Wednesday, March 14, 2018


This month the prompt consists of the line: "It's okay. You don't have to love me." I wasn't really sure what to do with it, but I finally came up with an idea. It's not very long, but I hope you like it.

     “Then he said, ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to love me.’ My first thought was, you’re damn straight, there, buck wheat.”
     Dana burst out laughing, almost shooting Pepsi out her nose. “You didn’t say that, did you?”
     Her best friend, Gina, rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. I said, ‘That’s good, because I don’t.’”
     “Well, yeah, you’ve only been dating…what? Two weeks?”
     “If that, so I am definitely not in love with him.”
     Dana shook her head. “So, he thinks he’s in love with you?”
     “Hell no,” Gina said, “he just wants in my pants. Because after he delivered his line worthy of a B-grade film he said, ‘Just let me love you.’ Then he grabbed one of my tits.”
     Dana really tried not to laugh, she really did, but just couldn’t help it. Her best friend ended up in the most bizarre situations with the most bizarre men. There’d been the guy who claimed he was an actor, which he wasn’t. He was an usher at the theatre. Another guy said he was an award-winning song writer and told Gina he’d written songs like Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You, but that the singer had stolen it. And, on and on. Dana really couldn’t remember the last normal guy Gina had dated.
     “And then what happened?” Dana couldn’t stop herself from asking.
     “Oh, he dropped his pants and revealed he wasn’t wearing underwear. What he did have was a tattoo that said love machine right above his dick.”
     “You can’t make this shit up.”
     Gina smiled. “Oh, hell no, I don’t have this good of an imagination.”
     “So, what did you do?”
     “I slapped his hand off my tit, grabbed my purse and left. He tried to run after me, but, instead, tripped over his pants and fell out into the main hall of his apartment building. The elderly lady who lives across the hall came out then and screamed since he was naked. I didn’t stay around to find out what happened then.”
     “I’m so sorry, but this stuff only happens to you.”
     “I know and this is why I’m taking a break from dating. Hopefully, if I give it a few months the weirdos will have all found other people and I can find somebody, at least, half way normal.”
     “Okay, that’s not what I expected to hear. You once told me that if you didn’t have a date for the weekend you’d shrivel up and waste away.”
     “Obviously, I’m stupid. And, if I would waste away it’d be preferable to the men I’ve been seeing.”
     Dana shook her head. “That’s just it. You’re not dating men, you’re dating boys. Maybe you need to start looking somewhere other than the bars and clubs for guys to date.”
     Gina smiled. “You’re brilliant. I’ll join an online dating site.”

     Jumping up, she raced out of the room before Dana had a chance to respond. Sitting back in her chair, she knew, without a doubt, there were more weirdos in Gina’s future. With the internet, the pool was going to be wider and deeper. Dana didn’t know whether to be afraid or excited at the prospect of even more entertainment.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018


Welcome to the wordlessness that is Wednesday. This year we get to share whatever pics we want for each wordless post. First, I'm never wordless no matter what and second, it's going to be so hard. I have tons of pics to share. 

I think, though, for March's wordless I'll share pics from my trip to Charlotte. If you've never been, the city is so nice and I love the Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens. I hope you enjoy them.

Bronwyn    Jessica    Siobhan    

Monday, March 5, 2018


This month we are all creating a piece around the picture above. So many thoughts, so many ideas Hopefully, you'll like what I did.

   Shattered glass. The screams of men. The scent of blood and burning rubber. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream. Blood choked him as he attempted to gasp in a breath.
   Gabriel jerked himself awake and frantically searched the room. Dream. It had been a dream. Pain shot through his left knee, it was a dream now. What he dreamed was real or had been real. Fuck, he wasn’t sure anymore. He scrubbed a shaky hand over his sweaty face and tried to slow his breathing.
Eight months. He’d been stateside for eight months. And, for almost every night of those eight months, he had the same dream. The same memory. Roadside IED punching a hole through his transport. Blood, screaming, bodies. He’d been one of the lucky ones. He’d lived. He had all his fingers and toes, if not his sanity.
   Rising, he limped to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He needed to wash away the sweat and the lingering unease the dream always brought on. He braced his hands on the wall and let the hot water pour down over his body. Slowly, his muscles unknotted and, though, he was more relaxed, he knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep.
   He turned the water off and grabbed a towel. The clock on the wall read five-thirty. He didn’t have PT until almost ten and he certainly didn’t want to hang around the apartment. If anyone could call the tiny four hundred square foot space by anything so grand. It was a box, he knew that, but he hadn’t been looking for much. All he’d been focused on was finding a place to sleep and store some of his stuff. That was it.
   His cousin, Callan, had offered to let him crash at his place, but there was no way. The man’s bed was a revolving door and Gabriel didn’t want to stay in someplace he didn’t feel was secure. So, he’d taken the first place he looked at. It wasn’t much, but it certainly beat most of his past accommodations.
   After he dressed, he grabbed up his laptop bag and slowly made his way out of the building. Turning right, he moved down the sidewalk. He was aware of everything and everyone around him as he made his way to the coffee bar that was becoming his second home. The place opened at six and, more often than not, Gabriel was in his regular seat with a drink by six-ten.
   He stepped in the door and paused to quickly survey the space. The only person in the entire space, was the lady behind the counter. She looked up and smiled at him.
   “Good morning,” she called.
   “Morning.” He stepped up to the counter.
   “So, what can I get you this morning? Are you sticking with what you normally order or are you going to branch out?”
   “I’ll stick with the regular.”
   She poured plain black coffee into a cup and handed it to him. He paid her and moved to the table he always occupied. It was situated in the corner with a wide-open view of the entire place. He pulled out his laptop and booted it up. While he waited, he sipped from his cup. He didn’t know what she did, but her coffee was damn good. That’s why he came every day, well that and the fact that, he didn’t make her nervous.
   He knew he made people nervous, between his size and the fact that he wasn’t much of a people person, okay, he wasn’t a people person period. He’d had his fill of people so didn’t feel the need to socialize. Claire, though, didn’t seem to mind. He knew that was her name since she owned the coffee bar and the place was called Coffee by Claire.
   So different. His life was nothing as it had been. Wouldn’t be again. And IED and shattered glass made sure of that. Gabriel glanced up as Claire slid a warm cinnamon muffin on his table.
   “I didn’t order this.”
   “I know,” she said, with a smile. “I figured my most loyal customer deserved a muffin.”

   She moved away, her long tail of blonde hair a stream down her back. He picked up the muffin and bit into cinnamon, butter, and warmth. His life may be totally different than what he’d planned, but he’d take it and figure it out. It certainly beat the alternative.

Bronwyn   Jessica    Kris