Category: Fiction

Posted in Fiction, romance, The Blog Propellant

The Silver and the Divorce

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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Waiting on this divorce was so hard. Ana couldn’t wait until the property settlement was worked out and it was all finally in motion. That hadn’t happened yet. Now her soon-to-be ex-husband was outside mowing the yard. He was not really supposed to be on the property and now, on top of that, someone was knocking at the door. Ana went to the door. Her husband was standing there.

“Ana, I need to come in, cool off, and get a drink of water. It’s hot out here,” Walter said, her husband. Ana, being a kind soul, lets Walter inside. Instead of walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water, Walter walked straight to the living room and the silver chest. He reached in, took the small silver chest out, and started to walk outside.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Ana cried.

“What does it look like?” Walter said.

While he was distracted, Ana grabbed the silver chest out of his hands before he could get out the door. She thought he was going to hit her.

“Give that back to me,” Walter said.

Ana said, “Walter, I inherited that silver. That is not yours. Don’t you dare think you can remove that from this house.” Walter tried to grab it from her again.

Ana’s sister was temporarily living with her during her divorce as they didn’t feel, even before this incident, they could trust Walter. Marcia was standing in the living room, getting ready to dial 911 on the phone.

Marcia said, “Walter, I’m calling the police if you don’t get out of this house immediately.”

Walter didn’t leave. Instead, he started taunting the two women. Calling Ana names. Saying terrible things. Marcia immediately called the police and they didn’t take long to show up. There must have been a cruiser in the area.

A male and female police officer exited the cruiser and Ana went outside and told the officers what had happened, over Walter’s screams and insults. Ana felt her temper about to explode as she had been through a lot with Walter already, during the course of the separation. She was trying to keep her emotions in check and having a hard time doing it.

The male officer took Walter aside to talk to him as the female officer talked to Ana. There was a restraining order against Walter. He wasn’t even supposed to be there, let alone removing property from the house. The officer’s told Walter to leave and Ana to go inside the house. Before Walter left, he continued to scream insults at Ana. Ana was about to explode and the female officer could tell. She had her hand on Ana’s arm.

Finally, Walter said the wrong thing before the officer’s could get him off the property. He screamed insults about Ana’s family and the fact she had inherited a number of items from them. This was a sensitive subject between them as Ana’s family had always been good to Walter and loved him. It was enough to cause Ana’s temper to finally blow.

Suddenly, Ana did not care that two police officers were standing in the yard with she and Walter. She saw the metal gas can on the lawn right next to her and she picked it up and swung it at Walter’s head. Not once, but twice. Had Walter not ducked, she would have hit him with it. All the while, Ana was returning the screaming insults at Walter as he began to call her a crazy whore. He had pushed her too far.

The action was almost too fast for the police officers but as Walter came toward Ana, the male police officer grabbed Walter as the female police officer just kept her hand on Ana’s arm and quietly told her to shut up right now. Walter had clearly violated the restraining order but Ana had also tried to assault him, even though she did it to protect herself, her sister, and her property.

Walter was sent away with a warning not to come back on the property while he was under the restraining order. Ana was warned, by a giggling female police officer, not to assault her husband no matter how tempting it was. Everyone went to their respective corners.

As Ana and Marcia tried to relax that evening by reading and watching television, they could hear Walter’s motorcycle circling and circling the block. Ana thought of her silver and decided to sleep with it under her bed. #amwriting #amblogging #writing #romance #divorce #blogpropellant

Read Part 2, The Silver and the Divorce HERE

@Copyright Rosemary Carlson 2016

 

 

 

Posted in Fantasy and Magic, Fiction, Flash Fiction, romance

Roundup of Fiction Stories

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

A reader asked me to post a list of all the fiction blog stories I’ve written. You can also find the list on the front page of the blog at a link at the top of the home page under Fiction.

You can find all Fiction HERE.

