LOOKING BACK: DIGGING THROUGH THE ARCHIVES OF ‘IN LOVE WITH WORDS’

I’ve posted a ton of articles/stories/poems/photos on here the past 3 years. And as I’ve progressed into 2015, I realize that there are a few of those “old” posts that keep pushing their way back into my thoughts even though I’ve moved on. They were the ones I enjoyed writing and sharing so much that they keep drawing me back to read them myself — even though I already know what they say. But every writer has that experience from time to time, and I have to admit that I enjoy looking back.

WOMAN AT WINDOW LOOKING BACK
As a result, I got to thinking that there may be some of my readers — especially those who have come on board the past few months — who may not have had an opportunity to read some of those oldies from previous years, and they might enjoy them as well. So I’ve put together a list of 13 (certainly not all) of my own favorites from the past, and I’ve included the links — with a tiny blurb of explanation. That way, if any of them sound interesting to you, they’ll be easy to find, and you can travel back in time with me.   ENJOY!

 

LOVE WILL FIND A WAY — a modern-day short story that borrows some of its plot from the legend of Kaw-Liga, the wooden Indian who fell in love but never made his move. Don’t know why I like this story so much, but it’s been one of my favorites ever since I originally wrote it in May of last year.

BIRD ON MY TREE AT SUNSET — a photograph that is a special treasure to me — mainly because I can almost never get a good picture of birds. They move too much.  But this particular evening, I captured this bird with the light just right, and it will always be one of my favorites.

2014: THE YEAR OF THE AUTHOR – PART 2 – the second installment in a 4-part series about writing. I enjoyed writing this whole series, and I use this material all the time in my creative writing classes, but this particular post was about publishing in today’s writing market, and it has some very helpful information and advice, especially for new writers. It’s my favorite article of the series.

THE TRIAL OF MARYBELL WESTMORELAND – a short, short story that didn’t come from a plan to write. I just started writing, and, next thing I knew, Marybell was on trial — and with a surprise testimony to offer.

TELL ME A STORY WRITING CHALLENGE: ‘THROUGH GEOFFREY’S WINDOW – a short story based on a totally unique picture by my Portland Oregan friend Bob Mielke. The reason this is one of my favorite posts is that the story was literally born out of the picture — which is an original graphic creation of Bob’s, using his own photos. I couldn’t seem to stay away from that photo. It kept calling me to write it’s story, and I loved doing it.

WHERE DID I MISS YOU? –– a searching look at how simple choices can affect our entire life and how “finding” a person at the “wrong” time can be frustrating yet rewarding at the same time.

SNOWCHILD – a poem about my terribly ambivalent feelings concerning snow.

TRIBUTE TO AN ORDINARY POET –  a personal tribute to my mother and her poetry.

LOVE ON THE LINE – a light-hearted poem based on the true story of a WWII sailor and his very, VERY difficult task of proposing to his girlfriend while home on leave.

AZALEAS ABOUNDING – a slideshow of my glorious azaleas from the spring of 2012. The original slideshow was created using a different theme for this blog, and unfortunately, now that I’ve changed to this current theme, the pictures don’t show up as large. I’m just too busy with other things to take time to re-make the whole gallery to fit this theme correctly. However, I still enjoy going back to look at them again and again.

SEPTEMBER IN THE RAIN (‘I AM A RAINDROP’) — a post containing my original poem, “I Am A Raindrop,” and a video. This was one of the most fun poems I’ve ever written, and I often re-read it just to re-live the fun.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A CHRISTIAN TO CALL ON JESUS – an encouraging look at Jesus and His commitment to loving, forgiving, and restoring every human being who will come to Him for help.

A QUIVER FULL OF ARROWS – an entire novel — one of three of my novels that I have offered for free reading online. I am a fan of every novel I’ve ever written, of course, but I have to say that A Quiver Full of Arrows is one of my favorite favorites. I originally posted the story one chapter a day until it was complete, and readers commented on it one chapter at a time. However, this link takes the reader to the page that hosts the novel in its entirety.

 

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Arnold’s Antlers — A Christmas Story for Children of ALL AGES

ARNOLD’S ANTLERS

GLOBE - NORTH POLE DARK BLUE CLEAR NAMESome people say that way up at the very top of the planet Earth — at the spot that scientists call the North Pole — where it’s very cold — there is a special city — a big, bright, happy, busy city.

And they say that everyone who lives there spends their time making toys and games and yummy treats to give away to all the boys and girls who live on planet Earth.

The reason is that the city is the home of a jolly, round, kind man named St. Nicholas – and he’s known as the giver of gifts. Some children in different countries call him by other names: Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, and Santa Claus, to name a few.

As the story goes, St. Nicholas plans his whole year around one particular night – Christmas Eve – when he loads up a huge sleigh with all the wonderful gifts his helpers have made and flies through the night to deliver them to homes all over the planet Earth.

He has twelve reindeer who pull his sleigh for him, and when they are on the ground, they look just like any other reindeer. But as soon as he’s ready to take flight, St. Nicholas calls out to his team, “Let’s fly!” and they all leap into the air. The leader of the team is a reindeer named Rudolph, and he has a bright red nose that helps light the way when it’s foggy.

SLEIGH FLYING NEW - smallerRudolph has become very famous. There’s even a song about him, and people all over the world sing it. But a lot of people don’t know that he has a younger brother named Arnold. That’s right. And the story in this book is about Arnold and his antlers.

When Arnold was born, his parents were so excited, and so was his older brother. Rudolph had been an only child for many, many years, and even though he had a lot of friends among the other reindeer who lived at the North Pole, he didn’t have anyone that he felt was his very own.

ARNOLD & RUDOLPH AT AT BEGINNINGSo as soon as Arnold was old enough, Rudolph took him along everywhere he went and taught him all about the city where the toys were made. He also taught him about the North Pole, the great forest that hid the city from sight, and the icy cold river that ran through the forest and all the way down to the places where the weather was warm all year.

Rudolph and Arnold ran and played with the other young reindeer in St. Nick’s herd, and they were very happy. One of Arnold’s favorite things to do was to sit and listen to Rudolph tell how he had became the leader of St. Nicholas’ team. Arnold was proud of his big brother, and he got so excited when Rudolph told him stories about flying through the air delivering all the toys.

