Archive for the ‘fiction’ Category


photo by Sarah Potter

Susie headed toward the door. She had allowed just the right time to run across the street and through the yards five blocks down to her house. She would climb up the tree and into her bedroom window with just enough time to get into her nightgown before her mother came in to wake her. Susie always had perfect timing.

Opening the door of her boyfriend’s apartment building, Susie couldn’t believe her eyes! It couldn’t be. It hadn’t been in the forecast. Now her secret outings would be uncovered.

If the snow didn’t, her mother was going to kill her!

100 Words, Fiction


#FridayFictioneers is a weekly blog link-up hosted by Rochelle and dedicated to 100 word stories to go along with a photo prompt. Check it out and give it a try!


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Expectations, Part 3

As she stood just outside the motel door, she thought about the last time she had seen him when they had both been seventeen. His family was moving away. He came in on the last day and got his things and left. He had looked at her for a long time and, turning is head, had said goodbye to her and walked away. Now, all these years later, he was coming toward her, not away from her and she was there to meet him. She wasn’t sure if she would even recognize him. The car drove up and she was sure, yet not, that it was him. Once he stepped out of the car with a big smile on his face, and began to walk toward her, she knew it was him. He had a distinctive gait and this was it, coming toward her. They embraced quickly and headed to the room.

They talked. He asked her a lot of questions and asked her to read to him from some of her journal. She did so willingly and yet, as she did it, she got the feeling that she was performing for him. He sat on the bed and watched her in a sort of detached way. It made her feel as if he was sitting outside a glass wall watching her; not participating; just observing. It was a little creepy but it was all she had.

After a while, they went for a walk down the street for sodas. Just a walk. A special walk. He took her hand as they walked and that was special to her. Never in her life had she had a man take her hand as they walked; not even the man she had been married to for so many years. This was was full of promises for tomorrow and regrets of the past.

That was the most special thing that night; a special walk, holding hands in the brisk November night.

There was a slow down in the talk as the time for him to leave arrived. All in all, they had spent about five hours together. Not a lot but so much more time than they had spent together in the past. She asked if she would see him again the next day. It was only Friday and she had the room through Sunday afternoon. He said he wasn’t sure but he would call her and let her know.

When he left the room after a long embrace, she couldn’t walk him out. She had that memory of him walking away from her all those years before. She didn’t want to watch him walk away from her again. That couldn’t be the last thing she remembered of him.

The door closed, and she listened to his steps as he walked away.

I think this is the last part. There’s more but I think I’ll write those bits and pieces as another series of short clips.

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Expectations, Part 2

She was nervous. She was anxious. Another look at the clock and she realized it would be at least another six hours before she heard from him. She looked at the little map next to the phone and found an area a few blocks away where she might be able to shop and get some coffee. She knew she would be better off killing time there than in the room.

The bookstore yielded a new deck of Tarot cards on clearance, and appropriately enough, it was the Tarot of Love! She bought a new writing journal and headed for the coffee shop to get some coffee. A quick look at her watch and she figured she would head back to the motel and take a long relaxing bath before dressing for his arrival.

Before long, his call came saying he would be another hour or so but he’d call her when he was on his way. She dressed and tried to relax. She had brought beer and a few snacks but she didn’t know what the plan was and didn’t want to ruin anything. She laughed at herself when she thought about how she had called the motel to make sure they gave her a room that had a couch. Not just a bed, chair, and desk. She specifically told them she was expecting friends and didn’t want the bed to be the only place to sit on. Silly maybe but she really didn’t know what to expect.

The phone rang and he said he was on his way. It would only take less than ten minutes. Would she wait for him outside? She told him which driveway to take and that she would be waiting outside. Taking a big breath and checking her hair in the mirror, she headed outside.

The stage was set.

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The smile on her face could not hide the excitement inside of her. She was racing three hundred miles to see him. She had talked to him and written to him but she had not seen him in almost thirty years. They had reunited online…through and email he had written to her. And just like that, their relationship was off and running.

This long weekend would be perfect. Her kids were with their father, visiting his parents. She had spent the holiday with family but all her obligations were over and the rest of the weekend belong to her…and to him…to them. They had both written a variety of scenarios for this meeting and shared them with each other. If the weekend turned out anything like those scenarios, it was bound to be the most perfect weekend.

The closer she got, the wider the smile. And when she checked into the motel room she had reserved for herself, she couldn’t contain herself. She knew she would have to wait until he arrived and it would be hours but the wait would be so worthwhile. As she entered the room, full of expectations, her body buzzed with excitement.

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Yesterday I mentioned that I am going to write a minimum of 100 fiction words each day this month in an effort to get back to fiction writing. Here’s the first installment, written late night on January 1. I won’t always share them but, as it’s the beginning one, I’m sharing this one. It’s 108 words so it fits the minimum.


She stood above the desk staring at the blank piece of paper. It was at an angle, as if someone had been about to write something. Who could it have been and to whom was this bit of writing for? What was going to be written? Was it business or was it personal and did it have any connection to her job here? Like any good detective, she was filled with more questions than answers. She took one last look at the desk and everything on it before returning to the adjoining office where the body lay waiting for the CSI team to finish their work.

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Three days passed before they found the body.

It had been a crazy night. What was supposed to be a fun night with my brothers and sisters had turned into a night of bringing up old wrongs and old hurts. Before anyone knew it, there had been too much drinking and too many accusations. Meg couldn’t figure out how things had gone wrong. She tried to salvage the evening by changing the subject to happier times. She thought that would make a difference and bring them all together again but it didn’t.

Meg’s sister brought up the year that the two of them had each gotten a Chatty Cathy doll. Meg’s had been a brunette with a blue dress and her sister had wanted it because her blonde doll with the pink dress didn’t look like her. She wanted a doll with brown hair and brown eyes, like she had but she was only five and didn’t know how to say wht she wanted so she was stuck with the doll. She didn’t like it and had left it in the box and had not played with it. Two weeks went by and Meg’s doll already had smudges on her face and a tiny rip in the back of the dress because she took the doll everywhere with her. She slept with it, ate with it, took it in the car and was never seen without it until one day when Meg woke up and Chatty Cathy was gone. She looked all over for it until she began to cry. Their mother helped her look and soon, the whole family was looking for Chatty Cathy. It was gone. Just gone.

Three days later, when they were walking back home from the park around the corner, Meg saw her doll. It was in one of the trash cans that were sitting at the curb waitng to be picked up. The eyes had been punched back into the head and there was red marker all over her arms and face. Chatty Cathy’s dress had been ripped to shreds. Meg started crying when she saw her treasured doll. She pulled her doll out of the neighbor’s trash can and cradled her in her arms as they walked home, tears flooding out of her eyes. Her sister put her arm around Meg’s shoulder and told her she could have her blonde Chatty Cathy. Meg thought it was so nice of her sister. She didn’t see the smug look on her sister’s face.




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I was happy for her. I was also sad that she was leaving but I knew that she was headed for new things, new places, new people. A fresh start. How many times had I wished that I could get a new start, only to continue the same daily struggles? No, not her. Not my girl. I prayed she would never live a life like mine where she was my only happiness. She was headed for college; a bright future. I was sure of that. Even the heavens were smiling on her as she boarded that bus bound for Happiness!

Word Count: 100


Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!

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