Notable Quotes: Special New Years Edition – January 2018 #pinterest #quotes


Happy New Years! As I put this piece together we have about ten minutes to go in Alberta, Canada. Mother Nature, as she did in many parts of the world, decided to make it more than minus forty degrees Celsius with the wind chill so most of the New Years events here were cancelled.

The fireworks, I believe were still happening, but they were supposed to be earlier this year for families and kids, but I didn’t hear any fireworks popping and crackling yet. I usually do from where we live. Anyways I hope you enjoyed your New Years celebrations tucked snug in your home, at a party, or at New Years events. Wishing you all much happiness and joy.

So, here we go . . . Oh the fireworks have started. 🎉 Some of these quotes are a bit cheeky, as well.


1. Credit: Pinterest.com


2.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


3.

Credit: Pinterest.com


4. <<<<
it: Pinterest.com


5.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


6.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


7.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


8.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


9.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


10.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


11.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


12.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


13.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


14.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


15.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


16.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


17.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


18.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


19.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


20.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


21.

<<<<
it: Pinterest.com


22. <<
edit: Pinterest.com


23. o

Credit: Pinterest.com


24. <<
edit: Pinterest.com


25. <<
edit: Pinterest.com


© Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

#NovemberNotes Day 23/ Tale Weavers: Part Two — The End of The Affair #taleweavers #amwriting #fiction


For November Notes Day 23 the song prompt is “Heal Over”by K.T. Tunstall and I’m combining with Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Taleweavers prompt on dust.

Credit: Rhianon Lassila via Unsplash


“Heal Over” by K.T. Tunstall


Read Part One HERE.

Giselle didn’t leave her house until the afternoon. Later, she threw on her down-coat and ran outside into the frigid winter to her midnight Honda. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. Also, she decided she needed to be among people, having a few drinks. She couldn’t let herself regret turning Jimmy away.

Her body began shaking as she sat in the Honda’s drivers seat and wept. She was over Jimmy, she’d been over him for a year. He had the nerve to call me Gigi! He had the nerve to ask for me back because Jasmine didn’t want him! Giselle’s crying ended as the warmth from her heated car soothed her body and made her forget the morning’s events.

As she wiped her cheeks the distinct ringtone “Heal Over,” played on Giselle’s iPhone. Her friend Beth was checking in on her. She didn’t think she could talk to her without crying so she waited until Beth’s ringtone stopped. Then, Giselle texted her:

Jimmy was by, Jasmine divorced him. He said he had no one and that he wanted me back. I told him to get lost. Can we go for a drink?

A couple of minutes later Beth replied:

I’m so glad you told him off. He was never good for you. Meet me at the Tavern Grill in 15 minutes, K?

Giselle had been sitting in the Tavern’s bar for a half of an hour when Beth arrived. She was also finished margarita number two. “Have one of these Beth, they’re are awesome. They make you want to dance, sing, and forget everything.”

Beth snorted. “You never could hold your liquor.”

She shrugged. ” I was fine, then, early this morning Jimmy appeared at my door. I saw it was him knocking and I thought he’d go away. After a half-an-hour he began ringing my doorbell and wouldn’t stop. I had to talk to him, but I didn’t let him in the house.”

Giselle brushed her side-bangs out of her eyes.” I don’t blame Jasmine for divorcing him. I would’ve left the cheating b*stard too — if I had known he was married when we were dating. I don’t know how I could’ve missed it, thinking back; I was so naive.”

Beth laughed, ” It was too hard to tell you that Jimmy was a cheating b*stard a year ago. It seemed that you couldn’t escape the trail of dust and destruction Jimmy left you in; it was a perpetual cycle for you guys. It was a relief when he broke it off with you. And yes, you were naive, but not anymore.”

“It was painful when Jimmy chose Jasmine. I felt so stupid and I didn’t know my heart could hurt like that. It was six-months before I felt normal again.”

Beth sighed, tapping her nude-pink manicured nails. “Breaking up with you was the best thing Jimmy ever did. When you texted me I was afraid you were going to say you two had made up.”

“Never.”

“Awesome, Jimmy’s not a good guy and never will be.”

Giselle nodded but Beth grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Do not go back to him, Gigi. Don’t take his calls. Avoid him at all costs. Be strong like you were this morning; you owe him nothing.”

“I’m done with Jimmy, Beth. Truly, I mean it.”

