A magical new weekly writing opportunity from me – Jenne Gray – and him – C. E. Ayr. Visit this blog every Friday, read an amazing story from each of us, and then post your own even better effort in the comments below. Or on your own blog and stick the link down in the comments. The rules are: Maximum of 250 words. Inspired by photo prompt above. That’s it.
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Banned!
By Tessa Dean May 2024
I approached a man standing before a sign holding a leash from which he led a German Shepherd dog. My Cocker Spaniel was beside me on his leash.
“What does the sign say? “ I asked the man beside me.
He turned to me and said, “No domestic animals on the beach after 6 AM and before 9 PM.”
“You’re saying I can’t take my dog for a walk on the beach during the day? That’s a bit harsh. He’s a real water baby, and I’m not keen on walking in the dark.”
“I wouldn’t try it if I was you. They are quite set in following the rules that have been set up. I saw someone being led down to the police station last week because he insisted on walking his dog during the restricted hours.”
“Well I am not brave enough to break the rules. I guess I will have to find another place to walk him. Do you have any suggestions?”
“No, I just wait until after 9 PM and walk my dog then. I can’t be bothered getting up before 6 AM. Good luck in finding another place to walk your dog.”
**********195 words***********
Tessa–
Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses
I managed to catch the ball my friend tossed to me, but then I dropped it. I didn’t used to fumble the ball while playing catch. Age is catching up to me.
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Tessa–
Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses
Welcome to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (U.S.).
Today’s word is “silver.”
Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.
Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Please check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, ÿplease manually add your link in the comments.
And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. Show them some love.
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The jeweler laid the silver rings, bracelets and necklaces out on the velvet cloth so I could examine them more closely. I preferred silver to gold and fully intended to buy one of each for the ball being held at the local hotel next week.
Tessa–
Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses
Hello! Welcome to Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. Each week I will post an image I grab off the internet and challenge bloggers to write a flash fiction piece or a poem inspired by the image. There are no style or word limits.
The image depicts a swing ride in colors of bright yellow, blue, and red. There are people in many of the swings, riding the ride. Behind the swing ride, we see a white Ferris wheel with blue bucket seats. The background is blue sky with a few clouds.
If this week’s image inspires you and you wish to participate, please write your post and use the tag #FFFC. Please create a pingback to this post and/or manually add your link in the comments. I hope it will generate some great posts. Don’t forget to stop back and read/comment on the posts of others. Thank you for participating!
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My piece:
Ferris Wheel
By Tessa Dean May 2024
The traffic was backed up to the highway from the amusement park, and the cars were at a dead stop. We came early to hopefully avoid the traffic jams, but obviously, everyone else had the same idea. We hadn’t moved for at least half an hour or so. We watched the large blue Ferris Wheel in the distance and saw it move, load, and unload. We knew the park was open, so why weren’t we moving?
The kids were getting restless in the back seat of the minivan, their complaints becoming more frequent. We assured them we would arrive soon, but their constant whining only added to our frustration.
I wasn’t looking forward to this. As an adult, it had become harder for me to ride the rides at these places, and so we were mainly here for the children. I remember the days when I couldn’t wait to go on the roller coaster, which was my favorite ride. Now, I could only manage the Ferris Wheel and the carousel.
Finally, the car ahead of us moved one space up. At this rate, we would be in line for half an hour or more. We moved up one space and warned the kids that if they didn’t shut up, we were turning around and going home.
Just then, the line began to move. We pulled into the park and headed for the parking space that the attendant showed us. We unloaded the kids, put the baby in the stroller, and headed toward the park entrance.
The lines were long, and we knew we would be standing in lines most of the day. We headed to the roller coaster for the older kids. We told them they were to meet us at noon for lunch at the food court, and then we took the younger children to the children’s park.
We found a ride with the shortest line and waited for our turn. They would probably get to ride a few rides before our lunch break. After lunch we would head to the Ferris Wheel and the Carousel. By that time, the younger kids would be tired and ready to go, which would cause a fight since the older kids wouldn’t want to leave that early. We couldn’t blame them, but we had to consider the younger ones too. We would bring the older ones back one day by themselves so they could ride everything late into the night.
Tessa–
Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses
Here are the prompts for this week’s Writer’s Workshop:
Write a post based on the word window.
Write a post in exactly 11 sentences.
Tell us about a time you got lost while going somewhere.
Write about a food (or combination of foods) you overinduged in and now can’t stand.