And St. Nicholas was always looking over the herd, checking to see who might be a good addition to the team. He liked to have young deer in training at all times. If some of his team caught a cold and couldn’t fly on Christmas Eve – or if his older deer became tired and needed to switch to doing easier jobs – he could get a substitute instantly and never be without enough reindeer who were in perfect shape to pull his very heavy sleigh. Every year, he chose two young deer to go into the training program.

When Arnold was about a year old, St. Nicholas came to look him over thoroughly and talk to the family about his following in his brother’s footsteps. The whole family was excited. They just knew that since Rudolph was St. Nicholas’ most important deer, his younger brother would surely be the first one chosen that year to go into training.

“What a fine specimen you are, Little Arnold,” St. Nick said, as he lifted Arnold’s head and smiled at him. Continuing his examination, St. Nick checked out Arnold’s back and hips and legs. He lifted each leg to examine Arnold’s hooves. And when he was done with that, he came back to Arnold’s head and began to look over his antlers.

Now, regular deer grow antlers and then shed them and grow new ones the following year. But the reindeer at the North Pole do not shed their antlers. They keep the same antlers all their lives. St. Nicholas looked carefully at Arnold and ARNOLD WITH CROOKED SMILE - YELLOWsaid, “Hmmm, these are quite large already, aren’t they?”

“Yes sir,” said Arnold proudly. He felt that growing large antlers must be a good thing.

“Mmmmmmm …” was all that St. Nick said before he patted Arnold’s head kindly and turned toward his parents. Mom and Dad had noticed that St. Nick did not seem all that happy about Arnold’s antlers. They looked at him hopefully.

St. Nick sighed gently. “Well,” he said, “we’ll let Arnold start training and see what happens. He may grow into those antlers yet.” And with that, he took his leave of the family, but he asked Rudolph to walk with him.

As they walked, St. Nick looked at Rudolph and said, “Well, Rudy, you know what the problem might be.”

Rudolph’s heart beat fast. He was feeling afraid. He knew that his little brother wanted to fly with St. Nick on Christmas Eve more than anything in the world. And Rudolph had looked forward all year to helping train his brother so that they could work together. He finally managed to get words out. “You … you think his antlers are going to be too big to fly, don’t you sir?”

St. Nick looked kindly at his favorite deer. “Yes, Rudolph, I fear that Arnold is one of those special deer who grows such a huge set of antlers that they make him too top-heavy to fly.”

“But, sir … but you said yourself that he might grow into them!” Ruldoph’s voice shook just a little as he talked, and St. Nick reached out his hand to stroke his back and comfort him.

“Yes, I said that he might grow into them, but, you know as well as I do by now that it rarely ever happens that way. I just could not disappoint him today. So … we will put him into the training program and see how things go.”

And so it was that Arnold began his training. There were so many things to learn. Pulling the sleigh wasn’t just about leaping into the air and taking off.

Each deer had to learn how to balance his body once he was airborne. And he had to learn how to turn left and right even when the wind was blowing the opposite direction. And, most of all, he had to learn to pull with all the other deer, so that they all worked together as one. It wouldn’t do for some of them to be pulling one way and the rest pulling a different way – or for some to be pulling all the time, and the rest not to be pulling much at all.

Arnold loved his training, and when the day came for him to actually lift off the ground, he was so excited he could not sleep the night before. On that day, at Rudolph’s command, Arnold threw himself into the air, all four of his legs moving at the same speed, just the way he’d been taught. He felt the wind brush past him, and his lungs sucked in the delicious air.

ARNOLD'S PRACTICE FLIGHTS W. HOLLYHe was bursting with pride and excitement as he began his turn to the left, but suddenly, he felt thrown off-balance. He could not complete his turn, and he began to roll through the air, headed for the ground. He landed with a thud, but, thankfully, since he hadn’t been flying very high yet, he wasn’t hurt badly.

Rudolph hurried to his side. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I just sort of lost my balance and started rolling to the left.” He had scrambled to his feet by then, so he shook himself to get the twigs and dust off his coat and said. “But I’ll give it another try.”

“Okay, if you want to, but be careful, you hear?” his brother said.

“Oh, I will. And besides, what’s a little fall. I’m sure other reindeer have fallen plenty of times when they were learning.”

ARNOLD'S PRACTICE FLIGHTS - holly flippedSo Arnold tried once more – this time turning toward the right. But, again, he lost his balance and began to roll and ended up on the ground.

By this time, he was a year and a half old, and his antlers had kept growing and growing and growing. They hadn’t bothered him because he just figured he would do as St. Nick had said and grow big enough to fit them. But now he found himself worrying that it was his antlers that were his problem.

Two days later, when St. Nicholas sent for him and his parents to come to his office, Arnold felt very afraid of what was going to take place. St. Nicholas was very kind when he talked with them, but that didn’t make what he had to say any easier to hear.

“I’m always sorry when one of my deer has to be disqualified from flying with my sleigh,” he said. “It’s happened only half a dozen times in all these hundreds of years, but it’s always sad for me. This time,” he added as he looked over at Rudolph, “I’m especially sorry because I know that Arnold’s flying with the sleigh means so much to his brother as well as to Arnold himself.”

St. Nick got up from his chair and walked over to Arnold. He put his arm around the deer and rubbed his nose gently. “I’m sorry, Arnold, but I have something for you.” St. Nick picked up a holly wreath from a stack of them on his desk. “As you know, only my sleigh reindeer wear these wreaths around their necks, but I’m giving you one and making you an honorary member of the team because you’ve worked so hard”.

St. Nick placed the small wreath around Arnold’s neck and said, “And I promise you that you can have any other job you want here at the Pole. You just think about it and let me know what you’d like to do.”

The family returned to their apartment in the stables, and for days, Arnold just lay on the hay and would not even eat. “But, dear,” his mother said, “you must eat to keep up your strength.”

“Strength for what?” he cried. “If I can’t fly, then I don’t need strength to pull the sleigh, and there’s no other job that I want to do.” His mother didn’t argue because she knew that when a young deer decides to feel sorry for himself instead of making the best of things in his life, there is no taking him out of his self-pity. She would just have to let him figure it out for himself.

ARNOLD & RUDOLPH TALKING WITH TEXTUREFinally, one day Arnold decided to leave. “But where do you plan to go?” Rudolph asked. “Don’t do something so foolish,” he added.

“I wish I’d never grown antlers!” Arnold shouted. “Why couldn’t I have been born a girl! Girls don’t have antlers. That would be better than this.”

