From my upcoming novel:
“I have to talk to Daddy about changing the terms of the pre-nuptial agreement with Miles so I can get out of this terrible marriage,” thought Wendy, as she drove to meet Barb, her long-time lover.
Tag: #writingchallenge
The Goblin
Swedish Lapland had never been a duchy and had never had their own royal family until Prince David came to the castle there and brought beautiful Princess Signe. There was a celebration when they arrived in Lapland with the citizens coming from far and wide to welcome their monarchs. They finally felt a part of Sweden.
Princess Signe had been trained in music and could play many musical instruments. She particularly enjoyed playing the harp. Often in the summer evenings, Prince David would invite the citizenry to the courtyard to hear the Princess play the harp.
One such evening, Princess Signe was playing and a goblin jumped out of the corner of the castle and atop her harp. She screamed and stood up as the goblin threatened her with a terrible illness. She had been taught how to deal with the creatures of Sweden and pulled out her silver necklace with the silver cross. The goblin screamed and fled.
The beautiful music in the castle continued.
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#SoCS – 6/10/2017 – US Political System
I am tired of our political system in the U.S. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not tired of our democracy. I’m not even tired of capitalism. I support both. I am tired of politicians refusing to admit their real positions on issues and what they have really done. I am tired of lies and deceit in politics that are destroying the U.S. political system.
Although I am a news and information junkie, I’ve started tuning out the news as I listen while I work each day. We have no idea what the truth really is. We can’t even believe politicians as they testify under oath because they have no respect for the oath.
There are two things, and two things only, that give me hope. As I’ve listened to the hearings, I have heard just a few young politicians question witnesses. Not the rich, older, white men we are so accustomed to but some new names and faces. New and young politicians from both sides of the aisle. They have seemed sensible and not yet jaded. Perhaps they are our hope for the future?
My second source of hope is the American people. My own opinion is that we got it wrong during the 2016 election. I think I am backed up by the polls since the President only has an approval rate of around 36%. That leaves a huge percentage of the American people dissatisfied. Perhaps in 2020 one of the fresh young faces will run for office. Even if they don’t agree with my point of view, they will be steeped in the ways of government. Perhaps we can reclaim our position in the world and in NATO. Perhaps the checks and balances of our political system, wisely put in place by our forefathers, will work during the next three and a half years and too much damage will not be done. Maybe one of those fresh young faces can re-establish some sense of political sanity and dignity to the U.S. political system and get Russia out of our affairs forever.
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Tender Betsy
Three nights ago, I woke up, rather groggily, to a loud banging in my bedroom. I thought of my little dog, Betsy, and immediately turned to find her. She was in her steel crate, with the door open, having a seizure. The banging was her little, tender body, stiff and jerking, banging against her crate.
I leaped up and went to her. By then, the seizure was almost over and she was in the latter stages. The paralysis that happens after. Her legs were stiff and her head and neck were stuck backward. She stayed like that for ten or fifteen minutes before she could move again. This was her second seizure that I know about.
She slowly got up and left her crate, wide-eyed and shaky. She kept coming to me, looking at me as if to ask me what happened. I had no answers. I just cuddled her. The next stage was the pacing. She paced through the house, wide-eyed and frightened for an hour or two. After that, she collapsed on the couch. She didn’t move for maybe eight hours.
Betsy is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. A breed of dog that is docile, sweet, and tender. To watch her go through something like a grand mal seizure was a horrible thing. It took two and a half days for Betsy to be Betsy again.
There is an innocence and trust in all dogs. We can’t explain to them what happens to them when it happens and we don’t know how much they understand. As their companions, all we can do is get them good medical care and love them unconditionally. We have to show that love to them, cuddle them, make them feel safe. If a person is a good person, dogs bring out the best in us.
Dogs love us no matter what we do. Deserve their love.
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Continuity
“It was Momma’s summer house,” Miranda said to the real estate agent, “Don’t you think a buyer would love it out here?” Miranda continued.
“No,” the realtor responded, “I know it’s your family home, but the demographic who might buy it work all the time and wouldn’t be interested.”
Dejected, Miranda walked in the house with the realtor. His phone rang. He turned to Miranda and asked if he could show the house in just a few minutes.
A young woman and her husband bought it on the spot. She was a gardner and loved the summer house.
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One-Liner Wednesday
A quote from my upcoming novel:
“Wendy always dresses so old for her age,” thought Miles, “even when we are meeting friends for drinks and dinner.”
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Chasing the Killer
“We have sightings of him in Red River Gorge, Captain,” Rain said. She was a patrol officer on the Lexington Police Force.
“Get a team together and get out there. Find out where in the Gorge,” the Captain responded. “You need the dogs.”
Red River Gorge is a huge wilderness area near Lexington, Kentucky. Leroy Michaels, a convicted murderer, had escaped from jail. They had reason to believe he was trying to hide by losing himself in the Gorge. His wife, who he had tried to kill, lived near by. The police had items of his clothing to give to the dogs.