She patted Giselle’s hand. “Look lady, sometimes life is hard and it’s gonna take time to forget about the good times with Jimmy. But you’ve been without him a year and you’re gonna be fine. So, in the meantime, let’s order another few margaritas and some appetizers. Let’s celebrate severing your last connection to Jimmy.”

Giselle raised her third margarita. “Cheers, to that. But you don’t have to wipe my tears away, Beth, I’m a big girl.”

“I know you are but I’m your friend. I’m here to remind you, you’re gonna keep healing and soon, Jimmy will be a distant memory.”


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: The Weeping Willow and The Rabbit #amwriting #flashfiction #talltales


Thanks to Bastet for hosting Saturday Mix on MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. Today’s theme is ‘Tall Tales.’ 

——

Credit: GSK 16

——-

The sky was falling in large drops of blue glass. The weeping willow was the first to notice so she cried. Her tears gathered creating a river with the drops from the sky. 

A mighty rabbit hopped by, he was a bit confused as to where all this water was coming from. 

“Ms. Willow why are you crying a river?” he asked. 

“I’m a weeping willow and the sky is falling haven’t you noticed?” 

The rabbit nodded, “Well yes of course it falls. Each time it rains, snows, or hails, the sky falls.” 

“You need to stop crying. You’re going to drown everyone in your tears. I’m the  king of all animals, you better listen to me.” 

“Why?” 

“My friend is a massive blue ox named Babe. His friend named Paul chops down trees for a living.” 

The willow immediately stopped weeping and the rabbit’s triumphant roar was heard throughout the forest. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: An Adventure Alone #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

——

Credit: Sascha Darlington

——-

Six-year-old James was excited. He was at a giant amusement park with a fascinating complex modular domes. He tried to rush past his parents but his Dad grasped James’ hand firmly. 

They entered the first dome and there was a huge race track inside. James squeeled while driving with his Dad in a go-kart. The next dome had a mini-golf course. Half-way through the course James decided he was bored and that it was time for his adventure alone; he crept off when his Dad was putting. 

He spent his day playing in a giant indoor playground and then went outside to where there were rides for kids to go on. He made friends with another boy named Paul whose parents thought James had permission to ride rides with them. 

After a while James felt sick because he hadn’t eaten. He returned to the mini-golf course to wait for his Dad. He sat there for hours but he never saw his parents. He thought they had decided they didn’t want him.

 Then he heard his Mom’s angry voice: “James William, where have you been?” He hugged his Mom and cried into his Dad’s shoulder when he picked James up. It appeared his adventure alone was more than James had bargained for. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Interview With David Pebbles


Welcome back to my bi-weekly interview series. I’m not sure where you are in the world, but here it’s November and winter has set in –well not quite but it’s coming. Last year we were lucky to have such a warm winter but it doesn’t seem nature is going to be so kind to Alberta this year.

I’m pleased to introduce you this week, to the wonderful, talented, and forthright David Pebbles or Olaleye Abyomi Immanuel. He is a thoughtful guy with a passion for his faith in God and Christianity. You can visit his blog here: David Pebbles Blog: Faith, Musings, Inspiration Towards a God Centred Lifestyle.


david-pebbles-logo
David Pebbles

david-pebbles
David Pebbles

1 . Please Tell Us About Yourself?

My name is Olaleye Abayomi Immanuel (David Pebbles). I’m a Nigerian from the south western part of Nigeria and I’m a proud son of the state that had an anthem before Nigeria – Ogun State. I am not someone given to taking pictures, as I find it awkward and too strenuous. But for the sake of the interview I will let you have a picture (above). 

I am a Christian that is extremely passionate about God, life, and the intriguing delight which comes from pursuing one’s vision and calling in life. I am a graduate of Building Construction Technology and also a tech and gadget enthusiast.

I am also a multi-pod with a positive mental posture and outlook on life, a voracious reader, and lover of people. I can be quiet or talkative depending on the situation and the people around me but mostly, I consider myself an introvert. I am also a hard worker especially with beliefs, activities, and hobbies I am passionate about.


3. When Did You Begin Writing and Blogging?

I never knew I would become a blogger someday. I have always been a scribbler and voracious reader since I can remember. I would save my lunch money to buy novels. While I was growing up, if you were looking for any missing books, magazines, or anything readable, they could all be found in my room.