Rudolph just shook his head. What nonsense, he thought. Who would want to be a girl reindeer? They didn’t have nearly the fun the boys had. Oh, he had heard St. Nick talking about how he thought it was time to start including girl reindeer on his team for the sleigh, but Rudolph doubted it would ever happen. (Now, that’s where he was wrong, because, although he hadn’t told Rudolph yet, St. Nick planned to put two girls into the training program the following year.)

But Rudolph tried once more to talk his brother out of leaving. “You know Mom and Dad will worry about you,” he pleaded.

“No, they won’t. They’ve taught me well, and they know I can take care of myself.”

“But what will you do?”

“I don’t know, but there’s nothing I want to do here,” Arnold answered and turned to walk away.

“Well, will you at least stay in touch with us?” his brother asked.

Arnold turned to look at him. “Maybe,” was all he said, and headed into the forest.

ARNOLD WALKING THROUGH WOODS - flipped. WHITE SPLOTLIGHTJPGArnold walked through the quiet forest for hours, once in a while stopping to nibble on a few berries or sniff at an unusual scent that came his way. For several hours, the only sounds were the normal sounds from the other forest animals, and he was so used to them that he didn’t even pay any attention. But all of a sudden, he heard a terrible squawking coming from an area of forest up ahead of him, and he hurried his steps to see what it was all about.

He followed the sounds to a huge Spruce tree where one of his favorite Redbird friends had her home. But something strange was happening today. Several men in hard hats were surrounding the tree, examining it. Off to the side sat a huge truck with a long flat trailer on the back. Suddenly, one of the men pulled a handle on the machine he held in his hands, and the machine started groaning loudly enough to hear it on the other side of the forest. Arnold learned later that the machine was called a chainsaw, but knowing what it was didn’t make it sound any less scary.

ARNOLD HEARING BIRDS - WHITE SPOTLIGHTAt that moment, Arnold’s Redbird friend swooped down toward the man, screeching and acting as though she would attack him. A couple of her friends did the same. One of the other men picked up a large stick and started swinging at the birds.

Arnold couldn’t believe his eyes. He hurried over to the scene and called out to his friend. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “Can I help?”

“Oh, Arnold,” the Redbird cried, flying over to him, “I don’t know what to do! These men are going to cut down my tree. But my nest is there, and my little babies are just about to hatch. I can’t let them cut down my home and kill my babies. But I can’t get them moved to a safe place without building another nest, and that will take too long. What can I do? What can I do?”

The chainsaw had stopped for a minute, while the men talked together, but now it started up again. Arnold thought quickly. “I know!” he said. “I will come and lift your nest onto my antlers and carry it away safely.”

“But my nest is very high in the tree. Can you reach that high?”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” Arnold said. “My antlers are much bigger than an ordinary deer, so I will have no trouble reaching your nest and lifting it to safety.”

“That’s very kind of you, and it would get my babies out of the tree, but where can I put them? It will take me at least three days to build a new nest anywhere – and that’s if I can find the materials. Wild animals will find my babies and eat them before I can get it done.”

“No they won’t. I will keep the nest in my antlers until you build another nest. You can sit on your eggs in your nest, and when your babies are hatched, you can feed them and take care of them just the way you always do. I have nothing else to do these days, and I will enjoy being useful.

“Oh my, what a great friend you are. How can I ever thank you?”

“There’s no need. In fact, I am the one who’s grateful. I’ve been feeling rather useless lately. You see, we discovered that my antlers are way too big for me to be able to fly with St. Nick’s sleigh. They put me out of balance, and I keep heading toward the ground.” He hung his head low, and one little tear ran down his nose and dropped to the ground. “I’ve been awfully sad about it.”

“I’m very sorry, my friend,” said Redbird. “But I’m so grateful for your extra big antlers today.”

Arnold lifted his head and looked toward the big Spruce tree. “Let’s get your babies to safety,” he said and started toward the back side of the tree where he knew the nest rested. He pushed his way gently between the lower branches, stretched his neck up, and lifted the nest onto his antlers very carefully. “Now, you make sure it’s settled,” he told Redbird, and when she was satisfied her nest was lodged snugly into the antlers, she flew ahead of Arnold into a quieter, safer part of the forest.

REINDEER W. BIRDS NEST - BETTER EYE - NEUTRAL PICKERShe was able to find enough building material to build a brand new nest in a nearby tree, and by that time her babies had hatched.

Arnold was having fun with the babies hopping around in their nest and chirping loudly, wanting to be fed. He enjoyed their company, and he almost forgot about his problem with his antlers. Finally the day came when the mama Redbird was able to move her babies to the new nest.

“Arnold, my friend,” she said. “You have saved my babies lives. If there is anything I can ever do for you in return, please, please let me know.”

“It was my pleasure, Redbird. I’m so glad they are safe.” He sighed deeply. “I guess I need to be on my way,” he said, the sadness back in his voice.

“I know you’re very unhappy because you can’t pull St. Nicholas’ sleigh, but I wonder if the Creator who made all of us didn’t work it out for you to have extra large antlers because you can use them to help other animals and even people sometimes. You need to think about that, Arnold.”

“I guess,” he answered, but he didn’t really believe it. He just didn’t want to hurt Redbird’s feelings by arguing with her. “I’ll see you again sometime I hope,” he said now and started through the forest again.

“Are you going home?” Redbird asked.

“No, not right now,” Arnold said. “I just can’t go back and watch my friends training to pull the sleigh and know that I never can. Goodbye, Redbird.”

So he went on his way, and Redbird watched him, hoping he would soon learn that he had been created for things more important than just pulling a sleigh.

Two days later, Arnold heard the sound of a chainsaw again. It frightened him, because he thought maybe another bird friend was in trouble. But as he came close to the sound, it suddenly stopped, and he heard the thud of a big tree hitting the ground.

But he also heard another sound. It was not the cry of another animal. He thought it sounded like the voice of a person, so he moved toward it slowly and carefully. He had heard the voices of the men who cut down Redbird’s tree, and was used to hearing the voices of St. Nicholas and his family, so he knew what people’s voices sounded like, but this voice was smaller and lighter than men’s voices.

As he came closer to where the tree had fallen, he also heard weeping. The terrible sadness in the sound touched his heart, because he knew what it was to be so unhappy that he cried. He moved even closer and saw a little girl kneeling on the ground close to the fallen tree, crying and saying, “Daddy, please wake up. Please wake up.” Then the girl moved just enough for Arnold to see that there was a man on the ground beside her, but he was under the top part of the tree that had fallen.