The police team and the canine team all met at Slade, an entry point to the Gorge. They gave the clothing to the dogs and they got the scent. Everyone started out following the dogs who headed into one of the mosts rugged parts of the Gorge.
They heard a scream and saw a flash of orange. Leroy Michaels had fallen 60 feet from one of the many ledges in the Gorge.
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The Rainy Day
She had spent little time at the ocean in her life. Now she had the chance to spend some time at the water. Any ocean, all oceans, renewed her. More than renewed her, sustained her. Today it was raining, the beginning of monsoon season. There had been a terrible drought all winter. They were all glad to see the rains come, as long as the wind didn’t follow. She started to stay home, to spend the day writing. She wanted to see the bay in the rain.
She grabbed her poncho and jumped in the car. The pier was about 12 miles away. That was the best place to see the bay. When she pulled up to the pier, no one was there but her. The rain was softly falling. She walked out almost to the gates beyond which only the fishermen went and sat down on the edge. The water was almost perfectly clear. The rain beat on the surface of the water.
She could clearly see the schools of fish. Most of them she still couldn’t identify. She knew the sheepshead. She saw a school of snook. One of her goals for the winter was to learn more about the fish in the area. That area under the pier was shallow. There was a great flapping of wings and a swoosh behind her. One of the large white egrets had landed on the pier and a great blue heron was a couple of dozen feet away.
The sky was as gray as granite and the bay was just barely whitecapping as she looked on out. Her heart rate slowed and the tightness in her chest loosened. She was at peace.
An hour or so later, she started for home, feeling better. She was always so tense until she saw the ocean. She hoped she could capture her feelings on paper. When she got home, she sat down with a steaming cup of tea and started to write. She had been trying to write a scene before she left, but it had escaped her. Now it flowed easily from her fingertips. The ocean never failed her.
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#SoCS – 06/03/2017
Donald Trump, Weather, Climate
It seems coincidental to me, Linda, that today’s #SoCS prompt is weather. Why? Two reasons. This week, our President decided to withdraw the U.S. from the Paris Climate Agreement. The second reason is that hurricane season in the U.S. started June 1, 2017 and runs through November 30, 2017. Mr. Trump has appointed no new director of either FEMA or NOAA, the two agencies that deal with disasters such as hurricanes and that forecast and track hurricanes. Perhaps this is an oversight. The people that a hurricane will affect who live on the Atlantic Seaboard, the Gulf Coast, and every part of Florida will suffer due to such an oversight.
The Paris Climate Agreement. Mr. Trump apparently does not understand the Paris Climate Agreement. If he does understand it, then his withdrawal of the U.S. from it is particularly hateful. He seems to think that polluting the environment of the U.S. will lead to job creation when all it will lead to is more pollution and the continued killing of our planet. The U.S. is well on its way to reducing the use of fossil fuels, like coal, and reducing the greenhouse gases we emit. Mr. Trump is trying to set us back 50 years. Instead of supporting the efforts to develop wind farms and solar farms, for example, he wants to go back to mining coal. Coal miners can and would be trained to work in the clean energy industries. One such industry has already relocated to an area where coal was previously mined. Many of our 50 states vehemently disagree with him and are going to follow the Paris agreement on their own. Many large corporations are going to do the same.
Why is all this happening? Mr. Trump is feeling desperate. With low ratings, he is trying to do something that, during the campaign, he told his base he would do. He told them he would drop environmental regulations in the name of job creation so that’s what he is doing. He has found government too complicated to do much of anything else. So he is pursuing his nationalist agenda by turning his back on the environment. It particularly pleased him because he could turn his back on Europe at the same time since he desires to be an isolationist. In just the short time Mr. Trump has been President, we have lost our position as leader of the free world and either China or a European country will assume that position.
Whether or not our President can or will pursue an agenda that appeals to more than 38 percent of the American people is still a mystery. From what we’ve seen so far, his priorities lie somewhere besides where the priorities of the majority of the American people lie.
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Peace in the Country
She couldn’t wait to get dressed and go for her run. She didn’t run in the city where she lived. She ran in the country. Her run every day kept her emotionally healthy. She needed it now more than ever.
It was a short drive and in 15 minutes, she was there. She parked her car and ran to the dirt road that was her track. It felt so good to be here. The road was two and one-half miles, so she ran five miles total.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps near her. She looked around and there was Murphy, her German Shepherd. But, Murphy had died a year ago. It seemed to be a pale copy of him running along beside her. There were footsteps on her right. It was her dad who had died five years ago. It was also a pale copy of him. He smiled at her. She felt great peace.
The three of them kept running. She knew they were there to help her. Her mother had died one week ago. She felt they were there to tell her everything was all right. When they got to the end of the road, they disappeared.
The Write Scribe 