bumps and bruises” together. Now, the thought of future lovers (see my positive spin on this?), who themselves have certainly had changes happen to their bodies (understand I am not crazy enough to think of hooking up with too-young boys who still smell of pee-pee) are probably quite conscious of the fact that a 50-year-old body is not that of a 20-year-old one!  Obviously I’m talking of the regular folk who are trying to age gracefully; not the scalpel-loving-living-in-denial folk (not that there is anything wrong with that ~ we’re not here to judge!)  They are probably not expecting perfection either…

So I keep walking, thinking, occasionally arguing with myself (pretending to talk to Zeke) and tellng myself to not sweat it, to just be my fabulous me and all will work out in the end.  I am not a “wallower” and will not stop living or looking for rainbows.  I will move forward doing what needs to be done, all the while enjoying the journey, even if a few tears are shed here and there, because I know the sun always comes out after the rain.

(I couldn’t decide which one I liked more, so I’ve included both!)

Last Day of May…Already

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Is it my imagination or did this month just fly by?  Or maybe, as I get older the words of Andy Rooney become more and more true!

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The garden is planted and already needs weeding (!).

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The lilacs have bloomed.  We planted this lilac tree last year and I never expected to get over six blooms!

Lilac

Lilac

The azaleas have come and gone – their presence is so fleeting, isn’t it?

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We had our first camping trip…. in the mud and rain but still managed to have a most excellent time!

The first anniversary of losing Dad…

Happy place

Happy place

And I was even treated to a spa!  What a great month!

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Come tomorrow, we are officially in June! Let us hope it is nothing like last year as it was bloody cold!

Bring it on!