MAN UNDER TREE
Of course, Arnold couldn’t understand the girl’s words. St. Nick was the only person whose words he could understand, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened here. The man had been cutting down the tree, and it had fallen in the wrong direction. People often came through this section of the forest to cut Christmas trees for their homes, but sometimes, they didn’t really know how to do it safely.

Arnold slowly made his way toward the girl. She looked up when she sensed he was beside her, and she must have been able to tell that he was not going to hurt her, because she reached out to him and touched his nose. He gently licked her hand to let her know that he was friendly, and she sniffed and said, “I wish you could help my daddy. I can’t get him to wake up.”

But just then, the man on the ground made a sound. Then he said, “Kelly, honey, are you all right?”

The little girl moved closer and touched her daddy’s face. “Daddy, I’m right here, and I’m okay, but what about you?”

“I don’t feel like I’m hurt badly, honey. I think I was just knocked out for a minute. I can feel my legs and hands and all my fingers, but I can’t move out from under this heave tree, and I can’t get to my cell phone in my pocket. I need to think of what to do.”

“I’ll go find someone to help daddy.”

“No, darling. You could easily get lost in this forest, and it’s going to start getting very cold in a couple of hours.” Kelly sniffed again and wiped more tears away, and her daddy spoke again. “You know, Kelly, we’re not really alone here. We have the Lord with us, and He promised to protect us and take care of us, so let’s pray for His help.”

“Okay, Daddy. You pray, and I’ll close my eyes and believe with you.”

“Dear Lord,” Daddy said, “in the name of Jesus, Kelly and I are praying that you will do something to get me out from under this tree and get us home to safety. We just don’t know what to do, but we know that You promise You will take care of us, so we are going to thank You right now for working everything out.”

Kelly sniffed again and finally pulled a handkerchief out of her pant’s pocket to blow her nose. Arnold felt so bad for her and for her daddy. He looked around, trying to think of a way to get them some help. Then Kelly stood up. “I’m going to try to pull on the tree, Daddy,” she said.

“No, dear. Please don’t,” he said. “To begin with, it is too heavy for you, and another problem is that if you just pull it to the side, it could cut into my legs. We need someone who can lift if up so that I can roll out from under it.”

All at once, Arnold shouted, “Hey, I just thought: my antlers are big enough and strong enough to lift the top of that tree off that man!” Of course, Kelly and her father did not understand Arnold’s words, but they heard him making excited sounds and saw him begin to circle around the fallen tree, looking things over.

Finally, he stood still, braced his four legs, and lowered his head. Then, very, very gently, he worked his huge antlers between the smaller branches of the tree until they could get hold of the main trunk at the place where it lay on the man’s legs. Next, Arnold took a deep breath and began to lift his head slowly and steadily. As he did so, the whole top of the tree came away from Kelly’s father, and he rolled out from under it and crawled completely out of the way.

“Oh, Daddy!” Kelly shouted, running to him and throwing her arms around his neck. “The deer saved you!”

Arnold gently laid the top of the tree back on the ground and turned to look at Kelly and her father. Kelly ran to Arnold then and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, you darling deer!” she said. “Thank you! Thank you! I love you for saving my ARNOLD WITH CROOKED SMILE - YELLOW - flippeddaddy.”

Arnold’s heart was about to burst. He was so happy that he had helped to save Kelly’s father, and he felt proud. Then Kelly’s father spoke again. “You know, Kelly, the Lord sent that beautiful deer to help us, and do you realize, he was here even before we prayed. How wonderful God is.”

“You’re right, Daddy. He was here before we prayed, and then after your prayer, he just walked right over there and lifted the tree.” She petted Arnold’s back and his nose and rubbed his ears. “What a wonderful friend you are,”she said, and then turning to her father, she asked, “Could we take him home with us, Daddy?”

“Oh, honey, that would not be kind. He lives in the forest and knows how to take care of himself out in nature. He was never meant to live in someone’s little bitty yard in town. He wouldn’t be happy there. The kindest thing we can do for him is let him stay here where he belongs and pray that the Lord will take very good care of him and bless him for helping us.”

He stood to his feet then and checked out both his legs to make sure they moved correctly. Then he walked over to Arnold and petted him. “Dear Lord,” he prayed, “Kelly and I thank you for sending this deer to help save us, and we ask you to bless him with a very long, happy, healthy life. Give him plenty to eat, wonderful deer friends to play with, and the best kind of life that a deer can have. Amen.”

“Amen,” said Kelly, as she hugged Arnold one more time. “Goodbye, deer. Jesus will take good care of you.” Her father patted Arnold’s head one more time, and then he took Kelly’s hand.

“I think I tried to cut down a tree that was too big for us, Kelly. We’ll go home and buy us a smaller tree for this year, and next year, maybe we can come back with more help and try cutting down a smaller tree for our house. So he and Kelly started back through the forest to head home, and Arnold watched them until they were out of sight.

“My goodness,” he said to himself, “that’s the second time I’ve been able to help save someone because of my big antlers. I’m almost glad that I have them.” But, suddenly, he remembered that he could never pull St. Nick’s sleigh on Christmas Eve, and he hung his head down again and felt sad. He also noticed that his holly wreath from Santa was missing. He must have torn it off when he squirmed in under the branch to lift it. He breathed a big sigh and started off through the forest again.

ARNOLD WALKING THROUGH WOODS 2ND TIME - CORRECTEDBut as he walked, he remembered the look on Kelly’s face when she saw her father was free from the tree. And he kept thinking about how she and her father kept petting him as if they couldn’t thank him enough. And, slowly, as he walked and thought about those things, he began to feel happier.

He began to think about how, if he had not grown such huge antlers, Redbird’s babies would have died, and Kelly and her father might have been trapped there for days before anyone found them – and then it might have been too late. And the longer he thought about it, the more he began to feel that he didn’t want to be just an ordinary reindeer with ordinary antlers.

That night, Arnold slept close to the river, and the next morning, as he was walking along the bank and stopping now and then to take a welcome drink of the clear, sweet water, he suddenly heard someone scream. By now, he was getting used to the sound of human voices, but this time, he wasn’t sure it was a human because it was so loud and sharp.

He looked downstream, but didn’t see anything. Then he moved a little so that he could look upstream a long way, and, immediately, he saw where the sound was coming from. A man and woman were in a boat coming down the river, and the man was jumping out of the boat into the ice cold water.