Posted in Fantasy and Magic, Fiction, romance

The Play: The Power of Magic, Part 2

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

To read Part 1 of The Play,  click here The Play: The Power of Magic

Josh and April, after reading the script for The Play: The Power of Magic, decided something was wrong. It didn’t seem complete. They decided to send it back to the theatre department’s scriptwriters, make some suggestions, and ask their opinions. Two days passed and it was getting close to time to try to find actors for the play. Josh and April were getting nervous. Then, the scriptwriter’s sent back the script and they were in agreement. They expanded the script with some changes.

Josh explains the revised script. He tells April that Rachael did, indeed help give Peter back his youth with her magic for a little while. But no man would be content with regaining his youth just for a little while. The scriptwriter’s realized that was the flaw in the script. Instead, it continued like this:

The reason the fantasy only last for a little while was because Peter was also involved with a woman named Prissy. One of the main reasons Peter felt old was because Prissy made him feel old with her judgmental attitude and her criticisms of him. Prissy was a woman old before her time and wanted to control every aspect of Peter’s life. Peter thought he needed Prissy.

Usually, there is a reason a man stays with such a woman. We all have flaws and, in Peter’s case, his flaw caused him to stay with Prissy – his need for the security that money brought. Prissy came from a wealthy family and she had the money, together with Peter’s money, to allow them to do whatever they wanted, including the travel that Peter loved. Peter had traded his freedom and basic happiness for money and the temporary pleasure it brought him. In turn, he had to bow to Prissy.

Peter had known Rachael and her magic fairy dust for many years. Somehow, they had never quite connected. This time, Rachael could help Peter regain his youth and vitality and they rediscovered the love they had once known and had even almost once acted on. That magic wand was powerful. Peter and Rachael reconnected in a way neither ever knew was possible through the magic wand and fairy dust. They fell deeply in love.

Despite the love between them, sometimes love is not enough. They had to come back down to earth and Peter realized that Rachael did not have the financial resources that Prissy did. Their combined money would not have taken them as far. When Prissy found out about the relationship between Peter and Rachael, she threatened to take it all away from Peter. He bowed to the pressure, thinking he valued money and travel more than he valued love. Even Rachael’s magic fairy dust, magic wand, magnet, smiling face, and other tools of the magic trade could not compete with the almighty dollar.

A tragedy did indeed occur. Peter went back to Prissy and cut off all contact with Rachael. Rachael’s heart was broken as were her magic powers. The fairy dust would never be used again. The magic wand and magnet were dumped in an old chest in the attic. Rachael went back to her life, alone, as she couldn’t love anyone but Peter. Peter had promised her, the last night they were together, that he would always be in her life. He was gone. Her love was gone. #blogpropellant #amwriting #amblogging #writing #fantasy #NecessaryFic #shortstorymag #shortfiction8

 

Posted in Fantasy and Magic, Fiction

The Play: The Power of Magic, Part 1

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

The Play: The Power of Magic, Part 2

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“The committee has chosen the script for us,” Jose says to April, the other director in the theatre department of the university.

Their department has been charged with putting on a play starring two characters and a committee has been sorting through scripts trying to choose the right one.

“It’s a fantasy come-to-life with a little magic,” Josh says. Let me tell you about the script. It’s a one-act play.

Peter is a middle-aged man who is feeling old. He’s happy in his life and has some fun but not always the fun he likes to have. He doesn’t smile much. Rachael is a middle-aged woman who has never felt old. She smiles all the time and has a secret. She believes in magic. Especially when it comes to Peter, who she has always loved. Peter is drawn to her as by a magnet because she helps him feel not so old anymore. He doesn’t know about her magic wand that sprinkles fairy dust along his path to help him.

Peter has had some health issues that have made him feel old to the point of using a cane and being a wise one. He feels the clock is ticking on his life.

Rachael examines Peter and his life with her magic magnifing glass. She sees a man who has lost some of his self-confidence, his quick smile, and the twinkle in his eyes. He’s become convinced he needs someone to lean on.as the clock ticks down on his life. Rachael doesn’t believe any of that.

