Have A Minute to Read A Very Short Story?

You may already know that I am part of a group called The Iron Writers.

Every week there are four or five authors competing in a challenge. The stories can be no longer than 500 words and must contain four specific elements.

This week the elements are:

            This image:

            A Howdah

            A Floor Buffer

            It must be told from the point of view of an alien who views humans as both food and pets.



The title of my story this week is Holiday.

So, if you have a minute, please click here and read the stories. Vote for your favorite (even if it isn't mine, of course).

I appreciate you visiting the website and voting.

If you want to become one of The Iron Writers just let me know or go to the Facebook page and request to join the group. It is a great bunch of people and loads of fun.

Thank you!

Winning With Sweet Season

My short story won in the Iron Writer Challenge!

The Iron Writer is a group I am in where there are weekly flash fiction challenges. Five writers are given four elements to include in a story that can be no longer than 525 words. They must complete the story within four days. It is then ranked by four judges and there is a popular vote.

Thank you to everyone who read the stories and voted, even if you didn't vote for mine. And if you are interested in participating in the challenges let me know and you can be a member of the group.

Here is my story for those who didn't get a chance to read it.

Sweet Season

“Damn it,” she shouted as she stubbed her toes on the leg of the table.

Of course it had to be that foot. The other one, the hoof of a goat, could whack things all day long with no ill effect. And the thought of ill effects reminded her once again that she must eat soon.  Ah, well, it would be soon enough.

She limped over to her pantry. The large wood plank door was hard to open. The bottom of the door caught on a nail in the floor and she had to shake it loose. Cobwebs fell as the door opened enough to allow her large frame to enter the pantry. They covered her black raiment with a ghostly shawl before she shrugged them loose.

Squinting, she eyed the labels on her many jars. She chose four and exited the small room.

She set her jars down on the dusty table next to the big copper kettle. The wood fire beneath had the watery contents at a nice rolling boil.

Carefully she added her ingredients. The pickled frog was a pain to get out. She had to give the jar an earnest shaking.

She gave her concoction a good stirring with the large wooden paddle that she had found next to the kettle. This abandoned maple syrup camp was proving to be an excellent hideout. It was perfect for her needs.

With her warty, crooked tongue she licked the paddle. Her violet eyes rolled in ecstasy. This had been a tough meal to come by but it was all going to be worth it.

With a ladle she spooned herself a large portion into a bowl and made her way to the table by a long wall of windows. They provided her with a panoramic view of the snow covered hills and bare trees. She found it to be quite beautiful.

She uncorked a small jug and covered her meal with some of the home brewed maple syrup she had found in the closed shop next door. And for the next three hours she ate and ate and ate.

Once done, she felt her strength returning. Her renewed vigor gave her the conviction that she would be okay through the coming months.

She pushed herself away from the table. It was time for her favorite part.

In what had been the office of the camp she had made a trophy wall. This one, of all the ones she had ever made in her hundreds of years, showed her greatest accomplishments.

She leveled the batarang on two pegs and smiled. It hung nicely, front and center. Surrounding it were a tattered shirt with an S on it, a golden lariat, a visor of ruby-quartz meant to be worn over the eyes, and a severed hand with long, wickedly sharp claws protruding from it.

Yes, she was having a super, sweet season.

Sweet Season

I am part of a group called The Iron Writers. We have flash fiction challenges, and this week a story of mine is included.

Each week there are five writers competing. They are given four elements that must be included in the story, which can be no more than 525 words. The stories must be written and turned in within five days.

The stories are rated by a panel of judges, but there is also a popular vote.

I am asking that you take a moment to read and then vote for your favorite. Hopefully that will be mine but they are all good stories, so vote for the one you think is best.

*You can click here to go to this week's challenge.*

So, if you have the time, and if you don't mind, please go to The Iron Writer, Challenge 86 and vote for your favorite story.

I thank you in advance. Your participation is very much appreciated.

And if you are interested in becoming part of the group and participating in challenges yourself, leave me a comment and we will certainly welcome you.

Story In Contest!!!

I have a short story in a contest this week!!  Yay!!

If you click here it will take you straight to the story.

I would very much appreciate any comments or likes you could give it.

Thank you so much!!

Please Vote For Me!

Yay! I have a story in this week's Iron Writer competition!

If you have a minute, please click here to go to the website.

Once there you can read the four stories in this week's contest and, at the bottom of the page, you can vote for your favorite. Even if you don't vote for mine, there are four good stories that only take a moment to read.

