Prompt Nights # 29: Loss & Madness

sad_face-sweat-greenThis week’s prompt delves into the various aspects of loss and the volatile  emotions it can cause — and considers the possibility that there is a strong connection between loss and madness. I’m offering two pieces for this challenge. The first is a poem that considers loss without the madness — although making the decision to let the wrong person go from our lives could very possibly help keep us from going mad. The second piece is a work of prose that I actually posted in the past in connection with an entirely different challenge, but it seemed to fit this one so well that I thought it deserved a second bow. It does include a degree of madness connected with loss

DECISION

Let him go.
It’s time to admit you’ve been a fool
And take possession back of your own soul.

At first encounter
You saw the good was mixed with bad
The right choice then by now would make you glad.

But foolish child,
You were intrigued, so closer crept
And threw out counsel that you should have kept.

“Do not touch.”
Three words so easy to understand;
Unguardedly, you opened heart and hand.

It’s harder now,
But still you have to make the choice.
And this time listen to the wiser voice.

You call it love,
But such a love that’s unrequited
Just leaves the soul living life one-sided.

Even if
He claimed to share the love you feel,
The danger of forbidden fruit is real.

Let him go.
And pray the feelings soon will die.
To hope for more would be to live a lie.

Let him go.



SECOND THOUGHTS

I’ve thought about you countless times this past year. I sometimes wish I hadn’t been so hasty to make the decision. There are days when I wake up thinking how good it would be to still have you beside me for a few hours. And, of course, every time I make the curried chicken casserole I think about you. It’s downright lonely in the kitchen these days. And I don’t even cook most of the time. I do carry-out.

I don’t order from our favorite Chinese place, though, and I don’t go in there anymore because they almost always ask me, with sadness in their eyes, how I’m doing now that you’re gone. That gentle couple who own the place really got to like you. I think you were probably their favorite customer during the three years we ate there. I miss the Chinese place, and some of the other haunts we made our own. But I’m finding new interests and new friends, and things will work out.

But — sometimes — on a summer evening — when the windows are open to the gentle night air and someone’s laughter floats across the breeze, it reminds me of your laugh. I think that’s one of the things I miss most about you. You were so abandoned when you thought something was funny. You never held back.

But then, as well as I can remember, you never held back on any emotion. And that fact, of course, is what finally led me to make my decision. You just couldn’t seem to hold back on your feelings for all the other men in your life — even my best friend — a man I’d thought would have my back through thick and thin — especially after all we’d been through together in the war. But you were just too much for him. He fell just like all the others. And so I made the decision.

Yeah — as I consider it all again now — I know it was the right thing to do. It put a stop to the hurting for me and for all the rest of ’em too.

The only thing is that — on nights like tonight — with the fragrance of the roses you planted drifting in from the garden — and the radio playing an old song we used to dance to — well — I have to admit to myself at least — I do feel just a little sorry that I poisoned you.


 

To participate in this week’s challenge, visit “A Dash of Sunny.”

 

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100-Word Challenge for Grownups # 186

Julia has offered us another 100-word challenge this week with the following prompt:

“… looking back, I remember …”

I have to confess that I’ve cheated a tad. I’m about 19 words over, but I just didn’t have any more time to spend cutting it down further.

 

COMPUTER READING - TRQUS

STARTING OVER

“Looking back, I remember how easy everything was – especially communication.”
“Tell me, Grandpa.”
“Computers ran everything, including phones and automobiles.”
“Really!”
“And almost everyone could be reached by Internet.”
“I’ve heard about Internet.”
“It’s been twenty-two years since the grids went down.”
“And that shut everything down?”
“Yep. Nothing could be manufactured, vehicles couldn’t run, almost all communication shut down. Our nation had been attacked by E-bombs, and our irresponsible government had no back-ups.”
“Did we fight back?”
“Couldn’t. No way to fire missiles, no planes. And once we were down, other free nations were attacked. The whole free world reduced to walking, writing with wooden pencils, and bartering goods for food and water. Grandson … your generation has a big job ahead of it.”