Arnold walked closer to the edge to see better, and that’s when he understood the problem. There was a little baby in the water. It had on a life-jacket, so it was still floating, but the water was much too cold for a little child. The baby was in great danger in water that cold, and it had been caught by the current and was being carried downstream too fast for the man to catch up to it.

ARN JUMPING RIVER # 2,EYESSuddenly, Arnold leaped into the river and started swimming toward the baby. All those months of training for pulling the sleigh had caused his leg muscles to grow very, very strong, and he had no trouble swimming against the current.

He heard the man yell something, but of course, he couldn’t understand the words He also heard the woman screaming even louder. He guessed that she was afraid he meant to harm the baby, but the thought never entered Arnold’s mind to do anything except grab the little bundle and carry it back to its mother.

It took longer than he thought to reach the child, but he finally did. Then he ducked his head beneath the water just enough to get his antlers underneath the baby, and as gently as he could, he lifted the little bundle onto his big antlers and out of the water completely. He then turned and swam as fast as he could toward the boat.

By that time the man understood that Arnold was bringing the baby back to them, so he started swimming back toward the boat himself. He and Arnold reached the boat at the same time, and as Arnold paddled along the side, the mother reached over and lifted her baby from Arnold’s antlers. “Oh, my darling little boy!” she said, as she held him close and then began to wrap him in warm dry blankets. The man got back into the boat and hugged his wife and child.

“The Lord answered our prayers, honey,” he said. “He sent this precious deer to save our David.” Then he reached over the side of the boat to pet Arnold’s head. “What a gift of God you are, little deer,” he said. And even though Arnold did not understand the words, he knew that the man was telling him how grateful he was.

By that time, Arnold was very cold himself, so he wasted no time in swimming back to land. And as soon as he could, he found a place in the sunshine where he could lie on the dry ground and let the sun get him warm. It felt very comforting on his body, and he was surprised at how fast he got dry. In fact, he was warm and comfortable in no time at all, and he fell asleep.

About an hour later, the sound of someone calling his name woke him. He looked up and turned his head in several directions, trying to figure out where the sound had come from.

“Arnold. Arnold.” There it was again. Arnold shook his head and listened carefully. That sounded like Rudolph’s voice. But surely not —

“There you are!” Rudolph shouted, coming through a thicket of bushes and heading straight for his brother.

ARNOLD & RUDOLPH BACK TOGETHERArnold jumped to his feet and ran to greet Rudolph. “Oh, Rudolph, I’m so glad to see you!”

“I couldn’t stand it another day without you, Arnold,” his brother said. “I’m so unhappy, and Mom hasn’t stopped crying since you left. Please, please come home.”

“I’m ready to come home,” said Arnold. “I have had so many adventures since I’ve been gone, and they have taught me a very important lesson.”

“Really? What have you learned?”

“I’ll explain it to everyone when we get home,” said Arnold. “Right now, let’s just hurry back home.” When they arrived safely, their mother greeted them with tears and laughter, and Dad said he was proud of Arnold for being wise enough to come back home.

SANTA LAUGHING - EDITEDEven St. Nicholas laughed and cried with joy at Arnold’s return. Then they all sat down and Arnold told them of his adventures. At the end of his tale, he said, “So I have learned that I have extra big antlers for a reason, and I am glad now that I am who I am.”

“Arnold, my young buck,” St. Nick said, “you have learned a very valuable lesson indeed. The Creator gives each one of us special gifts and special abilities to do the work that He wants us to do on this earth. No two of us are alike. And if we will just learn what our special gifts and abilities are, and be grateful for them and use them to do good for the rest of God’s creation, we will live very happy lives.”

Then St. Nick hugged Arnold’s neck tightly, and putting his other arm around Rudolph’s neck, he laughed: “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, everyone! I think this will be the Merriest Christmas we have ever had!”

And it was.

ARNOLD'S ANTLERS FOR END WITH CURVIER SMILE

THE END

~

Okay, I Give Up

HAND HOLDING I GIVE UP SIGNWell, once again, I have failed to post the next story for the Saturday writing challenges in August. My original plan, as those of you know who read the original post, was to write a story every Saturday in August featuring a man with a gun, and to invite my readers to do the same and share links to their stories.

However, as soon as I posted that challenge, my business and personal life got so busy that I have not been able to find time to sit down and write anything new at all for the past two weeks.

So I have to face the fact that this time around, the challenge is bigger than I am. I hate to say it, but I have failed to reach this particular goal. However, there are other goals ahead, and perhaps, when things slow down in other aspects of my life, I can get back to the fun of challenging myself and other writers as well.

If you’re reading this, and you wrote a story for the challenge, please go ahead and post your link in the “Comments” section of the original “Man With A Gun” challenge post.

Thanks a lot for your understanding.

~~~

 

 

‘Man With A Gun’ Hits a Snag

SMILEY - SAD FACE - PEACHI am sending out my sincerest apologies to all who want to take part in the “Man With A Gun” Saturday writing challenge. I was supposed to have posted the next story this Saturday so that others could participate and post the links to their stories on my story. However, due to a major upheaval in our family this week (nothing tragic, but an event that required my undivided attention Thursday through Sunday), I was unable to post a new story — or do any blogging of any kind.

Any of you authors out there who had a story for this weekend, please forgive me, and please don’t give up on taking part in the challenge. You can feel free to post the link to your new story on last Saturday’s story, or you can hold onto it and post it with my new story this coming Saturday, August 16.

And if you haven’t heard about the challenge yet — or haven’t decided to take part — maybe this interruption will give you a chance to think about it more and jump in.

You’re Invited to Visit My Storybook

 

 

BOOKS WITH STORYBOOK TEXT FOR BLOG

Just a reminder that you always have an open invitation to visit my ‘STORYBOOK’ on Facebook. It’s a page of stories – nothing but stories. Uninterrupted free reading of my original short stories – and even an occasional excerpt from a novel – along with the link to read the rest of the story free as well.

~

 

Tell Me A Story Saturday Writing Challenge – A Woman Scorned

 

Here’s my own story in response to my “Tell Me A Story Saturday” challenge. Just follow the link to learn how to join in the fun. This week we are writing stories of 25 words or less.

WOMAN SCORNED

 

 

 

 

 

 

A WOMAN SCORNED

Annie!  You’re attending my wedding?!”

I’m the planner.”

You?  My ex-wife?!”

Relax …. Here, this glass of champagne’s just for you …. It’ll all be over soon.”

 

 

