Prompt Nights -1/6/17

This week’s prompt: ‘Tomorrow when the sun will rise, who knows what the tide could bring.’

brendas-ocean-side-cropped

TREASURE FROM THE TIDE

Each morning eight-year-old Aran, his mahogany skin warmed by the sun, trekked to the shore to greet his best friend. The brilliant blue of the water delighted him, and as the waves danced and frolicked on their way to the beach, Aran waited eagerly for them to spill onto the sand at his feet so that he could dance with them.

After splashing in the tide to his heart’s content, he then hurried to the small cave set into the rocky cliff overlooking the beach, where he kept his stash of sea-polished rocks. Daily, he scoured the beach, collecting new ones, always anticipating some special treasure that he was sure, one day, would be deposited on this tiny island by this best of friends, the ocean.

Today he’d found that gift. But what was it? Coral? It didn’t feel like coral. It wasn’t quite hard enough. He examined it closely, his nimble fingers tracing the scores of tiny hollows that formed a pattern and offered a mystery.

He carried it home at lunch time to show his mom and Grandfather. “What is it, Poppy?” he’d asked Grandfather. He knew Poppy had traveled to distant lands many years ago, and he would surely know what this beautiful treasure was.

“It’s a wasps’ nest,” was the rep!y, and then, because the island had no wasps, Poppy had to explain about the insects and how they built their homes.

Fascinated by Poppy’s words, Aran held the delicate structure close. Here it was! His anticipated treasure from another world! His connection with people and adventures that were beyond his ocean! He would treasure this gift … keep it safe … and some day … some day he would set off from this tiny island that had been his home for eight years, and – carried in the arms of his best friend – he would discover the rest of the world for himself.

~~~

Friday Fictioneers – 12/13/13 – ‘Anthropology 101’

I feel as if I’ve been darting in and out of Friday Fictioneers lately, but it’s such fun that I don’t want to miss unless I have to. This week I managed to cook up a little something, so you’ll find my story below Adam Ickes’ interesting picture.

Jump over to Rochelle’s blog to check out the details if you’d like to offer your own 100-word story.

Copyright - Adam Ickes

 ANTHROPOLOGY 101

My marriage to an anthropologist was educational – and short. Herman insisted we honeymoon on an island he’d studied for years – certain he could convince the cannibalistic natives to help him with his research. I acquiesced.

The ship captain called us fools as he left us on the shore, but Herman insisted he had everything under control.

When the tribe captured us, they bound Herman and carried me to a huge throne. Seems my blond hair was their sign that their goddess had arrived. I’m to be worshiped and given every heart’s desire forever.

Of course, they feasted in celebration of my arrival.

I’ll miss Herman.