 

 

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100-Word Challenge For Grownups – Week #184

Julia’s back into the swing of things with her 100-Word Challenge for Grownups this week. The prompt is the following phrase:
“… and just when Harold thought it couldn’t get any worse …”

Visit Julia’s blog to get the details of participating.

SAD SMILEY - FLESH COLORYOU CAN’T WIN ‘EM ALL

Harold slapped the alarm, grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV as the lottery numbers came up. Grabbing his ticket, he checked off the list.

“I won! I won!” He jumped out of bed, stepping on his boxer, Dolly.

“Woof! Woof!” Dolly joined in the excitement.

Barely thinking, Harold threw on clothes and started downstairs. Dolly ran under his feet, and Harold tripped, rolling down the flight in record time. Rubbing is head and his tailbone, he made it to the kitchen to warm up yesterday’s coffee.

The microwave blew a fuse, so he opted for juice, which he spilled on the floor. He bent to wipe it up and dropped his winning ticket into the puddle. And just when Harold thought it couldn’t get any worse, Dolly snatched up the ticket and chewed it to bits.

~~~

Friday Fictioneers 6/8/16 –

To join the fun of Friday Fictioneers 100-Word Story Challenge, just follow the link for the details. Photo by Jan Marler Morrill.  My story is below the picture.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Marler Morrill

 

Sebastian had said, “Follow the alley until it curves right. Stop at the blue door in the wall. Knock four times.”

Okay, here was the turn. Yes … the blue door. Four short raps. She held her breath. … No answer. … She waited. … Still no answer.

Drat the man!  Why all this mystery? Couldn’t they just meet at a cafe?

Lying on the floor inside, Sebastian stretched his arm to reach the door handle. But the knife in his back had done its work. He lost consciousness as the girl turned in frustration and left the alley.

Friday Fictioneers Reruns: ‘But Not Always’

I haven’t had much time to write lately, so since the Friday Fictioneers challenge is doing summer reruns this month, I took advantage of the situation. I’m “reruning” the story I originally wrote for this challenge way back in ?????

Photo copyright belongs to Rich Voza.  My story is below the picture.

Frid Fict Plane

 

BUT NOT ALWAYS

He was Cherokee, she Scottish-American. But the moment they met in the airport coffee shop, they were connected. Waiting out the fog, they talked like old friends. When her plane was called, he carried her bag to her boarding gate.

A question in her eyes, she said, “Wow, Chicago and Dallas – talk about two people going in opposite directions.”

Light flared in his eyes as he realized she didn’t want their connection to end either. He reached out and traced one gentle finger down her cheek.

“Opposite directions today,” he said, “but not always, I think.”

A spark in her eyes leaped to his, just as the boarding line began moving, and he promised: “I will see you again, Joy.”

~

 

~~~

 

Friday Fictioneers 4/29/16 – ‘Sales Appeal’

I haven’t had a chance to participate in Friday Fictioneers in a while, and I’m just getting in under the wire this week. But the picture conjured up this little story, and I couldn’t pass up sharing it. The picture prompt is courtesy of Mary Shipman. My story is below the picture.

PHOTO PROMPT © Mary Shipman

SALES APPEAL

“Pops, when you asked me to come and help with the store, I had no idea you’d been losing money the past ten years. What’s the deal with all these tools and auto parts? And your line of pipe and chewing tobacco is weighing down the shelves.”

“I’m just well-stocked.”

“But your only customers the month I’ve been here are genteel ladies. They don’t buy that stuff.”

“Yeah, the men never shop here.”

“Well, get me the ladder. I’ll fix that.”

(Two hours later)

“Ivan, you can’t hang all those women’s undergarments from the rafters! It will embarrass our customers.”

“Not the customers we’re after. You just wait and see. We’ll have men customers coming out our ears by next week.”

 

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100-Word Challenge For Grown Ups – # 176

Visit Julia’s Place to get the details so you can participate with your own 100-word story. The prompt this week: “… but I thought we were friends …”

 

BLONDY06FRIENDS???

“But I thought we were friends, Trish.”

“We are friends, Kara, and quit your whining. It isn’t going to help. I just choose not to be part of your plan.”

