Tomboy. #FFfAW #flashfiction


Photo (c) Enisa

Tomboy, by Pamela Schloesser Canepa.  (c) 2018

It was a good memory.  Until it wasn’t anymore.

The sun shone vividly and bounced off of the rocks and the shallow water.  I admired my next door neighbor, Rolan, so much.  He was a little older, but I was a tomboy.  I was like a younger brother.

Yeah, right.

That was the day I became a woman, and there was no hiding it from Rolan.  He seemed disgusted.

“Now we gotta go home!”

“I’m sorry,”  I said.

“You need to quit tryin’ to be something you’re not.  You don’t belong out here with me.  Go to the mall with the other girls.”

On the way back, the tears burned my dirt-streaked face.  I hated that.  I was acting like a girl.  Maybe he was right.  I didn’t belong there.

Needless to say, we were no longer friends.  So I started going to the creek with Henry.  I choose where I belong.

~Approx. 163 words


Visit Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  for more information about this Flash fiction challenge!


Friday Fictioneers, #flashfiction. Resist.

Photo credit, (c) Janet Webb.

Overwrought with emotions, Mary took out pen and paper.  Tomorrow the family of the man she was arranged to marry, as was the custom in those days, would visit.

He was a man of means, something she should desire.  He was not the man of her dreams, who’d gallop in, rescuing her from this lecher who’d touched her backside like he owned her.

By candlelight, she wrote a goodbye letter, surrounded by the trappings of femininity.  They’d stay behind.

She stuffed her brother’s clothes into a satchel, grabbing a blade.  Her hair dropped in one swift cut.  Practice pays off.~


*Exactly 100 words.

*Directions: Write a story in 100 words or less in response to the photo prompt.  Give the photographer credit.  Enter your link to the inlinkz button.  Respond to others.

*Friday fictioneers is a blog/writer’s challenge hosted weekly by Rochelle at

R is for Rebel (v.) #AtoZChallenge


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I silently rebel.  But rebel, I will.  (In simple Yoda speak).  Every morning, instead of going to work early, I am pushing the minutes and on the computer either blogging, social networking, or writing in Word.  Writing is one way I speak up, albeit wrapped in metaphors.  There are always several things I could be doing, and sometimes I metaphorically put up the middle finger and say, “Leave me alone.  I’m writing.”

My son has, at times, not spoken to me in rebellion.  Perhaps I am rebelling against the grief one has when a family member changes so drastically.  We have been through a lot in the last three years.

But another element I am rebelling against is growing older.  I’m in my late forties and I still wear blue jeans, graphic tees, and sometimes, hoop earrings.  I wear sneakers more often than any other type of shoe these days.  And I have taken to, *gasp*, reading fanfiction!  It’s fun, when I need a break from anything serious in life.

So, I suppose my form of rebelling is for a totally different reason than the rebellion of our beloved teenagers in this world.  Or is it perhaps, much the same?  Aren’t we rebelling against societal expectations?

As arthritis slows me down and sometimes makes me think twice, there are those days when I am typing for a few hours straight. I may be in my pajamas until noon on those days.  There are those other days when I take hiking walks for a few miles with the dog and my son.  Inertia may be one thing I just have to rebel against, for it will take over if I let it.  If I am in my jammies until noon, trust me, I have been reading something or writing, I did not just do nothing!

Sometimes I joke about approaching fifty.  Why not?  It’s more fun if we laugh at ourselves.  There’s the sad tone from one of T.S. Eliot’s poems: “I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear my trousers rolled….”  When I utter this line, I feel I am being humorous, ironically.

But here’s the one I really mean, the one that truly inspires me, by Dylan Thomas:

“Do not go gently into that great night….

Rage!  Rage against the dying of the light!” 

Which one would you rather chant as your growing-old mantra?

**The AtoZ Challenge theme for my blog is “Who I am.” Yes, it’s wide open.  In April, I will blog from A to Z to include little tidbits about me, poems I’ll share, and stories. Each day I will write something based on the next letter in the alphabet.  It’s been fun so far, yet it has really given me a chance to pause for reflection as well.

Want to know more about the A-Z blog challenge?  Visit

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