It was a simple note, hastily scrawled, but it made her smile. Leaving a note was a small thing that she appreciated and that he usually didn’t bother with; he’d even signed this one “I love you”.
According to the note he would be back from his errands in an hour. She decided, as a small act of reciprocation, to have his favorite snack ready and waiting for him.
When an hour and a half passed she was mildly annoyed; when two and a half hours passed she had gone from anger to worry; when the phone rang following the distant sirens, she trembled answering it.
She still has the note, reads it often and wonders what the rest of their lives together would have been had it not been for that terrible accident that took him so swiftly and unexpectedly that afternoon.
Take NOTE. It’s another Six Sentence Story prompt from Denise at GirlieOntheEdge. Drop by and leave a Six of your own or read the others.
Please read and write responsibly, six sentences at a time.
It’s a quadrille Monday at the Poet’s Pub, #89 in fact, and Merril has served up the word “set”. Despite some initial technical difficulties I am now all set with these 44 words.
Seed potatoes and onion sets
his planting now mostly these
come fall he’ll gather butternuts
apple drops from straggly trees.
His old horse predeceased him
hamed collar hangs near the plow
wonders how he’ll get the wood in
to keep winter fires burning now.
there’s no more safe haven.
under myths’ cloaks.
Were there ever havens?
All hopes wither with yours
For awhile I have been meaning to try out “cinqku”, a form that Kat Myrman has been using quite effectively at like mercury colliding. This is not that five line form. This poem does have two sets of five lines with the cinqku 2,3,4,6,2 syllable count, followed by two final lines of 6 and 2 syllables. I fudged it, in form and function, all so that I cold make the 32 word count for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt challenge using the word “haven“.
It’s bad enough having a brother, even worse when he’s a twin, but not an identical twin, just fraternal, just another brother, except this one has the same birthday and everyone compares us, which he likes because to him everything is a competition, a contest, even though everything comes easily to him, even school.
In fifth grade Mrs. Wilson said she can’t go bending the rules now can she, that even though I have started reading a sixth book I haven’t finished six books so I can’t get on the bus to go on the special picnic with my brother and all the other kids who’ve managed to read six or more chapter books since Christmas break. I will have to stay behind with Ms. Danielson and her first and second graders.
It’s lunchtime but instead of going upstairs to the gym where lunch is usually served the little kids carry boxes of sandwiches and chips outside for a picnic and then we stay outside all afternoon because some of the boxes contain picture books. Ms. Danielson has me help some of the little kids with their reading and she tells her class to always choose kind and to work hard like me, tells me she knows I don’t just coast through school.
Now I am in sixth grade and Mrs. Wilson is trying to convince me to go on the picnic bus because I read eight chapter books, two more than my brother, but I don’t, I get permission to stay behind because it’s Friday and ever since that day in fifth grade I go to Ms. Danielson’s on Friday afternoons to read with the little kids.
The Six Sentence Story prompt is “coast”. Thank you Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for continuing the venerable tradition and coaxing stories, six sentences at a time.
Charli Mills sounded the historical depths of her Superior lake and discovered a mysterious and spooky tale , though what caught her was the idea of those “unremembered”. Who are they? What’s their story? The prompt led me to write from the Hudson’s point of view, to suggest an answer to the question of why the ship sank and why it rises once a year. I hope this prompts you to click over to Carrot Ranch to read the collection of 99 word stories that surfaced from Charli’s September 26 Flash Fiction Challenge.
I just stopped. Our arguing raged like the gale winds that pummeled us broadside. How could he? How could he have a fiancé waiting in port? I refused to move unless he forswore that woman. For hadn’t he already chosen a life on the waters? Wasn’t he wed to me?
He had his engineers doing all they could but I refused to respond, for his desperation was to make it to land- to her. No. Let her be unremembered.
High rolling waves consummated our vows. Now every September we celebrate our anniversary. He and I will never be forgotten.