With her smiling face, magic wand and fairy dust, and magnet, she gives Peter back his youth, but only for a little while.

A tragedy befalls Peter and Rachael. Rachael learns of the tragedy through a letter. Fantasies always come to an end even though Peter and Rachael planned for this one to last a lifetime. Rachael’s love for Peter will never come to an end. #blogpropellant #amwriting #amblogging #writing #fantasy #NecessaryFic #shortstorymag #shortfiction8

Cubing the Stories #13

 

 

Posted in Fiction

The Sound of Silence

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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The Story of Hannah, Introduction

Hannah hears the television blaring in her living room. It seems to reverberate in her head and the words don’t even register. She craves silence. Not all the time. But can’t she convince her husband that silence first thing in the morning is necessary for her mental health? Who wants to hear the talking heads on cable television at 6 a.m.? Fortunately for Hannah, her husband usually sleeps late and she gets up fairly early. It’s been this way since they retired. She can usually, but not always, grab a couple of hours of precious silence before he gets out of bed and she treasures that time. This morning is not one of those mornings and she feels like she is going to scream. To make it worse, her husband is becoming hard of hearing and the television volume seems to be increasing as the days pass.

When Hannah built her home, they were not married. She built it thinking she would be living in it alone. It isn’t built to give her a room where she can be shut off from the noise of the television in the living room. There is no escaping it. The only possible escape is the sunroom and it is not in shape to be used right now. It’s currently used for storage though Hannah wants to change that and use it for a retreat. It needs a better heating and cooling system. Other than that, it is a room that could be closed off from the rest of the house and she could have her quiet space. Working on the sunroom is Hannah’s goal. Actually, Hannah’s goal is to live with at least a modicum of silence.

Actually, Hannah objects to only the television. She loves her music. All kinds of music. IF she lived alone, her music would like play in her home most of the time. Classic rock and roll. Classical music. Jazz. She would love to install an intercom system to pipe it through the house. There is no use to do that now. Even though her husband does like some music, their musical tastes are different and when he is at home and indoors, he only wants to hear and see the television. Not music. Hannah wonders why his wishes seem to be the only thing that matters. She has been wondering this for awhile now.

The worst offenders on television are the cable news shows. Hannah’s opinion of their news coverage is low. Her husband watches one and then another all day on the days he stays inside the house. Hannah feels the news coverage is biased. She prefers to get her news coverage from other sources and read it when she is ready to do so. She doesn’t like to be bombarded with what the talking heads have to say the first thing in the morning all the way to the last thing in the evening. Hannah subscribes to and reads several newspapers a day. A state-wide paper. The Wall Street Journal to keep up on the financial world. The New York Times as she enjoys the columnists. She gets the paper copies of those newspapers. Hannah also likes to get different news perspectives and reads the BBC news and other international news sources like the Financial Times. She can form her own opinions without the assistance of newscasters who know no more than she does. It’s very difficult for Hannah to read her news and digest it with the television in the background.

The constant presence of television in Hannah’s household is a bone of contention between she and her husband. Although Hannah does not like to push her opinion on her husband, she feels strongly that having the presence of these talking heads on news programs in our lives is one thing that is wrong with our country and our society. If a person is susceptible, it is almost brainwashing. Then there is her need for silence.

In the short run, Hannah supposes she can have her sunroom renovated to her liking and retreat to it to escape the assault on her ears. The long run is another question entirely. The television is not the only source of incompatibility between she and her husband. Hannah has a lot of thinking to do and decisions to make.

 

 

Posted in Fiction, romance

The Lost Romance

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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“This doesn’t feel wrong,” Rebecca said, as she and Patrick were saying their goodbyes before going to the airport. “We’ve waited so long to be together and it feels so natural. How could it possibly be wrong?’

Patrick smiled his soft, gentle smile at her. “Sweetie, from other people’s perspective, you know our relationship would be considered wrong. They wouldn’t understand. From a moral perspective, I guess it is wrong, but it certainly doesn’t feel wrong to me.”

