Monday, October 9, 2017

Tuesday Tales and Healing Waters

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. However, once per month, we write to an image. This week it's the picture prompt. You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~







She was there to get lost, to get far away from the not only the things happening in her life, but, the way she felt about those things. Nothing was going right, she couldn’t find her sense of balance, and somewhere, she’d mostly lost her capacity to care. Although, she probably never had much give a damn in the first place.

Sunlight warmed her skin from the cool of the autumn morning. The trees kept their leafy coverings for just a bit longer before the chill of the impending winter signaled their shed. Planning to stay the day, a sort of breakfast lunch combination of random foods filled her backpack, leaving just enough room for a blanket.

Closing her eyes, she encouraged any natural mysticism to envelope her, forcing apprehensive and nagging thoughts to the bottom of her consciousness, where those type of reminders belonged. Willing the lake to wash away negativity, she briefly contemplated jumping in, but, that would certainly cut her trip short. Such a rash move would soak her in waters deceivingly colder than they appeared. So, a theoretical washing away would have to do, or she’d spend her day trying to warm up instead of forgetting.

But, if she didn’t feel better by the close of afternoon, she might just jump in anyway.

 Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of chain  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Monday, October 2, 2017

Tuesday Tales with Chain

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-chain.  This will be an excerpt from my new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~




“I have people whispering behind my back too, but, they don’t do it as much the more time passes. Eventually they stop.” Owen thought back to the times when everyone in town looked at him with a mixed gaze of fear and pity. He hated it then and really hated it now. “Plus, I have tough skin, it all rolls off.” Owen knew that was a lie, but, it sounded good.

“Let’s stop with the motivational speech. My life hasn’t been any good from as far back as I can remember. I was basically still a kid when everything got messed up. This isn’t about sticks and stones breaking my bones, but words never hurting me. I didn’t have a choice, I wasn’t even at home- I had no alternatives.”

Owen squeezed his eyes shut against the flood of bad memories, usually he did a very good job of keeping his darkest secrets in check. But, this was Pearl and he cared about her and maybe it was time to start purging his mysteries. He cleared his throat, yet his words still sounded like a bullfrog croaking. “My mom is in jail.” Chain would be less binding around his vocal cords.

“I’m sorry, Owen. I can’t imagine how hard that could be.” Pearl’s words trailed off, pain ricocheted off each syllable. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I can’t go into details right now, maybe sometime soon you and I can talk about everything. But, maybe this helps you understand you can trust me. I do get where you’re coming from. I promise.”

“Owen, I appreciate you shared that with me, I know it wasn’t easy for you to do.”

“Yea, but, you don’t feel like sharing with me? Nothing, you have nothing to say? I feel like such a girl right now.” Owen angrily shoved their picnic blanket into the duffel bag.

Pearl suddenly looked life weary and she looked off into the distance. “I don’t want you mad at me. I’m sorry.” Her words trailed off and she walked up next to Owen. “How much longer will she be there?”

Owen shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. I don’t go visit her.” He surveyed their spot one more time. “We’ve cleaned it all up, I’m ready to go back to Mr. Richard’s house now.” He started for the narrow trail.

“Wait, Owen, there’s something I do want to tell you.” Pearl ran up to meet Owen and tugged on the arm of his shirt. “Will you please stop?”

Years of pent up emotions bubbled closer to the surface than they had before. He never had anyone other than Caleb and Morgan he could really talk to about his mom’s incarceration. Of course, everyone in town knew what happened and every so often he would catch the sideways glance of pity and horror. His steel trap mind began pushing the brain vault shut, not really listening to Pearl. “Give me a minute, would you?”

Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of chain  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Monday, July 31, 2017

Tuesday Tales in a Box


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-box.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~



 









My day brightened, even if I didn’t want to acknowledge it. “I’m okay, trying to eat this breakfast.”


Observing my tray, he smiled. “You’re doing a great job. I’m happy to see your appetite perking up.”


“I’m doing what I can to be a good patient.”


“It’s all we can ask.”


This wasn’t his usual schedule, hopefully he wasn’t there to deliver bad news. “It’s early in the day, what’s the morning visit about?”


“Well, I was going through some of my storage containers and found something I think you might like.”


Storage containers? What in the world was in his history I would be interested in? “You don’t say?”


Waving a little brown paper bag in my direction, he teased me with the mystery. “Yeah, I got a kick out of it.”


“Okay, I give, what’s the big surprise?” In a way, his delight brought a little happiness to my morning.


Fishing around inside for the contents, he looked between me and the sack. He held up something in his large hand, waving it around triumphantly. “Look what I found!”