“But I need someone to stand guard for me while I slip into his office.”

“Then you’ll have to try one of your other pals, because it’s not going to be me. We could get arrested!”

Kara crossed her arms over her chest and heaved a tortuous sigh. “I’d do it for you.”

Trish smirked and rose to leave the room. “Of course you would; you’re a lot more stupid than I am.”

 

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Friday Fictioneers – 11/27/15 — Beloved Sentinel

This week’s Friday Fictioneers challenge. The photo is courtesy of Sandra Crook. My story is below the picture.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

BELOVED SENTINEL

“Does she stand on that cliff every day?” Tobias asked.

“Every day,” Raulf replied, looking at the young girl wrapped in her woolen shawl, black hair windswept like a flag.

“But five years! Surely she doesn’t still hope.”

Raulf nodded his head. “Serena insists Jamie will not fail her. He promised, and she must keep trusting.”

Tobias frowned. “She’s so beautiful. I’d gladly have her for my wife. There must be some way to make her see that she needs to move on with her life.”

“She’ll move on … when she sees his sails on the horizon … and not before.”

~~~

 

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100-Word Challenge For Grownups – Week 175 – False Security

BARBED WIRE BORDER CROSSING - dark gray“But shall we close the borders?” one congressman asked another.

“Why bother? It’s a joke to close them without securing them.”

Even as they spoke on the capitol steps, at the southernmost border of the country a knife blade flashed in the moonlight, but the guard was facing the other direction. He hadn’t heard the whisper of five men crawling through the tall grasses – nor the few snaps of wire cutters. So he wasn’t prepared for the strong arm that pulled his head back, exposing his throat.

In seconds, his life was soaking into the ground from the perfectly executed wound.

And five more Mexicans congratulated themselves on having taken up residence in the United States.

~~~

Visit this week’s challenge from Julia to participate with your own 100-word story.

 

 

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Friday Fictioneers — 10/2/15 — ‘Humpty Dumpty’

Hurray,  I’m doing the Friday Fictioneers challenge this week. Just can’t seem to get it in every week, but I do like to take part when I can. If you’d like to join in and write a 100-word story based on this picture — by Marie Gayle Stratford — just follow the link to Rochelle’s place for the easy instructions.

COMPUTER MOUSE PIC - STRATFORD

 

HUMPTY DUMPTY

 

Trying to look casual, he wiggled across the desk. Sherry, his owner, was on break. This was his only chance if he were ever going to connect with that hot pink number over on Wally’s desk. Wow, she was something else!

He was looking cool in his blue striped suit; she’d be impressed.

Whew!  This was hard work, but he was almost to the edge. Then came the dangerous part, but, hey, a mouse had to do what a mouse had to do. Love was worth the risk.

“Okay … at the edge. Now, one big jump, and …”