What is The Iron Writer Challenge? Each week four writers are given four elements to include in their story of 525 words or less. The writers have four days to complete their story and get it turned in. The winner is decided by four judges' recommendations and the popular vote. You can vote at the bottom of the page, just below the last story.

I am so excited! I think that they are all good stories, so my chances are slim but slim is better than none.

Thank you for voting, no matter whose you do vote for!

Story In Contest Part 2

I want to sincerely thank everyone who went and liked my story in the contest last week.

It did not win BUT I lost to a woman who is an established author of ebook novelettes. So I think that I did very well for going up against a real writer.

Thank you again for all your help. I really appreciated how many likes I got and I also got quite a few lovely, lovely comments.

Here is the story, for those who want to read it but didn't get to go to the website.

PINKY

It had been a long day. I had spent all morning at a job fair, having recently lost a very good job. I just wanted to kick off the heels and relax but first my cocker spaniel, Max, had to be taken out.

After a quick outing I was in the process of changing my clothes when he told me he had to go out again. Those with dogs know that look. Even though I was hot and tired I decided better safe than sorry and once again attached his leash.

Once outside he began pulling me, something he never does. He was leading me straight over to a neighbor’s truck. When we arrived at the truck he did something else I have never seen him do. He climbed under the truck.

After only a moment, before I could get down to see what he was doing, he came back to me. Following him was a tiny gray and white kitten. She was meowing her little head off. I had not heard a thing, being deaf in one ear. Evidently he had heard her from inside the house.

She was pitiful. Skin and bones. I could see that she had ringworm around one of her ears and she was covered in fleas. The neighbor whose truck it was was outside and I asked him if she belonged to him. When he replied that she was not his, that he had never seen her, I knew that I had to help the poor thing.

I had very little money but I had enough to take her to the vet. In addition to the ringworm and fleas she had intestinal worms and had evidently suffered a blow to the head. She was blind in one eye and only about four weeks old. Why was such a baby outside all alone? I was incensed.

A few weeks later I found out where she had come from. Another neighbor had thrown her out of his house because she had scratched his niece. I told him that I had no intention of returning her to him if that was the way he treated a tiny kitten and he said fine, he didn’t want her anyway, that he had her mom and dad.

The following weeks were tough on the little cat I named Pinky. My older cat, Jasper, was none too fond of her but seemed to know that the little one was sick. It took quite a while to cure the ringworm and get rid of the intestinal worms. The poor thing would growl while eating. I got her over that by hand feeding her.

What Pinky did for me, though, was wondrous. I was extremely depressed and she perked me up, gave me new purpose. She gave me new hope. I started writing short stories and poetry again. When I took her to the vet I learned they were hiring and got a wonderful job in the kennel. How I loved feeding and playing with the dogs and cats!  

All this was seven years ago and Pinky is healthy and happy. She never grew very big, weighing in at only five pounds. The vet said this is most likely due to malnutrition of her mother. She bosses around the cocker spaniel who found her for me.

And a sweet afterthought is – the day he found her was my birthday.

Story In Contest!!!

I am so excited! I have a short story in a weekly contest that starts today!

It is at Midlife Collage. If you have a minute you can click on the link and read my story "Pinky". It is about how I came to get my little cat. They even have a drawing of a cat that looks like my Pinky.

The story with the most likes and comments wins. So, if you do like it, please like it. Does that sound right? Yes, that't it.

I am just so thrilled to have it in the contest!!

Thank you to everyone that goes to read it!!!

Smiling Sun Short Story

When I awoke this morning the sun was streaming through the blinds. It looks like it is going to be a glorious day. I was reminded of this story that I wrote last year. It was in a small contest. I didn't win, but it was an honor just to have been chosen. I hope you enjoy it.

SMILING SUN

Finally!  It was grocery day.  With list and coupons in hand I headed out in my 1987 Honda Acura.

          Two years before I had lost my job.  I had been relying on the kindness of my father and now I had other means.

          Shopping took over an hour.  I needed every staple, every…well, everything.

          At last it was all loaded into the car.  My back was so painful I looked like a question mark but my heart was light for the first time in an eternity. 

I snapped my seatbelt, turned the key in the ignition and…nothing.  Tried again.  Not even a click.

          I popped the hood, hoping for loose battery cables.  Nope.  All was tight and tidy. 