“Nothing in my life has ever felt more right,” says Rebecca, as they hug and gently kiss. “How could this wonderful thing between us ever be considered a vice?’ Patrick just smiled and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the taxi.

Patrick had to fly to New York City to attend his daughter’s piano concert at Carnegie Hall. She was a classical pianist on a meteoric rise to fame. Patrick was meeting his wife and younger daughter there. Rebecca, a published author, was flying home to her small town in central Virginia where she lived with her husband and dog. She still worked as a writer. She and Patrick had been able to manage an interlude together in beautiful Charleston, South Carolina. A longer interlude than usual but it was never long enough for them, especially not for Rebecca.

As Rebecca climbs in the taxi that will take them to the airport, she looks at Patrick and thinks back. She had been in love with Patrick for a large part of her adult life. She had fallen in love with him a few years after she had married her husband, unfortunately. Patrick had also fallen in love with Rebecca and he was also married. It was just one of those things. Almost a love at first sight thing. Rebecca was not yet a writer and was hired at Patrick’s place of employment — a large bank in Atlanta, Georgia. He was a junior bank executive. She was a little younger and an even more junior bank executive. There was an instant attraction between the dark, handsome man and the blonde girl.

Rebecca smiles at Patrick as they race toward the airport and remembers how they resisted their attraction, though briefly, all those years ago. Finally, they gave in as they enjoyed being together so very much. The enjoyment they found in each other’s company gradually led to sexual attraction and their relationship blossomed into a full blown affair. Rebecca finds it hard to believe that was 35 years ago. She and Patrick have marveled at how they have found each other again after all this time. They have giggled about their ages now and then.

Patrick has been divorced and remarried since that time. Rebecca has been married to the same man. Both are content in their marriages in their own way but something has always been missing from their relationships and they have concluded that it is that mysterious something they have only with each other. That something neither can quite put their finger on but something they both need to be happy.

Almost to the airport now. The moment when they leave each other that they both dread. The two start chatting about what each will be doing during their trips to their destinations and after they arrive. Effectively just making small talk in order to avoid saying the important things they both want to say but think unwise under the circumstances.

Rebecca starts feeling like she always does when she leaves Patrick. Like she is about to lose a part of herself. She has so enjoyed the past few days. Curling up in his arms to sleep at night. Sitting across the table from him at breakfast. Having an intellectual conversation with him. Much more personal things that she can’t stand to consider right now.

Patrick turns to her and breaks her reverie. “Almost there,” he says. Rebecca can’t speak for fear of crying. The taxi pulls up to the taxi stand and they get out to retrieve their luggage. As they kiss and say goodbye, they promise to talk to each other soon. They are about to rush to different terminals. Rebecca grabs Patrick’s face and is able to choke out one sentence. “You are my love,” she says to him. “I miss you already,” he responds.

She turns to grab her luggage. When she turns back, Patrick is gone.

Something shrill is sounding in Rebecca’s ear. Suddenly, she wakes with a start and feels for the alarm clock. Shutting it off, she turns over to her back in her bed, pulling the covers tight up under her chin.

As tears stream down her face, Rebecca relives the dream she just had, the dream she always has, where Patrick vanished at the airport. The dream is always the same. She and Patrick, the man she has loved most of her life, reconnect for a brief time two years ago. They spend some wonderful interludes together that summer that seems so long ago now. It was 35 years after they had first met and fallen in love – and lost each other. After their last, and most wonderful time together, they go to the airport to fly off to their respective lives and, Patrick vanishes. That is always when Rebecca wakes, just like this morning. She has this dream night after night, rarely skipping a night.

The dream is so disturbing to Rebecca because it is an almost exact accounting of the truth except that day at the airport, Patrick didn’t vanish. He just caught his plane. In reality, they still had some time after that, but their time was short and Rebecca remembers every second of it. Even two years later. But, when the end to their time came, it was quick and brutal and Rebecca has never recovered. At her age, she knows she probably never will. After all, how can she stop loving a man she’s always loved when the end was not his fault?