“Hey, Sherry, your mouse just fell in the floor and broke into a dozen pieces!”

~~~

 

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10-Word Story Challenge

Okay, folks, this challenge is ridiculously difficult, so, of course, I had to try. You can find the details for getting involved yourself at “esthernewtonblog.”

Instructions: Write a 10-word story that includes the following 5 words.

Fedora
Patagonia
Pink
Melancholy
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (a lung disease caused by inhaling very fine silica or quartz dust.)

My story is below:

NEWSPAPER - SEPIATRAGEDY IN THE NEWS

Infected pink fedoras in Patagonia led to melancholy and Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.

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Friday Fictioneers, 5/8/15 — ‘Soul Ties’

This week’s Friday Fictioneers photo just pulled the following story right out of me. Had no idea it was in there, but that’s half the fun of writing, isn’t it? Photo is courtesy of Madison Woods.  My story is below the picture.

BUCKET WITH FAUCET
Photo – © Madison Woods

 

SOUL TIES

“Margo, you’ve been staring at that spigot for twenty minutes.”
“What?” Margo suddenly looked at Jane.
“Why are you just staring at that spigot?”
“I was … uh … I was remembering ….”
“Remembering what?”
“You know … the prison camp.”
“What prison?”
“We were each allowed only one small cup a day.”
“You were never in a prison camp!”
“Yes.”
“I’ve known you all your seventeen years. You’ve never been in prison.”
“The Nazis ….”
“That was your great-great-great grandmother. You never even met her.”
Margo turned questioning eyes back to the spigot. “But I remember … being so desperately thirsty … and how slowly the water ran out ….”

 

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Friday Fictioneers – 4/24/15 — ‘A Trip To the Stars’

So good to get back to Friday Fictioneers this week. If you’d like to join in with your own 100-word story, follow the link to learn how. The photo prompt this week is thanks to Douglas M. MacIlroy.

PHOTO PROMPT - © Douglas M. MacIlroy

A TRIP TO THE STARS

“You’ve got to be kidding!” she said looking at the row of four observatories.

“What do you mean, Honey?”

“When you described a package deal called ‘Honeymoon Under the Stars’ I thought you meant a warm, exotic beach.”

“But, Sweetheart, it’s the only place on earth to spend a week in a real observatory and study the heavens.”

“Harold, I don’t want to study the stars. I want to feel like I’ve been carried there by love … and speaking of that … how can we … you know … in that kind of place?”

“Don’t worry, my love,” he said, kissing her thoroughly. “I’ll give you a trip to the stars whether you ever look through that telescope or not.”

 

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100-Word Challenge for Grownups, Week 149: ‘A Dirge for April Fools’

Well, I seem to be in some kind of MOOD today. Julia posted her 100-word story challenge this morning, and chose a light, springy, happy subject: April. So what did I do with it?  See below, but please don’t ask me why?  I simply have no idea.

Exif JPEGA DIRGE FOR APRIL FOOLS

April. Marcus had promised to come to her in April. She’d have a white gown and bouquet of pink azaleas.

February. She’d believed Peter when he’d told her of Marcus’ infidelity and comforted her grief. So she’d married Peter on the last day of March – mere hours before Marcus’ brother arrived, bringing her the coffin containing her beloved’s body – slain at Peter’s hand.

April 1st. She buried Marcus and planted a pink azalea bush upon his grave. That night, as Peter slept, she drove a knife into his heart – and then into her own – her final breath a benediction: “Rest in peace, Marcus.”

 

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Oh, I Remember That One: 100-Word Stories Revisited

Well, I am so grateful to the Lord for friends who specialize in computers and all their appendages. Thanks to one of those friends, my technological problems seem to be remedied this evening, and I shall go forward from here. But seeing that I was just too tired to start creating from scratch again tonight, I decided to take another little trip down memory lane and wandered through some of my old 100-word stories. (Some may have tipped a little over the 100 mark, but not too far over). Thought I’d just re-post a few of them on here and air them out again. Some of you will remember them, but many of you were not following at the time they were written, so they will be fresh for you.  Either way, I hope each of you finds at least one or two that you enjoy.

MUSICAL NOTES AND FLOWERS - NEGATIVECARRIED ON A SONG

I heard the song today. As I walked through Hilliard’s department store, a customer opened a jewelry box, and the melody tinkled across the room. My breath caught in my chest. Tears sprang to my eyes. But my heart smiled. Every time I hear it, I think of you.

Roger loves me, and our boys are treasures I’d never part with, but my heart still aches for you. All those years ago, Fate decreed us bitter enemies in that horrible war between our nations. But as long as I live, my love will seek and find you in the strains of that song.

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QUILL & SCROLL - sepiaTHE WRITTEN WORD

The quills were ancient. Mara had found them locked in a closet of the abby. But the points were sharp, the monks having taken great care of them. She sighed now. “Remember, Robert … computers and photocopiers? It was all so easy?”

“Yeah … life before the E-bombs. Who would have dreamed our electronic infrastructure was so unprotected!”

“If the new dictator hadn’t confiscated all the manual typewriters and pencils as well, we could at least communicate to some extent!”

Picking up a quill, Robert replied: “Well, this is how our ancestors printed letters and books. We come from the same stock. So –” dipping his quill into the ink – “let’s get started.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

TERRY'S WHITE BIRCHES with name brightenedFABEL ABLE

“Hello!” Dickey Hendricks greeted the curious animal in the forest.
“Hello.”
“Boy, you’re funny looking! Who are you?”
“I’m Fable Abel.”
“Who’s that?”
“The main character in the fable about just being yourself.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, my author started creating me to be a zebra. He gave me these hind legs. But then I saw a tiger and insisted on becoming a tiger instead. So he gave me this body. But when I saw a giraffe, I begged my author to make me a giraffe. So he stretched my neck. But just as he was drawing my head, I saw an elephant and shouted, ‘No, I want to be an elephant with a looooong trunk!’”
“Oh my! So what are you now?”
“A lesson for boys and girls like you.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

APT. BUILDING CARTOON - PUNCHEDSURPRISE, HONEY!

“Okay, you can open your eyes. . . . Well . . . what do you think?”

“What do you mean, what do I think?”

“My surprise!”

“This . . . this . . . MONSTROSITY!!??”

“It’s a famous landmark.”

“You mean you invested ALL our money in THIS?

“It will make a grand hotel; you’ll see.”

“No . . . I won’t see. I’m going home!”

“But . . . I thought you knew . . .”

“Knew? . . .

“Well, I used the money from our old house to —

“You WHAT!”

He ran as he’d never run before.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

VIRGINIA CREEPER -- FREE PHOTOLOVE GROWS ON YOU

Virginia Creeper wasn’t beautiful and was generally considered a nuisance wherever she grew. But she had a kind heart, and when she heard sobbing out by the alley, she crawled over to investigate. She found Barney, the discarded garbage truck, soaking the ground with his tears. Barney?”

I-I-I’ve been thrown away! Dumped here; no one wants me now. Dead motor. And everybody says I-I-I stink!” His sobs were heartbreaking.

Virginia gathered her strength. Stretching, squirming, she pulled herself toward the unhappy truck. She reached up, grabbed his bumper, and curled around it, stretching higher and wider until she had completely embraced Barney in a comforting hug. “Don’t cry, Barney. I love you, and I’ll stick with you forever.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

LIGHTHOUSE WITH FOGFOG

The fog’s especially heavy tonight. It’s a good time to stay inside and write this letter. I can’t see three feet past the door. The lighthouse on the island has sounded the foghorn every two minutes for hours. You remember the island, don’t you? Where we buried him? I often wonder what would have happened if the fog had lifted in time for someone to see us digging the grave.

I wish you were here with me. I’m always chilled and shaky when there’s fog. It feels as if something’s choking me. Nights like this, I wonder if that’s how he felt as we tightened that rope around his neck until he stopped breathing. I wish you were here with me. I hate fog.