~~~

 

Tell Me A Story Saturday — 25 Words or Less — Writing Challenge

 

BLACK TYPEWRITER - SEPIA NEGATIVE - with text

Tell me a story – any story – as long as it’s your own original work. And as long as you tell it in 25 words or less. Post your story on your blog and then hop over here and post the link to it in the “Comments” section of this page. Leave a comment too if you like. And please remember that this blog publishes only material suitable for GP audiences.

Time limit? Let’s say until next Saturday, June 21, at midnight U. S. daylight savings time.

(If you think you just can’t do it in 25 words, try anyway. You just might be surprised, and I promise not to count the words.)

Ready to write?

On your mark …

Get set …

GO!

 

 

~

 

Velvet Verbosity #382 – The Error of the ‘Ess’

 

This week’s prompt from Velvet Verbosity is the word “Heiress.”

NEWSPAPER - SEPIA

 

THE ERROR OF THE ‘ESS’

The Lincoln Herald’s executive editor glowered in Alexandra’s doorway. “Alex, I’ve told you a dozen times that you cannot use these “ess” suffixes in your stories!”

But it’s about a world-renowned heiress. What else can I call her? She certainly isn’t an heir.”

Yes, she is.”

No, she’s not. An heir is a man.”

You know the Usage Panel refuses to accept suffixes designating gender.”

But that’s crazy! Journalism’s being smothered by all this ‘political correctness!’”

Yes, true journalists are gasping for their last breath. It’s too late for me, but I’m going to save your life: you’re fired.”

 

~~~

`

 

 

 

 

Five-Sentence Fiction – ‘Anticipation’


I’ve been forgetting to try the 5-Sentence Fiction challenge the last couple of weeks. And I’m almost too late this time around. The  page says I have only about 3 hours left. The prompt this week is “Marriage,” and since I’m watching the clock, I ran to my poetry file because I remembered a poem I wrote about a year ago that had just about enough material for five sentences. The only problem was that I didn’t use sentences at all in that poem. So I borrowed the material (from my own work) and added the necessary subjects and verbs to give me five complete sentences. Whew! It’s been almost as hectic as actually getting married. My “story” is below the picture.

BRIDE AND CHILDREN - PINK

ANTICIPATION

 

Coming and going, to-ing and fro-ing, thoughts in a dither, stomach a quiver, I’m scared.

Scurrying, worrying, phoning, conversing, weighing last doubts, I still could bow out if I dared.

Checking all pockets, fastening lockets, sniffing the bouquets – fragrant sublime haze – I’m okay.

Guests in their places, smiles on their faces, music at high tide, “Here Comes the Bride”: IT’S MY WEDDING DAY!

HOORAY!

~

 

~

 

 

Tell Me a Story Saturday Challenge: ‘Love Will Find A Way’

 

I’m a couple hours past the deadline – on my own challenge – can you believe it? But, be that as it may, I have finally finished my story, so I’m ignoring the deadline. If anyone else out there still wants to write for this challenge, please feel free to do so any time this week as well – and be sure and post your link on the original challenge page.

 

 

Exif JPEG

LOVE WILL FIND A WAY

 

“Gabriel Bay Lighthouse: Antiques and Unique Gifts – Martee Somersby, Owner.” Those words were music to the ears of Gabriel Bay’s newest entrepreneur. And this business, in the renovated lighthouse, was a life-long dream come true.

The grand opening had been a huge hit, and business had been brisk ever since. She even sold fresh fruit and vegetables from local farmers, and that drew even more customers. In fact everything had gone exactly as Martee had dreamed until about three months ago, when she’d walked into the store and found the huge wooden Indian maiden gone.

The sheriff and his deputies had searched the whole store and every inch of the property. Nothing else was missing, and there had been no sign of forced entry – but not another living soul had a key.

“Why?” she asked the sheriff. “Why would anyone want to take just the wooden Indian? It wasn’t even worth much money, but I bought it because it was such a lovely piece and meant something to me.”

“Well, beats me. But I guarantee you we won’t stop until we have the thief, Miss Somersby.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I understand you keep a gun on the premises.”

“Yes, I do.

“Well, m’am, I don’t think I have to tell you to be careful with it, but if you have any more trouble, I’d sure like to think you’d call on us instead of trying to handle things yourself with a gun – if at all possible.”

“You can count on it, Sheriff,” she’d told him. “I have no desire to become some kind of heroine.”

Weeks passed, and she’d pretty well given up the hope of recovering her property. Her real sorrow wasn’t so much the money involved, but the fact that she felt particularly attached to that one item. She’d loved wooden Indians since she was a child and had seen her first one outside a modern trading post in Arizona. She’d been amazed by it, and her Grandfather had told her the history of the life-size carving.

A couple years later, while listening to the radio, she’d heard the song “Kaw-liga” — the story of a wooden Indian in front of a store who fell in love with a wooden Indian maiden in front of a neighboring. But he never declared his love — even when she was sold. Martee’s childish heart had imagined an entire story about Kaw-liga and his Indian princess, and from that day on, every place she traveled, she made it a point to look for and visit every wooden Indian statue she could find. When she’d discovered this particular carving of an Indian princess, she’d bought it without hesitation.

 

More weeks passed, and still the crime was not solved.  Martee missed her Indian princess so much that she got out her copy of “Kaw-liga” and played it over and over. In fact, she often played music in the store and included that song in the mix. People from the area sympathized with her and stopped by periodically to mull over the possibilities of what could have happened.

Today old Benny Briggs sat with her. Benny was something of a legend in his own right, known throughout the county as a “mighty-fine storyteller.” He often told of the old Indian tribes who had inhabited the region and shared many of their legends – updated a little in Benny’s own style. He sat, drinking coffee with Martee on this particular day and listening to her tell the story she’d made up in her own mind as a child about Ol’ Kaw-liga.

Finally, he said, “Well, Miss, did you ever think that maybe this here Indian maiden you had was the one Ol’ Kaw-liga was sweet on?”

“What do you mean, Benny?”

“Well,” he said, rising from his chair and putting on his hat, “I been thinkin’ about it a lot. Woudn’t surprise me none to learn that Ol’ Kaw-liga finally got tired of livin’ a life without love and came lookin’ for his maiden. Once he had his courage up, when he found her, he’d have just whisked her away.”

“You know what, Benny: no matter how many times I imagined that story, I never could end it until Kaw-liga had married his Indian maiden.”

“Well, Miss,” Benny said, opening the door and then turning back to give her a wink, “I’d say maybe you managed to believe your story enough that it came true.”