          A wonderful woman offered me a jump.  An older man helped us get that going.  When I turned the key again my car responded with a dreadful silence.

          By this time an elderly couple had parked near me, shopped and come out and now they approached me with an offer of help.  I was distraught and I suppose it showed.

          “Well, what will you do?” they asked.

 Revealing some of my troubles I shared the fact that I would have to phone my father to ask for more money The elderly couple insisted in taking me and my groceries home.   The thought of leaving the car there distressed me even more because the driver’s side window didn’t work and had to be left open a crack.

After I got home and unloaded the groceries I made the horrible, embarrassing phone calls asking for help.

          The next day my son took me to get a battery.  We arrived at the store and I opened the car door and leaned in to pop the lever that would open the hood.

          

There on the driver’s seat was a small white envelope.  A sun wearing sunglasses was drawn on it.  I picked it up and turned it over.  On the back was a doodle of a daisy and three little words that were huge to me – for a battery.  Inside were five twenty dollar bills.

          I don’t know who left it but I will never forget it.  Many times I have tried to pay it forward.

          When things are really not going well and I am frustrated with the world I only have to picture that symbol of the best that should dwell in all of us: that little smiling sun wearing shades.

Dark Days

Yesterday was a dark day. I barely made it out of bed by the late afternoon. I just stayed there and watched Breaking Bad DVDs on the TV. That has become my distraction of choice when I feel blah. What made me feel even worse is that I had just been thinking that the new med change had been working - my anxiety level was down, I had found something I was really enjoying (blogging and having the new Facebook page to go with it). But that's the way it goes. One day you're up, one day you're down.

I had written this not too long ago to share in a contest. I think I will share it here, with you. To let you know how I live and to let those of you who feel the same know that you are not alone. Enjoy:

DAYS

Sometimes I live in sunshine.

I greet every day with a happy heart. Each morning brings with it a promise of new opportunities. I sip my hot coffee laced with hazelnut creamer as I scan the headlines. Motes sparkle like pixie dust dancing in the sun streaming through the open blinds.

There is a smile on my face as my black cocker spaniel and I exit the building. I take joy in watching him explore the world of smells made anew with each daybreak.

I sit down in my living room to write and the words come easy. My fingers fly as the sentences form on the page. I am delighted when I find that, when I reread it, some of it is actually okay.

I cook delicious meals and cakes and brownies and share them with my neighbors. The apartment smells like a home where love resides as the scent of chocolate permeates the air.

I take great pride as I clean my small home. Everything is in its place. The kitchen gleams. The bathroom shines. I dust the items in my beloved bookshelves.

I chat on the phone or on the computer with my friends. If I have somewhere to go I am happy to be out and grateful that my car is running. Sometimes I take my neighbors places where they would like to go.

When I retire to my bedroom at the end of the day I am glad for the things I accomplished and happy to be in my little spot on the globe. I look forward to the next glorious day.

Sometimes I live in darkness.

The morning doesn’t matter because I’ve been up half the night. The blinds remain closed – I have no desire to see the outside world.

The dog MUST go out so I MUST take him. I see that his face is a little grayer, his eyes a little cloudier with age, than they were yesterday.

The bedroom is my pit for the day. If I write I bring the laptop to the bed or I write longhand. The words must be pulled from my mind like saltwater taffy. And once out they seem to sneer back at me.

Eat or not eat, doesn’t matter. If I do it’s quick and easy and processed. The kitchen may as well be a distant land. Wrappers and boxes and soda bottles find themselves dropped by the bedside. Plates and bowls stack up wherever I can put them without getting up.

I don’t have new dirty laundry because I don’t change my clothes.

I can speak to my friends on the phone but I feel fake. It’s much better on the computer where inflection is harder to determine.

If I have somewhere to go I cancel or reschedule. The thought of driving or riding the bus fills me with such dread that I am frozen in time.

Sometimes I tremble, vibrate, unable to catch my breath. Disjointed thoughts race through my head at breakneck speed and I am paralyzed by unfounded fears. Sometimes I am just there, a slug, taking up a blob of space.

Bedtime doesn’t matter – I’m already there. Hopefully I can sleep. I am filled with apprehension at the thought of another day like this one.

If I could only choose, I would only live in sunshine. But I have no more a choice in that than I do in my eye color. And, after all, it is the combination of the days that makes me ME. So I do my best to embrace the wondrous days and try not to spend them regretting the times when I cannot see the sun.