~~~

`

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STONE FACE FOR STORYONE LOOK WAS ALL IT TOOK

“The stone head at the very top of the building is what’s left of the king’s former messenger,” the guide explained. “Doomed by a curse to remain in that position, with eyes closed forever, seeing nothing. Punishment for looking lustfully at the king’s daughter.”
“You mean he’s still alive?” one tourist asked.
“Indeed, but he will never have a body or real eyes again unless the princess herself breaks the spell.”
“How?”
“She must publicly forgive him, then climb up and seal the forgiveness with a kiss.”
“And she refuses?”
“Oh, she’s willing enough, but … alas … she’s afraid of heights.”

~~~

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HOUSE CONSTRUCTIONA MAN OF VALUE

Eddie couldn’t hold back the tears as he stood at the building site, his hand gripped by Tony, an ox of a guy with tears in his own eyes. “Thanks, Ed, for all you’ve done here.” Tony and his family had lost everything, including their house. But today they’d received the key to a brand new home.

Eddie, serving the 7th of his 25-year sentence, had worked in the carpentry rehabilitation unit for three years now, making prefab elements for these low-income housing projects. “I’m just so grateful the warden gave me permission to be here for the presentation,” he said. He’d considered himself scum for most of his life, but today – wiping tears away with his shirt sleeve – he felt like a valuable human being with something worth giving to life.

He grinned at Tony. “Dang, I’m actually looking forward to the rest of my sentence, helping to build a better life for a lot of people.”

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