Patrick was caught up in a situation that Rebecca did not really understand. However, not only had she given Patrick her heart, she had also given him her trust. Rebecca was notified that Patrick could not see her anymore back then two years ago. Then, Patrick notified her in a brief message that clearly did not sound like him. Rebecca did not question him or the situation. She trusted Patrick. She knew he thought he was doing the right thing. Rebecca, of course, wishes Patrick could have made a different decision.

Rebecca jumps out of bed and races to her bathroom to splash cold water on her face, to try to get rid of the demons in her head. The ghosts that plague her almost every morning. The questions. The desires. She slowly walks to the kitchen to get her morning coffee, remembering all the way all the mornings she and Patrick had talked all morning while they drank their coffee. She still hopes, every morning, that he will be on the phone or on the other side of the computer screen. He never is. She hopes someday those hopes will be gone but she doubts she will be that lucky or free ever again. Too much passed between them during that summer. Too much to forget.

Mostly, she wonders and worries about Patrick. They no longer have any mutual friends left. There is no way to get news of him, to find out how he is, to see if he is still in the situation in which he found himself. She wonders if he is even still alive, still reasonably well. Once a week, Rebecca faithfully searches the obituaries, just in case. Every few days, Rebecca also searches social media for Patrick but he long ago disappeared from that social scene. Still, she searches. Not because she would contact him. She wouldn’t. Just because she wants news of him, to know he is well and happy.

Happy. That word almost makes Rebecca laugh. Could Patrick possibly be happy? He was always basically a happy guy. She was surely not happy without him. How can you be happy without your love? The last thing they said to each other on that fateful last day was that they were each other’s loves. She hopes he found a way to be happy. Just as much, she wishes she could hear his voice, just one more time.

Rebecca knows that won’t happen. She won’t hear from Patrick again. He did what he had to do, probably to protect her. She has always had the hope that he would do what he said he might one day. He said that one day she might get a phone call and it would be him saying, “Rebecca, I need you.” That has never happened. Patrick has no way to know that she and her husband have been divorced for over a year now and there is nothing to protect her from.

“I have to get these ghosts out of my head today,” Rebecca says to herself. She jumps up, goes to her bedroom and puts on her clothes, and grabs her dog’s leash. She and her little dog start their morning walk up the road. No one, including Rebecca, can see the ghosts following close behind. She will never be completely free of them again and deep in her heart she knows this.

Rebecca goes about her days, sees her friends, and does some work. Her days don’t vary much. She doesn’t travel very much. Travel reminds her of Patrick as they traveled the world together off and on over the years. Over 1000 miles away, Patrick sits in his house, pretends to be happy, and quietly goes about the business of drinking himself to death. #amwriting #amblogging #writing #romance

Random Number 35

Time = 35 minutes
TBP’s On-Line Writer’s Guide #31

Excerpt from the upcoming novel The Lost Romance

Please see the excerpt from The Lose Romance – The Affair

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

The Diamond

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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The exotic-looking man stood at the jewelry counter waiting on the diamond expert. The expert was appraising the frightfully large diamond. He had just sent word that it was over six carats. It was multi-faceted and seemed faintly pink. What the expert didn’t know is that it was millenia-old and priceless.

The exotic-looking man was getting restless. He had been there, in public, for a long time. He needed to get back to his friends and his home. He needed to sell this diamond for the children in the Old Country.

The expert appeared and gave him price at which they could try to sell the diamond to their high rollers in the gem world. He offered to showcase it for the man and he placed it in the window of the shop. Rays of the sun hit it and it glowed. The man shrank back into the corner.