~~~

Below, you will find a video of the song “Kaw-liga.” Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

~~~

 

100-Word Challenge for Grownups # 134 – Blackbird Conversation

Julia is into birds this week on her 100-word story challenge. Here’s what she says: “I am very lucky to have a garden and even luckier that a variety of birds visit each day. At the moment we have 2/3 blackbirds who are really ruling the roost so to speak. They are beautiful song birds I know, but they are having a conversation. You can tell with the intonation of the sounds and the responses from another birds.

So, your prompt this week is to write that conversation!”

So I did. It’s below the picture.

 

BLACKBIRD ( TRI-COLORED) - PUB DOM

OVERHEARD CONVERSATION OF BLACKIE BIRD AND HIS FAMILY

 

Mama!”

Mama … we’re hungry!”

Yeah, we’re hungry.”

I’ll check on Dad’s progress.”

Honey, found anything?”

Not yet. Those dang Cardinals grab everything in sight!”

They think just because they’re so splendid to look at they should get the best of everything.”

Hey, two worms! I’ll grab ’em.”

Oh, look out! Kitty-Kitty’s comin’ at you at 2:00!”

If I run, I’ll lose the worms to the Bluejays.”

Barn-a-Bee’s on the roses. Call for help.”

Hey, Barn-a-Bee, Kitty-Kitty’s crouched to attack. Help!”

On my way. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz … SMACK!”

MEOW!!#%$!!#$%!!”

Great hit!  Right on the nose! Thanks, Barn-a-Bee, old pal. I owe you one.”

~

 

I actually got the idea for this story from a whimsical poem my mother wrote many years ago, titled “Wish I Were A Bumblebee.” You can read it at this link.

 

Photo courtesy of http://www.public-domain-image.com/blackbirds-pictures/close-up-of-a-female-tricolored-blackbird-agelaius-tricolor.jpg.html

 

~

 

 

Tell Me A Story Saturday – Writing Challenge – 5/17/14

 

It’s time for another “Tell Me a Story” Challenge. I always enjoy the 100-word writing challenges very much, and I take part in as many as I can. However, it’s also important to get good practice and exercise in writing short stories that are not “flash fiction” stories, but long enough to allow for the characters and plot to be more fully developed.

That’s why I generally offer a challenge that allows for at least 500 words. This week I am suggesting that the work can be as much as 700 words and still be acceptable.

Your assignment – should you choose to participate – is to “Tell Me A Story” — in prose or poetry either one — that includes the following FOUR things:

1. A Lighthouse

OLDTOWN LIGHTHOUSE - PDPHOTOS

 

2. Fresh Vegetables

FRESH VEGETABLES FOR STORY

 

3. A Wooden Indian

Exif JPEG

 

4. YOUR CHOICE of a Gun – OR – a Set of Wedding Rings

GUN - BLUE

 

 

engage - wedd rings

 

Be sure and note that you have a choice for the 4th item. Use the gun OR the set of wedding rings, but not both.

Post your story on your own blog and hop over here to leave the link to it in the “Comments” section. Try to come back and check out stories by the other writers as much as you can.

Any length up to 700 words is acceptable, and the challenge will close Saturday, May 24, 2014, at 12:00 Midnight U. S. Central Daylight Savings Time.

Please remember that my blog is G/PG in nature.

Happy Writing!

 

 

~~~

 

Writing Challenge: The 25-Word Story

WOMAN AT COMPUTER - HAPPY

 

Well, my jolly blogging buddies, I have a new wee challenge for you this morning. Most of us have heard the story that at one point in his career, the writing legend Ernest Hemingway accepted a challenge to write an entire story in just six words. I don’t know that anyone knows the exact details of how that challenge came about, but the 6-word story attributed to him is the following: 

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Now, I’m issuing a challenge that is not quite as onerous as the one he met. And, in fact, it’s the same challenge I gave my college-level creative writing students this week: Write a complete story in only 25 words (or less if you prefer). You may choose the subject matter. 

You have one week to accomplish this task. Final post day, April 10 (although I have no objection to your posting a story at any time after that if you feel so inclined). When your story is complete, simply post it on your own blog, then copy and paste a link to it in the “Comments” section of this post.  Leave a comment too if you’d like.

Please be sure to include a link to this post on your own site as well, so that your readers can learn about the challenge and take part too.  And hop over during the week to check out the links to other writers’ stories.

Also, please remember that this site is open to readers of all ages, so it posts absolutely no “R” or “X” rated material. 

If you’re interested in participating but do not have a personal blog, feel free to post your story on your Facebook page or your LinkedIn page. (It’s short enough to go into the update window.) Then copy and paste the link in the “Comments” here.

When I write my own story, I’ll give it a separate post and paste a link here on this page with the rest of yours. 

Are you ready?  Let’s write!

 

~~~

 

 

~~~

 

 

Joseph’s Decision — a short, short story

This story originally appeared on my blog last year, but only for a short time. I decided to enter it in a writing contest, and the rules of the contest required me to remove it from my public blog until the results were in. Now that the contest is over, I am posting the story anew. It did not find enough favor with the contest judges to be declared a winner, but no matter: it’s a winner to me.

RYAN AT COMPUTER - DARKENED

JOSEPH’S DECISION

Joseph sat on the bus, staring out the window, unseeing for the first twenty minutes. His mind just needed rest. So much data – so many words – such volatile emotions – too much to deal with right now. His eyes hurt from the glare of the sun, and he needed to close them for a while. Not yet, though. He couldn’t let himself – not so soon. He couldn’t bear to close himself up in his own private world – his own private hell. Not yet. He had to keep his eyes open so that light and color and motion would bombard his mind for at least a little while longer.

The knot in his chest had loosened some. Maybe that was due in part to the even rhythm of the moving bus and the almost imperceptible sound of the wheels against the hot pavement – things, no doubt, completely unnoticed by the majority of the passengers. But Joseph noticed. He seemed especially attuned to sounds and movement in a new way today. All of it seemed amplified somehow. He let out a deep sigh. I’m probably amplifying them in my own imagination, he thought, to keep my mind off the bitter news I just got.

Finally, thanks to the gentle rocking of the bus, he leaned his head against the back of the seat and let his eyelids drift shut. Another deep sigh. Okay, Joseph, it’s time to deal with it. You can do it, Joe.

