Friday Fictioneers 1-17-2018

PHOTO PROMPT © Victor and Sarah Potter


 

“I’ve never seen a white spider before, Danny said, leaning forward to peer at the web stretched frame to frame in the window.

“Maybe it’s an albino.”

“Are there albino spiders?”

Susan shrugged. “Why not?”

Danny leaned closer, almost touching the web, but something stopped him. Probably the spider wouldn’t like him fiddling with his home.

“So what should we do?”

“Leave’em.”

“Your Mom will freak.”

Danny laughed. “Yeah.”

The two turned away, heading back towards their growing Lego kingdom. Neither noticed the spider leap from its web to the back of Danny’s collar.

He never felt the bite.

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Response 12-25-2017 JSW Prompt 1-1-2018

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 words (But if not, that’s cool, too). If you reply, I will re-blog your post to my site (sometimes I am slow, but I get there).
xmaswrpr

She stopped on the edge of the tree, staring warily into the cleaning, eyes immediately drawn to the brightly wrapped package under the single tree in the center. The tree was a Horse Chestnut, a sacred tree, but what could be in the box below? Had the gods left some present, some magical item, for her to discover.

No, not likely. In fact, hardly possible at all. None of the Gods she knew liked her near enough for gift-leaving. So what?

She could just pass on by and not look back, but she was too curious for her own good. She was going to look. She knew she was and darn the consequences. What was that book she been force to read in Grammar school? A Good Day to Die?

No. This was not a good day to die. It was so not a good day to die that she considered just moving on, but again, that wasn’t going to happen in her lifetime.

Which, she realized, might be growing shorter all the time.

Stepping into the clearing, she moved forward warily, eyes scanning the clearing and then the woods around. If she didn’t make it home tonight, would they miss her?

Of course they would, silly, but she discarded that thought. Much better to think she was alone in the world, making her own way in a violent time. How else to become a hero? For it was a hero she wanted to be more than anything else in the world.

To survive and over-come some terribly dangerous quest and return to those who had cast her out. Bravely willing to sacrifice her life for theirs regardless of their action. By this time in her narrative, she had reached the tree and thus the box.

It was, as she had observed before, wrapped in brightly colored paper covered with red and blue balloons and cupcakes. The cupcakes were vanilla and chocolate, however, not red and blue like the balloons.

And on the top lay a tag which said, ‘To Nay-na.”

Eagerly, she tore off the papers to find anther wrapped box, then another and another.

A puzzle to help her on her way.

At last, she reached the smallest box, about the size of a football. Ripping off the paper and tearing out the tissue-paper inside, she pulled out a….

Tiara.

A cheap, Halloween-store, tiara, sparkling with paste gems.

The clearing around echoed with the sounds of voices shouting, people pouring out of the forest and rushing towards her.

“Happy Birthday!” yelled her family and friends, swarming around with hugs and kisses. Her brother set the tiara onto her head

“You’ll need a few bobbies to hold it on, but this should do for the time.”

“Cake, cake,” everybody shouted as she, her friends and cousins and siblings raced towards the warmly lit house, smells of pizza and birthday cake permeating the air.

Perfect, she thought as she ran. The perfect ending for a perfect story!

Hero for the day!

Christmas Time is Here! 12-22-2017

Image result for christmas horse images

Day Two of Christmas Horse pictures!

Have you ever been walking along the road, seen a path heading into the forest, and wanted – just for heck of it – to follow, thinking it might lead somewhere rare and magical. I do. In fact, I was doing so yesterday during my at-work-walk. I wondered what it would be like to just step into the woods and disappear.

No, worries. I am not going to disappear. I’m not brave enough for one thing, but the desire is there, singing in my heart, calling me to step off the safe road and onto, and into, the unknown. Why do I think that if I just follow any of these paths, I might just have found my wardrobe?

Do you ever feel this?

We all long for the rare and magical, especially when our lives seem so dull and dreary, so bogged down in petty details and endless duties. Who hasn’t wanted to step into another world to find the adventures missing in their ordinary lives. Maybe you want to step into a bodice-ripping romance, a fantasy quest, or exploration deep into outer space.

These urges, these dreams, are what life is about. We dream to achieve.

So what am I dreaming into my life? I hope financial security and love and (mostly) free time, but is hope enough? Hoping is wishing. Wishing is what we do when we are afraid to dream, afraid to take the chance of asking for what we want.

I can long to step off the road into the unknown for the rest of my life without ever managing a single step. It is all up to me. To dreaming instead of wishing, hoping and pretending we don’t want what we want.

How does this relate to yesterday’s Christmas Tree dilemma?

I was saying I asked my adult kids to put up the artificial tree and it is still not up. Also, that I was refusing to do it… well…. because.

The absolute, embarrassing, truth is, I refuse to set up the tree because then I can say how horrible it is that my kids wouldn’t even set up the tree.  Does that make sense?

Like I’m testing them, waiting for them to pass or fail and, if they fail, I can say ‘well it wasn’t my job.’

There is something screwed up about my logic, but I realized I have always been this way. Leaving myself an out, just in case. So I can be the one wronged.

I hate this about myself, but it is true.

So what am I dreaming for my life here?

Nothing. I am not dreaming anything. I am wishing for what I want but afraid to ask, afraid to open up in case I am hurt or disappointed. I am afraid to take full control of my life because then there will be no one else to blame if the tree isn’t up. Or the present wrapped. Or the trash out. Dishes washed.

I am doing a disservice to myself and to my kids.

So maybe instead, I disappear into the woods and land up in Narnia. Or Middle-Earth.

Probably not. And, you know what, in those places I’d still have to do dishes and put up the Christmas Tree and take out the trash. It wouldn’t be a different life, just a different place.

But that doesn’t mean, just for an instant, I’m not tempted to see….

 

 

 

Friday Fictioneers 8-18-2017

If she hadn’t been able to see past the door, she might have imagined there another world in there. A deep forest or an endless horizon of sand. Might have imagined a dark knight on a white horse, a cackling witch or a castle looming in the distance.

She could, however, see beyond to the shower curtain and her purple poof. Just her boring bathroom. Her boring life.

A thump sounded in the bathroom.

She stilled.

Another.

“Hello?”

No reply.

Took two steps.

“Hello?”

Thump.

Two more steps.

A peek inside.

Darkness.

The scent of wet leaves…….

 

Sunday Photo Fiction 8-16-2017

208 08 August 13th 2017

 

“Wow! Look at that!” Arny exclaimed, pointing at the painting on the wall.

“A phone booth. English.”

“No, I meant Dr. Who.”

“Who?” Mike asked. “What’s a Doctor have to do with it?”

“Dr. Who!”

“It’s a police call box. 1928ish. Had nothing to do with any Doctor.”

“NO! Dr. Who! The British show!”

“Right. A British Call Box. I don’t think they have them any more. No need really,” Mike shrugged. “Phones and all.”

Arny rolled his eyes. “It’s Tardis, Dr Who’s time machine.”

“The police used them. Not Doctors.”

“For crying out loud!” Arny cried. “Dr. Who. A British TV show! He travels through space and time in a call box named Tardis.”

Mike sighed, shook his head. “You and your funny imagination.”

Arny threw up his hands. “Hopeless!”  He walked away.

“Hey,” Mike called, hurrying after him. “Speaking of TV shows….. did you hear about that sci-fi show where some weird Timelord roams the Universe?”

Arny stopped, turned slowly.  “No,” he said flatly, “never heard of that one.”

Paused. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”