I Took the Fall, a repost from my archives. #flashfiction

“I Took the Fall,” by Pamela Schloesser Canepa, (c) 2017.   I hereby declared Tuesdays to be Short Tales Tuesday, wherein I will post a new or a past short story or flash fiction I have written. Enjoy!

I headed back to the yard with my garden hoe.  I hate killing living things, but this bugger looked poisonous.  He was further back in the brush.

“Sure, you keep your distance now.”  I sat on the ground, sweating.

“You would too, Missssssssss.” His tongue darted out.

I jumped.  “What?”

“Yesssss.  It’ssss me.  Come on, I am alwaysss judged by my outer cover, my ssscales sssso to sssspeak.  It’sss not fair.  All because of Hisssstory, mythology, the Bible, whatever.”

“I’m sorry.”  I looked at him through new eyes.  It had to be a he, though who could tell?

“Yessss.  Imagine what it’sss like.   Way back when, Armadillo sslipped up.  You know he’s a good candidate to stand for evil.  But no, I defended him.  I took the fall for him.”

He actually looked sad.

It seemed he’d started to trust me.  He’d slithered out from the bush.  The garden hoe was resting next to me, forgotten.

Suddenly, he sprang at me, and I was overcome, knocked down.

“S-ssssucker!”

I took the fall.

~The end~

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa. A re-post I originally posted in 2017 as a response to the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers blog challenge.

 

beige python on brown branch of tree
Photo by Worldspectrum on Pexels.com

Fortune Cookie, Psych Profile #FOWC

At one with the stars

She opened the cookie

And peered into her mind

Unscrolling her secrets, her dreams, her life

How did they know her?

“You are prone to flights of fancy,” it read.

“Visions of fairies and stars in your head

Imagination and dreams rule you, yet some things fill you with dread

And you scream inwardly at your own imperfections

Oftentimes, you compromise and change direction

 

Your brain is, at once, playground and haunted house

Befriend the ghosts. Thank them for the growth they have aroused. “

 

Either. #FOWC

Poem by Pamela Schloesser Canepa, (c) 2019

Either you walk out the door,

Or you stay in

Either the problem is someone else

Or it lies within.

Either you’re just aging

Or drastically sick

Either you break free

Or get beaten with a stick.

Either you’re plowed under,

Or you rise above

You are either the war monger

Or the peaceful dove.

I mean this, my child, please listen to me.

Either you choose,

Or you cease to be.

There’s no half-existing, you see.

Either is a word, that is dear to me.

-Mother to Daughter

If I had a daughter…I’d hold nothing back.  I’d tell her the truth, so she’d live better than I did.  I have had a son.  He knows the unique history of women; he would never hurt a woman. I’ve shown him to respect a woman and treat her as an equal.  I have done my best. (Photo found at Pixabay).  

*Posted in response to Fandango’s One Word Prompt found at https://pamelascanepa.wordpress.com/2019/12/13/either-fowc/

Best of the Year, Dec. 25, 2018. #2018BOTY

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Thank you to Beaton at becomingthemuse.wordpress.com for the image and for making me aware of this awesome bloggers’ challenge!

What Christmas looks like: Family, friends, love.

 

A gift from someone who really gets me!

And seeing my loved ones smile.

All this, along with the love and antics of our little fur baby just make my heart sing!

Merry Christmas/ Happy Holiday to you and yours!

Stopping by the Highway. #FFfAW. #amwriting

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Jodi McKinney.

The air was crisp and cool, and Mom started the heat.  We had stopped twice already for hot chocolate.  Brent kept complaining about the cold.

“Come back here, Brent,”  I called.

I put my feet up on his legs and he grimaced.  “Oh, they’re not that heavy,” I insisted.  “It’ll warm you up.”  My strained neck leaned on a pillow by the window.  It was a long ride, but soon, we would see snow.

“There are snowflakes on the windshield!” Mom exclaimed.

We gazed out the window.

“I wanna make a snowball!”  Brent shouted.  Small patches had gathered.

We stopped on the shoulder and got out.  Brent collected a handful of mostly dirt and threw it at me.  Mom sighed.

What else could I do but collect my own and throw it back?  He giggled.

“Okay, you’ve had your first snowball fight.  Time to go,” Mom instructed.   “There will be enough for a snowman where we’re going.”  (approx. 163 words)

**Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers provides a weekly prompt for inspiration.  Writers must create a story of 100-150 words, give or take 25.

