Face Time

He thought he’d told the stories about when his father took him and his siblings on camping trips well but when he looked expectantly in the rearview all he saw was his children’s bent heads, each intent on a device.

They had badgered and begged for those devices and as a divorced father who wanted to maintain contact with his children he of course acquiesced and bought them, but contact remained old-fashioned negotiation via his ex’s landline, his old number, and bordered on bribery and coercion; this ended up a costly trip, but he was confident the payoffs would be immeasurable, once the kids got into it.

“Hey, when we get to the campground I have a present for you.” That got their attention.

When they got to the campground he collected all their phones and ipads and locked them in the trunk, then welcomed them to the present.

“Ah, Dad, get real.”

 

It’s that time again! This week Denise of GirlieOntheEdge gives us the word “pad” to work into a Six Sentence Story. Click on over to read more and to leave your own creation in six sentences. Just six.  

 

Superior

On this day Lady Lake is calm, her waves a soothing song, a gentle caress. On this day raging storms and surging ice are as distant as the hazy horizon. On the sun warmed rocks that pave the beach, I pick seven from among the millions and millions of smooth stones to build a small cairn. The stones, the seven and the millions, indulge me, and with them I laugh at myself, at this ridiculously human endeavor. I listen for the ancient stories of these water-worn stones. My labors won’t last but this cairn might stand for a day.

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It’s a mashup! Denise at Six Sentence Stories has presented “wave” and Charli at Carrot Ranch has provided “for a day”. Charli also gave me the day of the cairn on the shores of her lake. 

Driving Home

The billboards were his wife’s idea. So many truckers and tourists saw those signs. How many knew anything about the pictured boy?

He knew. He was one of the commuters that drove by them everyday. But if after work he took the back roads to the tavern he could miss one of the signs completely. And if he stayed late he’d not notice the others.

But always was that smaller sign. “Let’s remember Adam.” Right there at the end of the driveway. Right there.

How he wished that even for one day he could forget. He ordered another drink.

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Here is Charli’s Carrot Ranch prompt this week: July 25, 2019: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes the phrase “for one day.” The words single out a special occurrence. What is the emotion and vibe, where does it take place and why? Go where the prompt leads!

This story came while on a road trip and seeing billboards  imploring drivers to remember the pictured young boy and to stop for school buses. Then I noticed a smaller sign in someone’s yard. 

Escape

Once upon a time there was a princess who enjoyed long walks beyond the castle walls for the small escapes these forays provided, but because this increasingly concerned her father, the king, who thought it high time she settle down, she knew she needed to make each walk count as if it were her last.

One day the princess stole out and finally sat down on a mossy log beside a lily pad covered bog, just enjoying the bird sounds in the filtered sunlight and the deep bass croaking from the bog, when she became aware of an approaching frog; he spoke first, telling her all about a curse, and how all she had to do was kiss him and then he would be released and she would have a handsome prince with whom to live happily ever after in his castle.

The princess bent down to pick up the frog, then hurled him into the middle of the bog before walking quickly along until she again slowed to enjoy the everyday beauty of the wooded bog.

When the princess noticed another frog that hadn’t yet noticed her, she spoke first, asked the frog if he was cursed, and he answered that he was not, that is he certainly didn’t feel cursed, in fact quite the opposite, he felt blessed everyday that he got to enjoy where he was.

He did tell her that it was good she asked if he was that kind of frog because there was a spell on him that meant that if any human kissed him she would turn into a frog. The frog was appreciative that she was respectful enough to ask his permission before she kissed him, didn’t mind that she took advantage of his spell to escape into another life.

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The word from Denise is “Escape”. Write a Six Sentence Story and link it at her site on Thursday. Check out girlieontheedge to read and write.

WWP #113 Enthralled

Breezes dance, sparkling shimmering footsteps visible as orchestras of light play across the lake’s surface. Ripples scurry this way and that, whispering, enthralled with the prospect of the coming storm. Heavy clouds trudge clumsily from the west, finally stumbling over the mountain. Birds rush to their perches in the trees. Thunder drums. It’s time!

 

Microfiction Flash History

It’s not quite business as usual at Carrot Ranch this week. Yes, there’s a prompt to write 99 words, no more, no less. Yes, we are to go where the prompt leads. The change with the July 4, 2019, prompt? The challenge is to “write a story using your choice of microhistory from Keweenaw National Historic Park. Be historical, funny, or flagrantly fictional. Choose a character, time, place, or event. Be as creative as you want in telling the story (for those doing serials, how can you meld this into your own storyline?). Go where the prompt leads!”

 I have written two flash fiction pieces based on the micro histories of Ellen Dickens and Anselm Studer. These were real people with their own stories. What I have presented is fiction, unresearched and unauthenticated, just imagined stories inspired by the brief biographical information provided by the Keweenaw National Historic Park.

 

Ellen Dickens

Mama was Lewis’ wet nurse. We called him Lil’ Dickens, me and Mama, and his granddad did too, ‘cause he was always gettin’ into mischief.

His granddad, Old Mr. Dickens, he trusted me, put me in charge of keepin’ Lil’ Dickens out of trouble. Showed us both where to fish. It wasn’t so bad then.

Lil’ Dicken’s own daddy, couldn’t no one stay out of trouble with him. No one.

After Old Mr. Dickens passed I ran. Caught up with Lil’ Dickens, who’d run first. Lewis took me in like his sister. His own children call me Auntie Ellen.

***

Anselm Studer

When I was in New York I felt like I was still aboard ship on the churning sea. The buildings there towered tall but they were hollow rustling hives.

I came to the Keweenaw. Here there are no towering buildings. There are no great mountains like my homeland, but this place- these people possess the indomitable strength of the Alps. The miners call it sisu. I think of this Finnish word that defines my America as I build foundations for the new buildings.

This is something I know: the tallest mountains, the strongest communities, are built on solid foundations.

***

Woundings

At least this institution serves quickly, she mused, facing her husband across their fast food trays.

It had been a trying morning of endless appointments and disappointments, with the most hopeful statement coming from a nurse who told her ‘hang tough, it’s a process’.

“Flag’s at half-mast,” he said, “Someone didn’t make it back.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, prompting him to take her hand and reassure her, “Hey, it’s okay, look, I’m right here.”

Yes, he was right here, but he hadn’t made it back. The absence of visible injuries only made dealing with the VA a tougher battle.

***

 

I’m mashing today. Thank you to Rochelle of Friday Fictioneers for the photo prompt, and J. Hardy Carroll for the photo. I also managed to use the prompt word ‘process’ from GirlieOntheEdge’s Six Sentence Story prompt. So there, 100 words, six sentences. Check out both sites to read and write.