~~~

~~~

 

 

Friday Fictioneers — 10/4/13 — Three For One

Well it does feel good to get back in the saddle with Friday Fictioneers. I have been a little swamped with other work the past couple months and have missed out on the fun. But this week I am going to have even more fun than usual because not only have I written a story in response to the challenge, but I have also invited the students in my current creative writing class to participate along with me.

Unfortunately, most of those students have not had the time to submit something for this week’s prompt (I keep them too busy writing for the class), but two students have joined me. The first submission is a 100-word story from Jo Boester, who is a new blogger here on WordPress. (You will find her blog at this link: http://jboester.wordpress.com/).

The second submission is a 100-word poem from Erin Campbell. Now, Erin actually submitted this poem for another challenge we took part in, but when I looked at the picture for this week and saw the connection with the ocean, I took it upon myself to encourage her to let her poem apply to FF’s as well. She writes of tide and time from a unique perspective, and I think it’s a fitting response to the challenge.

I’m very proud of both of these writers and look forward to seeing them pursue their writing goals and publish more of their work in the near future.

Last of all, you will find my story. I was just in the mood for romance this week, and although seagulls seem to be the main focus of the photo, my mind and heart were captured by the beach itself and the romantic interlude it inspired. Hope you enjoy what we have to offer.

Here’s the photo prompt, which comes to us from E. A. Wicklund at http://momusnews.wordpress.com/

TWO SEAGULS -- E. A. WICKLUND

THE LONELY SEAGULL
by Jo Boester

As I walked on the beach early one morning, I spied a seagull ahead of me, sluggishly wading in the water. The closer I came to him the more I could sense his loneliness. When I drew closer, I saw another seagull circling overhead.

The seagull in flight was slowly closing the gap between them, and as he swooped down, they both spread their wings wide in greeting. Some observers might have thought this was an act of aggression, but I believe it was a way of avoiding being alone for another long day. I wondered: “Do the birds, as well as man, desire companionship?”

~
© 2013 Jo Boester

***

OPREA
by Erin Campbell

A rock is my island.
The rock is my throne,
where I sat and watched
as the world turned to dust.
A thousand years of progress
swirls around me like
a cloak around my shoulders.
It caresses my cheek and settles in
my eyes and hair like a crown
as the wind bellows at its loss.
Tides rise and wash the ages onto
sallow shores, leaving broken shell
memories behind in their wake.
I am the only one to keep them close.
The island grows as I grow.
Loved and feared by nothing.
A ruler of ashes, I command ghosts.

~
© 2013 Erin Campbell

***

THE KISS
by Sandra Conner

They sauntered along the isolated beach, shoes in hand, just as the sun slipped into the ocean.

Stopping at an outcropping of rocks, Jonah leaned against the rockface, pulling Valentina against him.  Her eyes sought his, instantly identifying the fire that turned them to wine. “I thought I’d never get you to myself,” he growled softly as her arms encircled his back.

He tightened his hold, burrowing his right hand in her hair, pulling her closer. Nibbling and teasing her lips, he finally possessed them with a hunger she’d come to crave. She felt the melting begin and eagerly surrendered.

~

Join the fun. Get the details over at Rochelle’s place:
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/10/02/4-october2013/

100-Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week # 107 – Three For One

100 WORD CHALLENGE LOGO

I’m especially excited to be taking part in Julia’s challenge this week because I also invited students of my current creative writing class to participate as well. Many of my students are just too busy to write more than what’s required for the class right now, but two of them, Erin Campbell and Lyra McCarty each submitted a 100-word poem for the challenge. I’m very proud to call them my students, and I think you will enjoy their poems.

The fact that they chose poetry for their response to the challenge is especially interesting to me because I had written a poem this time around as well and was awaiting the student submissions so that I could share all of our work in this post. 

For those of you who are not familiar with the challenge, you can find all the details on Julia’s own site at this link:
http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2013/09/30/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week107/

The prompt this week:  “… as the world turned …”
Now for the poetry:

OPREA
by Erin Campbell

A rock is my island.
The rock is my throne,
where I sat and watched
as the world turned to dust.
A thousand years of progress
swirls around me like
a cloak around my shoulders.
It caresses my cheek and settles in
my eyes and hair like a crown
as the wind bellows at its loss.
Tides rise and wash the ages onto
sallow shores, leaving broken shell
memories behind in their wake.
I am the only one to keep them close.
The island grows as I grow.
Loved and feared by nothing.
A ruler of ashes, I command ghosts.

~
© 2013 Erin Campbell

***

AS THE WORLD TURNS
by Lyra McCarty

As the world turns I seek you.
I listen — and you are here?
Not a caress passes between us.
But I know that you are near.

Always a crowd surrounds us
In a whirlpool of noisy things.
Some are always pushing
They think I have no King.

I live in the twilight hours
Lost between night and day.
I know you Dear Lord Jesus
And understand your way.

As the world turns I seek you.
I listen — and you are here?
Not a caress passes between us.
But I know you hold me dear.

~
© 2013 Lyra McCarty

***

AS THE WORLD TURNED
by Sandra Conner

As the world turned and turned and turned,
So his heart yearned, and churned, and burned.
Day unto day and night unto night
He pondered on ways to satisfy spite.

If he could not have her – his love, his life,
He’d see to it no one else made her his wife.
He thought out his strategy, planned every move,
And finally knew how to deal with his love.

So swiftly he made his way into her room
And there, as she slept, introduced her to doom.
Then, satisfied that a lesson she’d learned,
He joined her in silent death as the world turned.

~
© 2013 Sandra Conner

***

Friday Fictioneers – 4/19/13 — ‘The Gift’

Friday Fictioneers, that 100-word story challenge, has rolled around again. This week the prompt comes from a lovely photo by Janet Webb. To join the fun visit Rochelle Wiseoff-Fields’ site here:
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

Wasp nest

The Gift

Each morning 8-year-old Aran, his mahogany skin warmed by the sun, trekked to the shore to play with his stash of sea-polished rocks. Eagerly, he collected new ones, always anticipating some special treasure deposited on this tiny island by his best friend, the ocean.

Today he’d found that gift. Coral? It didn’t feel like coral. Scores of tiny hollows inside formed a pattern and offered a mystery.

“What is it, Poppy?” he’d asked Grandfather, who’d traveled to distant lands.

“A wasps’ nest,” was the reply, and then, because the island had no wasps, Grandfather explained.

Aran held the delicate structure close. Here it was! His anticipated treasure from another world! His connection with people and adventures that were beyond his ocean! He would treasure this gift … keep it safe … and some day ….

~