 

 

 

Bridging the Transition. #FridayFictioneers #FlashFiction

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller

Desmond starting signing the song, “Bridge over troubled water.”

“I hate bridges,” Chastity interrupted.

“It’s getting us to the other side.  Be thankful.  What if you were alone when that old car broke down?  Out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Just know, Desmond, when we get to civilization, we go our separate ways. I didn’t leave John just to be harnessed to another guy.”

“You are quite progressive for 1972.”

“Better late than never,” she mumbled, missing his point.

Desmond had no tricks up his sleeve.  Is that why she enlisted his help?  He braced himself for goodbye.

~98 words (story only)

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly prompt challenged presented at rochellewisoff.com

I encourage you to visit and read other responses.  Consider joining the fun!

 

 

Excess. Friday Fictioneers, #flashfiction

 

 

He’d spent years collecting these things and never used any of them.  Today he was going to make use of them in the best way possible.

Dwight gathered several of the clothes on the shelves and placed them in a bag for the shelter downtown.  Among them, the sweatshirt from his birthday, never worn.

The excess of his family was embarrassing.  This was a sort of rebellion; they’d either praise him for a newfound generosity or chide him for being reckless. Yet, this wasn’t reckless.

He grabbed the old clock.  Mr. Brewer next door would love tinkering with it.

 

*100 words*

P.S.- When I pondered the many objects here, my mind went to Chris McCandless,  subject of the movie and non-fiction book, Into the Wild

It is a true story of his longing to give up a privileged life of excess and of his travels from California to the Alaskan wilderness, living off of nature along the way.  There is no happy ending, as he went to such extremes. The book seemed to really dive into his psyche and speculate on why he went to such extremes.  We may never know, but this book really made me think.  It’s quite interesting that this photo prompt was offered around Black Friday!

Friday Fictioneers is a challenge posted at https://rochellewisoff.com/ weekly with the posting of a new photo prompt.  The stories are to be 100 words or less, and contain a beginning, middle, and end.  Please visit Rochelle’s site to learn how to join in and read other entries in this Flash fiction challenge!

 

Weekend Coffee Share…Of Walter Dean Myers, bucket lists, baby goats, and writing goals.

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Welcome to the Weekend Coffee Share!  Please don’t hate me because I live in Florida, and it will be close to 80 degrees today.  At least my iced coffee is pumpkin spice flavor!  😉

First, I’d like to ask, which rings true for you?  Here are two alternate skits:

Child:  Grandpa, why are we here?

Grandfather:  To love one another and care for this great Earth.

Alternate:

Child:  Grandpa, why are we here?

Grandfather:  To compete with each other, destroy our enemies, and turn a profit.

I will not deny that this may seem a little political.  I have a hard time verbalizing such things.  I love people regardless of their political beliefs.  But I am having such a hard time lately dealing with recent policy changes, seeing the earth pilfered, people hurt, and families torn apart.  I may seem like a pipe dreamer, but I have long ago realized that was my place on this Earth.  If we all saw things in black and red (monetarily and us vs. them), it would be an ugly world indeed.  I’ve also accepted that, if I were alive in the Middle Ages, I would have been an artisan, poor indeed, but I would make people smile or cry, and they’d throw me enough crumbs to keep me alive.  I’d also be least likely to get beheaded.  I obviously would dress for comfort and not to impress some king into putting jewels on my head.  I’m perfectly fine with my place in life.  If I should ever make it big as an author, I’ll wear what the heck I want to book signings, just like Stephen King.

Now, off of my soapbox.  I have not participated in Weekend Coffee Share in a while!  Part of that is due to neglecting to blog more than once a week.  I’ve been doing the flash fiction entries since it’s tickles my fancy, but only once a week.  It’s good to be back, even if for once in a blue moon.  I love my writers’ community, and I’m glad you all are still here in this space!

Work has kept me busy, busy, while I try to promote my published books.  I’m not writing a book for NANOWRIMO, but I am fleshing out and revising the one I wrote last November.  It is a sequel to my time travel novel, Detours in Time .  This sequel has gone from 45,000 words to 56,000 when I last checked, so I am making progress.  Still, some nights, I get home from work and just want to read and relax.  It may not be completely revised at the end of November, and that’s okay.  I get achy in my hands and arms at times, either due to arthritis or the way I manage stress (internalizing).  So, I’m not pushing it.  All will happen in due time.  I don’t see myself quitting the job to just write until I most likely legitimately retire from teaching.