THe transaction was complete. The exotic-looking man walked out the door and vanished into thin air. #FfFAW #amwriting #amblogging #writing #flashfiction

*Photo courtesy of Jade Wong

*FfFAW courtesy of Priceless Joy

Good books!:

Discovery of Witches – All Souls Trilogy

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized

Looking Back, Part 3

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

Looking Back, Part 1

Looking Back, Part 2

Now, Looking Back, Part 3

Serena gets up, wearily, from her table and dries her tears. She rinses out her cup and looks out on the landscape she has held so dear for these past years. She came here to find peace and she did but only for awhile. She knows it’s time to leave her home. She doesn’t have much of importance to leave behind. In some ways, she has always traveled light. She has one child, Kenneth, but he and his family live away and she can contact him later. She has some cousins left. She doesn’t think any but a few will miss her and she will let them know. She has some good friends who she will call. They will keep her confidence. Serena has made her decision. Now to act on it before the man comes back.

What do you take with you when you are never coming back? Serena will, of course, take Maggie, her small dog. She goes about making room in her car for Maggie, first and foremost. What she takes now depends on the room she has left. She will need some of her clothes so she quickly sorts some summer and some winter clothes into two small suitcases. Her good jewelry is precious to her and she might have to sell it so it also goes into her car. She pulls several of her grandmother’s old quilts out of the closet along with one set of good sheets. Either she or Maggie or both can use those. That’s it for the bedrooms.

Her computers go with her. She will have to depend on establishments with free WiFi. A few canvases and her paints and there is only one more thing to take out of her storage. Her family pictures. She struggles with the boxes and dumps them all into one box. Out of her bathroom, she stuffs the bare necessities into one of her suitcases. Her makeup, some hair products, and all of her medicines.

In the living room, she stops in front of the fireplace and looks around her as she tries to calm her dog. Maggie is sensing change and is getting agitated. Almost everything in Serena’s house has meaning to her. Her legs start to shake and for a brief moment, she doesn’t think she can do this. Doesn’t think she can leave it all behind. What is the alternative? In order to continue on in this life, she would have to sell her soul. That would be the price of peace. She knows that price is too high. She knows that superficial “things” cannot buy her happiness. She knows she cannot live with herself if she makes that bargain with the devil.

Serena walks into her kitchen, grabs Maggie’s dog food, bowl, and medicine, and a few bottles of water for herself. She carries everything, except Maggie, to the car and begins to pack it.

Within a few minutes, the car is packed and Serena picks up Maggie and settles her in the car. She lays her cell phone on the seat beside her so she will have use of the GPS.

Serena has been thinking of this plan of action for days now. She went to the bank earlier in the day and cleaned out the accounts. She is leaving the man the house and everything else. At least the money will help keep gas in her car for awhile and food in Maggie’s belly. She will arrange for the income she gets to make its way to her when she decides where to stop. She hurriedly gets in her car, tears streaming down her face, and pulls out of the drive. She stops briefly, looking back, remembering the peace she once found here.

As Serena drives away, amid the devastation she feels is a tiny glimmer of hope. She doesn’t know if she is going north, south, east, or west. But, she thinks maybe something good awaits her at the end of her long road away from what was once home.

 

 

 

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing

Looking Back, Part 2

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

Here is a recap of Looking Back, Part 1

Now, Looking Back, Part 2

As Serena sat at her table and cried, she realized she had been through this before. This man had been her husband for 20 years and they had divorced. Then, she had remarried him after 16 years without him and this had caused her to jeopardize everything she had and would have. Once she had looked up marriage statistics and found that with individuals who marry the same partner twice, only two percent have successful marriages. Serena suddenly feels like a statistic after she remembers reading that. She had spent 20 years learning how incompatible they were.

Serena and her husband have now been married five years, second time around. The first year was nice. The man kept the promises he had made to her before they married. Beginning in the second year, all those promises fell to the wayside and the marriage had gotten increasing bad. Now they weren’t even sleeping together and the house was quiet. They didn’t talk. They didn’t communicate at all, which was one of the promises.