Inside his long, skilled fingers he held little plastic toys. Memories of times with Conner temporarily enveloped my sadness, folding it up neatly before tucking it away. Upon further inspection of the mysterious, I saw the unmistakable brown, molded outline of a body wide mane. “No way, is that what I think it is?”


For a moment, I was transported back to my childhood days. We spent hours playing with action of figures of different sorts. However, Star Wars was our clear favorite. Our parents influenced us with the likes of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg while our friends were hooked on Power Rangers and Ninja Turtles. I acknowledged our parents all the time for their tutelage in the classics.


“How cool is this?” Conner clearly had a huge kick of delight upon bringing me this treasure.


“You still have Chewbacca. I’m impressed.”


“I kept these tucked away in a dresser drawer or something, so, they never made it to the donation box.” Handing the figure over to me, he also held up a couple more. “Look, I have Obi Wan and Yoda too.”


“Wow, we really did spend hours with these things, didn’t we?”


“Yeah, it was awesome. I credit those hours with building my imagination. We were never bored were we?”


“No, I can say we weren’t. Plus, I was the only girl so I didn’t have to fight with anyone else about being Princess Leia.”


“That’s right, probably the most important part. You had no competition.”










Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of box  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Tuesday Tales Like a Stone


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-stone This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~



 


“When are you moving?”


Now, he took on a truly perplexed expression. “Moving? What are you talking about?”


He answered a question with a question. I tripped him up. “Sheila wanted to move back East. You’ve now been here for over six months, in Dallas I mean. Surely, your rotation has been long overdue. Isn’t she chomping at the bit for you to move?”


“It’s…complicated. I don’t have any answers for you right now. I’m here for your project idea, can we focus on that?”


I didn’t think so. Sheila was suddenly the large elephant in the room, disguised in a beautiful feminine form. “I haven’t talked with you about your life, your wedding, your job. I’ve monopolized our relationship with my needs. I’ve been selfish, actually.”


Pushing his empty plate away, Conner rubbed his hand over his face- his tell. “It’s not selfish. Rachel, you’ve had so much happen in this past year. You’ve endured more struggles that some people double your age. We needed to help you get into a good place.”


Oh, I understood. I was a distraction. Not in a bad way, but, I was his distraction. He could help me and put his own personal life on the back burner. “You didn’t want to move to the East Coast, did you?”


Closing his eyes, and tilting his head back, Conner released the biggest sigh ever. He didn’t sigh very often, only when he seemed frustrated or couldn’t control a situation. “No, I didn’t. My home is with my mom and…here, in Oklahoma. I had to move once. I got the chance to come back, so, I didn’t want to blow it.”


“What does that mean about Sheila?” Wait a minute, I didn’t want to know. This conversation was taking the darkened fork in the road. The place I avoided. “Never mind, let’s get back to why you’re here.”


Why was he here?


I mean really why was he here?


Finally smiling, he appeared as relieved as I felt. We needed to get away from such personal conversation. “Yes, let’s get back to the priority. If I’m digging holes, I need time to get it done. I’ve got to get back to work Monday you know.”


He meant temporary rotation. He didn’t move to Dallas permanently. He wasn’t on a stepping stone to move back here. He had his own life to live.


I think talking about Garrett was easier than talking with Conner about his personal life.


That’s messed up.







Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of stone  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Monday, May 22, 2017

Tuesday Tales and a Staple

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-staple This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~



 
At least I wouldn’t interfere from home. I was on a different playing level when the hospital discharged me. Now, I was on Sheila’s turf and was best not to infringe. I certainly didn’t want to give the wrong impression. But, I really missed him. I wondered how life was in Dallas for his clinical assignment.
Who was I kidding? I wanted to know how he handled the long-distance relationship with Sheila. Was it working out? Was he preparing to make the final move out East?
It wasn’t any of my business.
My heart ached for Garrett in moments like this. After we became engaged, I recalled how we planned for our future. We had many dreams too. We lived a few of those- our romantic honeymoon, our wonderful home, getting pregnant with Ryan…yes, we lived many dreams. I envied Sheila, and I needed to get over it.
I wandered into the living room to escape my thoughts and condemned longings. Mom watched the news channel incessantly, as if life could change in the blink of an eye. In our case, we knew it could. Clicking off the television, she apparently noticed my skulking. “Hello dear, how are you and Mr. Ryan today?”
I must admit, she left me alone, giving me the privacy she knew I desired.

“We’re fine. He’s getting a fat little tummy- like a bullfrog.” I handed him over to his impatiently waiting nana.