The workplace has given me more challenges than last year, I believe.  My family life is calmer, but I come home from work good and tired.  I won’t complain about the job; there are good days and bad days.  Sometimes, you can know just what to say to tell a student you’ve “got their number,” and it may work.  Other days, it’s quite overwhelming and you just wonder why they have to be manipulated or pleaded with to do the right thing?  Ah, the nature of middle-schoolers.  They don’t always know who they are.

At least I get to teach one of my favorite books again:  Bad Boy by Walter Dean Myers.  Talk about a struggle for identity.  This book is about his life, and he sure went through some hard times regarding: poverty, race, identity, growing up in Harlem, family issues, and adolescence in general.  I know I mentioned this last week in my Stream of Consciousness post.  This book stays with me.  We are starting to study author’s point of view in a memoir.  I’m hoping I have enough artistic kids, because what I’d like to do is have posters of his head opening like a box with a hinge, and his thoughts on paper strips coming out.  Truly, isn’t that what a writer does?  We open it up for others to see what is inside.  Usually, there is an end goal.  He obviously wants to inspire kids of today to stop making excuses and go for their dreams.  I know Myers inspires me.

Well, Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, is coming soon.  We’re going to NC to see my brother and sister-in-law.  The cooler weather will be nice.  I think I’ll gain weight.  I do yoga once or twice a week, but my cardio is faltering.  I blame it on weather fluctuations and writing goals.  I just have to do enough to make sure my clothes still fit.  Buying a whole new wardrobe doesn’t appeal to me like it used to.  I guess I’m getting more practical as I move toward fifty.  It’s gonna be awesome.  I will make it awesome.  I’ve added beer yoga, baby-goat yoga, trying helium beer with my high-school best friend, and still have sky-diving on my bucket list.  Wish me luck in these endeavors!      (Seriously, find a video of baby goat yoga.  They jump all over the place and look so light-weight.  It just seems like a joyful, laughter-filled experience I’d love to try.  Watch it and feel your blood pressure drop)!

-Pamela

#WeekendCoffeeShare is now hosted at https://eclecticali.wordpress.com/ Please visit the blog to view other weekend coffee shares and to enter your own.

How was your week?  What’s going on in your life and your artistic/ blogging endeavors?

Squawk! #fridayfictioneers #amwriting

                  PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

 

I should’ve known that bird would be trouble.

On the way home from the pet store:  “Hurry up Bi#$@!”

I jumped.  Why do I go for charming rogues?  He’d shown no signs of this tendency at the store.  Figures.

At home:  “I’m f*&%^g hungry!”

Geez, he reminded me of my ex, Wade.  We hadn’t spoken in years.  Was this a reincarnation?

This went on for weeks.  He’d eye me while eating his food, and blurt out “b*&^%” one more time.

No woman should put up with this.  I sold him for two bucks in a garage sale.  As is.

*100 words*

**To find out more about Friday Fictioneers or to post your own flash fiction, go to https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/10/11/6-october-2017/  to preview the weekly photo prompt, rules, and guidelines.  Click the “InLinks” froggy button to share your own or to read other flash fiction tales.

 

“Feather.” FFfaw Flash fiction. #amwriting

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Feather only bought the cheapest coffee, then loaded it with vanilla creamer.  We met exactly three times.

She was a college student of anthropology, which seemed to fit the long hair and equally long skirts.

That girl had big dreams for the world.  I was too busy deciding on Medical school or Sports Medicine.  I wanted to help people, but make money doing it.

We enjoyed ourselves that night we danced at the outdoor concert.  Her hair was silky and soft.  She said she was leaving for Brussels in the morning.  We danced a lot, and she let me hold onto her briefly, like the whole of our time together.

It was short-lived, but I still thank my friend Roma to this day for introducing us.  I don’t know where he found her, but if anyone could find a rare gem like that, it was Roma.

~The End~

*146 words*

Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

  1. A prompt photo will be provided each Monday pm to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.
  2. Linking for this challenge begins on Monday pm and runs to the following Monday pm.
  3. Please credit photo to photographer.
  4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try and stay within this limit.
  5. Please indicate the number of words in your story at the end of your story. (It doesn’t count into the amount of words).

Find other guidelines and add the link for your story to the Inlinkz button at flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com and while there, visit and comment on some of the other stories!