Tell us about a skill that turned out to be unexpectedly valuable.
Write about a time you got a fine or penalty.
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I chose prompt number 1 and 4.
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Oh No, Not Again!
Tessa Dean May 2024
I stared out the window, trying to ignore what my boyfriend was cooking up. I didn’t want to even see what he was making because I knew it was the same thing we ate every day and I could no longer stand to eat it. I was going to have to tell him and he wouldn’t understand since he didn’t mind eating the same thing everyday.
I turned around from the view out the window and cleared my throat. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I can’t eat the macaroni and cheese another time. I am sick to death of it. I can’t force it down one more time. I dread even seeing the box because I know how it is going to taste. How can you eat this every day?”
He simply stared at me. What’s wrong with it? I love it and don’t mind eating it every day and it is easy to make to boot!”
I just groaned.
Tessa–
Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses
Jane strode into her grandmother’s bedroom, her steps echoing her determination. The rumor was that she had kept a diary, and Jane was determined to find it. She had many questions about the family that needed answering since her friends were asking her about her grandmother’s life. Jane had been complaining about never meeting her grandmother, and they fired up her enthusiasm to learn more about her. Her mother refused to talk about her. She said they weren’t on great terms at the end of her grandmother’s life, and she didn’t want to talk about it, and it wasn’t any of Jane’s business.
Jane couldn’t understand why her mother was so secretive, but one day, her mother slipped and told her that her grandmother was always writing in a diary. Jane made it her quest to find the diary if possible. She hoped to learn more about her somehow.
She looked under the pillow, which was a very obvious place to hide a diary. Everyone would look there first. Of course, it wasn’t there.
She then tried under the mattress, and again, no sign of a diary. Now, in the dim light, a shadow of doubt crept in. Where would she hide it if not in the places everyone thinks to look first? She looked around the room again.
As she scanned the room, she saw a jewelry box perched on top of a chest of drawers. Intrigued, she made her way to it and lifted the lid. Among the glimmering jewels, her fingers brushed against something flat and leathery. She pulled out a small book. The book that would soon change her understanding of her past, she hoped.
Upon opening the book, she found what looked to be cursive writing in a long flowing script. This had to be the elusive diary.
She took the book to the lounge and settled down to read it. Her grandmother had died not long after her 5th birthday, so they never had a relationship, and she always felt sorry for herself when her friends would talk about their grandparents.
Maybe this book would tell her something that would answer some of her questions, but if her grandmother had been writing in a diary all her life, she would have many of these books lying around. Perhaps in the attic, Jane thought. And who knew which book would contain the information she sought?
On page one, she saw the book’s starting date—the year she died. This must be the last one she kept. She scanned the entries quickly and found they abruptly stopped the day before her death.
She went to page one and began to read. Her grandmother talked about the estrangement between her mother and herself. She wanted a relationship with her daughter, but her daughter, Jane’s mother, refused to allow her into her life. Her grandmother seemed to have overstepped her bounds and tried to tell her daughter how to raise her child, and that was unforgivable, according to Jane’s mother. She knew what was best for her child.
She mentioned several confrontations between the two and then the day her mother told her mother to butt out of her life, and if she didn’t stop it, she would make her find another place to stay. Jane couldn’t imagine being estranged from her mother for any reason.
Her grandmother mentioned that the friends she grew up with had started to come around, and they were talking about where they had all grown up in a local orphanage. Jane was surprised to find out that her grandmother had been an orphan. She wondered if her mother knew about it. Maybe she would have felt differently if she had known her mother had been an orphan. Obviously, her grandmother didn’t want anyone to know, and these friends pressed her to tell others about her life in the orphanage. The pressure from these women must have brought on her anxiety that had sprung up during the days before the car accident that took her life.
Jane hopped up from the lounge, clutching the book, and went searching for her mother. She found her in the kitchen making dinner.
“Mom, I found grandmother’s diary, which says she grew up in an orphanage. Did you know this? That must have been horrible for her.”
“What are you talking about, Jane? My mother had a family. She never mentioned being in an orphanage. Although I never did meet her parents, who would have been my grandparents. Maybe she did grow up in an orphanage. Oh I had been so horrible to her. I never should have forced her to stay away from you. I thought she was just a busybody who didn’t think I knew how to raise a child on my own and here she had no one to help her. I can’t even ask her for forgiveness now. What have I done?”
Tessa–
Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses
Tessa Dean - Author 