“Oh, how are you today, my beautiful Ryan. Ignore your momma, you’re not fat, you’re perfect.” Whispering gently into his little ear, being a grandmother more than obviously suited her.

“Mom, I need to think about what I’m going to do with the house. You know, catch up on the business end of life. I’ve avoided it for far too long.”

“Oh, honey, there’s no hurry. You deserve a few weeks with this little distraction before you jump into reality. Believe me, it’s not going anywhere, it’ll be there when you’re ready.”

“But, that’s the thing, I’m ready. I can’t ignore my life. I’m an adult.”

Mom carefully studied my expression, as if she really was seeing me- the grown-up me. “Sweetie, you’ve been through so much more than some people twice your age have dealt with. I’m so proud of you for how you take each day. I know it’s not easy.” Cocking her head to the side, she elaborated. “Saying it’s not easy is a dramatic understatement. I’m not sure I have the words to describe how I’ve observed your life the past several months.”

“I appreciate you, mom. I still cry, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over Garrett. I’m so sad he isn’t here to hold Ryan, actually be part of the little person we created together. But, when I want to melt down, I look at Ryan and he’s the same reason keeping me sane and even a semblance of solid. He’s worth so much more than me crawling under a rock and forgetting I have a life.”


Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of staple  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Tueday Tales and Tribute to Mother


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-mother.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~








My mother only wanted to help. However, I needed to read this one in private.
May is an incredible month every year not just because it's Mother's Day but it's your birthday and I know that I complain every year about what to get you and not knowing what to buy because you seem to have everything but the truth is I've always enjoyed thinking about what I can give you that would be as unique and special as you are thankfully no matter what I do you never complain you never returned it and you've always acted like it was the best thing that you never received I'm sorry I won't be able to buy you more birthday presents I mean truth is if I'm not there I can't do any shopping I hope you left that at least smiled a little bit but every year I want you to get yourself a dozen Gerbera daisies because you know I'll get you those in addition to anything else every year when you buy that bouquet of flowers I want you to know that I'm right there at that moment smiling handing them to you when you fall in love again and I hope that you will no matter what he does for your birthday I still want you to buy yourself that bouquet of flowers every year because you're worth it and you need to remember just how important it is to smell the flowers and take time for the small things sometimes in life the big things over shadow the most important tiny fractions of life.
You're going to be a mom and as I write this I don't know when exactly that will be but I know but the love and your heart is too large to keep all to yourself that's how I know you're going to become someone's mother someday and when that child understands what Mother's Day is about it's as if he already knew because everyday would be Mother's Day because of how special you are.
Happy birthday honey and Happy Mother's Day for every year you celebrate.






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Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Tuesday Tales and a Good Cry, (is there such a thing)


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- cry This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.

Enjoy!~












Mom carefully studied my expression, as if she really was seeing me- the grown-up me. “Sweetie, you’ve been through so much more than some people twice your age have dealt with. I’m so proud of you for how you take each day. I know it’s not easy.” Cocking her head to the side, she elaborated. “Saying it’s not easy is a dramatic understatement. I’m not sure I have the words to describe how I’ve observed your life the past several months.”



“I appreciate you, mom. I still cry, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over Garrett. I’m so sad he isn’t here to hold Ryan, actually be part of the little person we created together. But, when I want to melt down, I look at Ryan and he’s the same reason keeping me sane and even a semblance of solid. He’s worth so much more than me crawling under a rock and forgetting I have a life.”
I just wanted one full day when I didn’t cry.

“That’s my girl.” Rocking Ryan, she cooed slightly toward his curious expression. He watched her with such intensity. I wished I knew what he was thinking. She turned toward me and sighed. “You have a letter from an attorney among all the other mail redirected here for you. I went through anything not immediately pressing and handled things such as the final utility bills and that sort of thing.”


“Thank you, I didn’t even think of all that.”


“No worries, it’s done.” Getting up slowly, she cradled Ryan closely into her arms. From a roll top desk, she pointed toward a stack of letters and other mail. “On top here is the letter from the attorney’s office. Everything underneath is yours too.”


“Why would we get a letter from an attorney? We didn’t have any legal business pending.” Immediately, I needed to know. Ignoring the other mail, I grabbed the letter and took it to the couch. Sitting down, I prepared myself to open it. If mom had any prior knowledge about this, she wasn’t speaking up.


Carefully sliding the envelope open, I found one single sheet inside. The simple note expressed condolences before requesting I make an appointment to see the local lawyer. Waving the page around in the air, I was dumbfounded. “The attorney wants me to come in to his office. Do you have any clue about this?”


“I don’t, but, I’ll go with you.”


I made an appointment for the following morning.

Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of cry  Tuesday Tales Main Page