He took a deep breath. There, that’s better. Another deep breath. That’s it, Joe. Slow and easy – in – and out – in – and out. See, you’re still alive and breathing. Nothing’s changed all that much.

His thoughts drifted back to Dr. Samuels’ office. He shivered slightly at the memory of how cold he’d felt sitting there on the examination table in just his undershirt and shorts. The sterile smell of the room still clung to his nostrils, and his mind replayed images of the signs on the walls describing various ailments and reminding doctors to wash their hands. He’d read every sign at least a dozen times over the past few years and knew them by heart, but he still read them every time. It was something to do while he waited for Dr. Samuels, and it kept his mind occupied so that he didn’t concentrate on how uncomfortable he always felt in doctors’ offices.

Prior to today’s appointment, he’d imagined numerous possible scenarios and played them over in his mind. Dr. Samuels might say this … and then I would say that … or … maybe he’ll tell me this, and I’ve already made up my mind what my answer will be to that. He closed his eyes a little tighter, stifling a low, mirthless chuckle. Funny – I never – not once – even considered a report like the one I got.

He felt something jostle his arm, so he opened his eyes, looking toward the empty seat on his left. A small, elderly lady had just sat down, and her purse had bumped his arm. “Oh, excuse me,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

He sat up a little straighter and gave his head a slight shake, hoping to clear it. He hadn’t even noticed the bus had stopped. He glanced out the window and realized they had already come half way to his destination. One more stop, and then he’d be at his own jumping off place. Home. It used to always give him a warm feeling to walk up the small concrete sidewalk, step up onto the little porch alcove with the rose trellis on either side, and open his front door to the cozy living room/office where he devoted hours to the work he loved so well.

Writing was his life – had been ever since his young adulthood. There had never been a marriage. He had hoped there would be a time or two, but it hadn’t worked out. And he wasn’t too sad about it. He had a good life – great friends – great audiences for his books – and a family of his own making. The characters that populated his best-selling novels had been born out of him, hadn’t they? And he loved them – everyone of them – even the villains. And many had been the days when he had rushed home, bursting through the front door with ideas literally pouring from his brain faster than he could get to the keyboard and turn them into words.

Well, Joe, it won’t be the same anymore. Everything’s changed now. He focused on the passing scene outside the window. He read a sign on one of the buildings. Then he read a street sign … and another. The bowling alley sign came next. He was seeing all of them for the zillionth time, but he read every word on every one. He had to keep himself from thinking anymore right now.

Finally the sign for his own stop came into view. As the driver made the announcement and slid the bus to a smooth stop, Joseph began to rise from his seat, but, suddenly, he realized his legs felt like lead. He sat back down momentarily, and the lady beside him looked concerned. “Are you all right, sir?”

He made a quick recovery and tried to smile at her. “Y – yes,” he answered. “I think my leg went to sleep. I’ll try to get up more slowly.”

He knew there was nothing wrong with his ability to walk. It was the result of the shock he’d had. The trauma of the news had been enough to shock a better man than he was. He focused all of his mental reserves on making his legs function normally, and finally managed to get up and move out into the aisle. From there, he moved by rote down the steps and through the door to the sidewalk.

As he started down the walk to the next block and his own house, he was amazed that everything around him looked exactly the same. The street looked the same. The traffic whizzed by as usual. The few people he passed looked normal. They spoke a word of greeting and smiled just as if he hadn’t changed at all. Yet his entire world had been wiped out with one simple sentence less than an hour ago.

The roses smelled the same as he stepped onto his porch and inserted his key in the lock. Stepping into the room, he let his eyes search out all the pieces of furniture and equipment that provided his comfortable, peaceful, productive life. He closed the door behind him and walked farther into the room. You’re home Joe. Really home … and it hasn’t changed a bit. It’s exactly the way you left it.

He started to genuinely relax for the first time since he’d stepped into Dr. Samuels’ office three hours ago. He pulled off his jacket, yanked his tie loose, and tossed it on the chair after the jacket. He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of his favorite juice, downing half of it in one drink. His stomach had been so knotted up when he’d left the doctor’s office that he hadn’t even tried to get lunch. In fact, he’d thought he could never eat or drink again. But he took another drink now. It felt really good going down. And, come to think of it, one of those frozen dinners he’d stocked up on yesterday sounded downright appetizing.

He kicked off his shoes, ambled over to the computer desk, and sat down. Touching the mouse, he focused on the screen. There it was: the new baby – novel number thirty-one – bright and shiny and full of life – staring right back at him from the screen with the familiar challenge that compelled him to create another chapter and another and another. Every word was a part of him – his offspring. Yes, this was life to him. This was all he needed.

Other thoughts tried to intrude, but he kept pushing them aside. Finally, at one point, he got up and walked to the wall on which he kept his main calendar. He stared at it. Dr. Samuels had said, “Six months at the outside. Maybe not that long. I’m indescribably sorry, Joe.”

Joseph reached up and ripped the calendar off the wall. He tore it in half and tossed in into the waste basket as he spoke out loud in response to the words of the medical report: “What is time, anyway, Doc? It’s all relative, isn’t it? Why, I’ve given hundreds of characters entire lifetimes in less than six months.”

He walked back to the computer and placed his hands on the keyboard again. “Sorry, Doc … I’ve got too many lives depending on me right here in this keyboard. I just don’t have time to die.”

~~~

~~~

Velvet Verbosity #367 — Lunch with Xavier

I haven’t taken part in the Velvet Verbosity writing challenge previously, but I read Dawn Miller’s entries all the time, and it always sounds interesting, so this week I decided I should jump in as well. The prompt was the word “Lunch.” If you’d like to take part, you’ll find the host of the challenge and the rules at this link:
http://www.velvetverbosity.com/blog/2014/2/24/100-words-367-more-on-trains-and-writing

TABLE SETTING - PUB DOM - MUSEUM - LIGHTENED

LUNCH WITH XAVIER

Victoria had a lunch date – in a city where no one knew her. Sweating hands, butterflies – it was guilt. But why? After all, her husband Arnold had stopped making love to her, even stopped talking to her. She had to look for love and excitement elsewhere – like the Internet — and she’d used a fictitious name.

Excitement replaced fear now as she remembered that Xavier was the complete opposite of Arnold. Every word of his e-mails made her feel like a real woman again. Her heart pounded as she followed the maitre d’ to Xavier’s table for their initial meeting. Xavier stood and faced her:

Victoria!”

Arnold!!!”

 

~~~

~~~