She finds herself thinking back five years ago when she talked to the man again after being apart from him for 16 years. He was down on his luck. He was working a fairly blue color job but only part time. He told her that he didn’t want to work full-time ever again. He didn’t make any money to save any money, but that wasn’t the biggest problem he had. He was a heavy drinker and a gambler. He had gambled away most of his retirement portfolio, second-mortgaged the house several times to get cash, and a variety of other issues. He started coming to Serena’s house and she could not turn him away. He was trying to quit drinking and gambling.

Oh, she feels so angry when she thinks of all this! Promising her that he would quit his bad behavior, playing on her sympathies, is what got her into this mess. She remarried him to help him and, to be truthful, because she was lonely and didn’t trust anyone. It was the worst mistake she had ever made. He promised her things would be different than in their first marriage. Things aren’t different at all. In fact, they are worse.

Serena is a gifted painter. She has found her muse again and wants to capture her thoughts and feelings on canvas. The constant uproar in her household and in her head and heart is killing her creativity. She goes to her studio to paint and even though the knows exactly what she wants to do, it isn’t happening at the end of her brush. Anything she painted would be angry. As angry at herself for making such a stupid mistake as angry at him.

He doesn’t want her to paint again. He doesn’t want her to do anything but tend to him. He’s jealous. Jealous of even her painting. Certainly jealous of her friends and family. How can someone be jealous of even inanimate objects like a canvas that stands before her? Maybe she should just let those angry feelings pour our onto that canvas, but she hates for her cherished painting to be dark and angry.

Serena calls the man her soon-to-be ex-husband because that is what he should be. In reality, no divorce action has yet been filed. He was so vicious when they divorced the first time. It frightens her that the same thing will happen this time. The first divorce almost destroyed her. She isn’t as strong now. What will a second divorce do to her? How can she have let herself get to this place? Where does she go from here?

She knows she has to go somewhere from here. Somewhere different. She has to take some action to save herself. But what? That’s what she has to figure out. She doesn’t feel she has much time left. #amwriting #blogging #writing #shortfiction #fiction #dailyprompt

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized

Looking Back

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

Serena was shaking all over. She had just had another encounter with her soon-to-be ex-husband and it wasn’t pleasant. Of course, it never was. She sat at her kitchen table, trying to calm herself. It wasn’t working very well. He had burst into her home, his intent to take her jewelry. Serena had inherited the jewelry from a family member. It was not his. But, in a divorce, everything was up for grabs. She managed to keep him from taking it.

She made herself a cup of tea and went back to the table, hoping the effects of the calming tea would help her. As she sipped her tea, her thoughts slipped back to her youth. They married when they were both 19 years old. She had thought she was so wise and he was just what she wanted. He was kind and she was not used to kind. She had a steady boyfriend in high school and a couple of other brief relationships but those men did not fit the description of “kind.” When he was kind to her, she fell hard for him, even though there were so many other factors she should have considered. She considered none. She was too young and too inexperienced. No one had ever taught her what to look for in a potential husband.

Much too late, Serena’s parents tried to talk her out of the marriage but all she could think of was that he was kind. Things were peaceful between them and Serena was not used to a peaceful environment. She had grown up in a chaotic home. Kind and peaceful drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Of course, Serena could not know that he would become less than kind as they grew older because of other characteristics he had. Nor could she know that their environment would become as chaotic as the one she grew up in because of those same characteristics. We tend to seek youth all of our lives. But when we are young, we don’t have enough wisdom to always make good decisions.

Perhaps Serena could have seen the future if she had listened to her parents. They tried to tell her that their backgrounds were too different, their education differences too wide, their attitudes toward work too diverse. But, Serena, being a young, romantic girl, thought of nothing but what she defined as love. So they married.

As Serena sits at her kitchen table, musing about the state of her relationship with this man, it is 41 years later. Her parents are, of course, gone now. If they were still here, she can hear them saying, “I told you so.” As soft tears run down her face, she wonders what to do next. #fiction #shortfiction #dailyprompt