I always write things down anywhere I’m able. Most of my scribbling is actually anecdotes, words of wisdom, and thoughts that I had earlier thinking about reading something. Sometimes novels but most often verses found in The Bible. Being a quiet person gives me ample time to read The Bible alongside a dictionary while I jot down thoughts or insights I gain while reading God’s Word.

I think began blogging intensely, commenting on blogs I read for a start. The first time I commented on a blog, I was skeptical if what I wrote was intelligible. Then, I wished I could erase my comment but unfortunately, I had clicked the send button. I prayed quietly in my mind that the writer of the blog wouldn’t approve my comment.

I declined to view the post again, until late at night three-days later. It took all the mountainous courage to look at the comment I had made. My comment had five likes! I was on cloud nine. 

That was in 2014. Proceeding the comment, I opened up a blogger account on WordPress which didn’t get used at first as I was too scared of figuring out the whole blogging thing; however, I returned to my blog and began blogging often in November 2015. It has been an awesome experience. WordPress bloggers are so nice, supportive, and great bloggers all around.


“I never knew I would become a blogger someday. I have always been a scribbler and voracious reader since I can remember. I would save my lunch money to buy novels. While I was growing up, if you were looking for any missing books, magazines, or anything readable, they could all be found in my room.” – David Pebbles


4. What Does Writing and Poetry Mean To You And Why Do You Write?

Originally I wrote because I was bored and as a medium of escape from my solitary lifestyle. However, as time goes on, writing to me has become an extension of the intricacies that lie in the depth of my soul.

Writing to me means being receptive and bringing to materialization the billions of universal clues, images, sounds, and thoughts floating around the universe; these things can elude an unperceptive person.Writing is about demonstrating values, being encouraging, motivating people, and inspiring others to make positive changes to themselves and their environment.

Poems come naturally to me, even more than long form. I didn’t realize I could write poems at first. The first poem I wrote titled: “Unwanted,” was borne out of beliefs on abortion. I cried while writing the poem because it came from deep within me. It was as if I was an aborted baby.


“Writing to me means being receptive and bringing to materialization the billions of universal clues, images, sounds, and thoughts floating around the universe; these things can elude a unperceptive person.Writing is about demonstrating values, being encouraging, motivating people, and inspiring others to make positive changes to themselves and their environment.” – David Pebbles


5. Where Do You Find Inspiration and Motivation to Write?

Mostly my inspiration to write comes during my private worship time. Also inspiration for me comes from the Holy Spirit after reading a good book. Sometimes I don’t have any inspiration but immediately I place my hand on my computer keyboard or made up my mind to post something (of which I have no premeditation about) and inspiration flows through the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes I find inspiration while walking down the street, while eating, or on a public bus; honestly, inspiration could be anywhere. When such inspiration comes, I immediately stop what I am doing to safeguard those line of inspired thoughts


6. Is There A Time Of Day You Most Enjoy Writing? Do You Have Any Future Projects You’re Considering?

My writing time is flexible; I for one don’t fancy regimented writing. Sometimes I write early in the morning, in the middle of the day, and sometimes late at night.

I have few writing projects I’m currently working on. Among them is the launching of an online magazine that focuses on Christian youths in general. I am passionate about self-development in youth. There are other projects of which I am thinking about how to express.


“Sometimes I don’t have any inspiration but immediately I place my hand on my computer keyboard or made up my mind to post something (of which I have no premeditation about) and inspiration flows through the guidance of the Holy Spirit.” – David Pebbles


8. Do You Have Any Published Works or Are You Working On Publishing Anything?

I have about four unpublished books and two finished drafts.One manuscript is currently being reviewed by an editor. Hopefully by December, my one book should be published. The other books will follow suit in time.


9. Can You Briefly Describe the Process You Are Experiencing While Publishing?

The first task after you have a final manuscript you’re happy with is to to send it to an editor and also to send some copies of your manuscript to trusted writing friends for review. From what I learnt from someone who had his book published, marketing is always the hardest part of publishing, especially for those that self-publish.

I am still considering the many platforms where I can make my books available. I do fancy an e-format before a hard copy book. I believe that when the times comes, it will go well with me and I will find the right platforms and ways to market my book. I want the book available to as many people as possible because probably, it will be free.


” I am still considering the many platforms where I can make my books available. I do fancy an e-format before a hard copy book. I believe that when the times comes, it will go well with me and I will find the right platforms and ways to market my book.” – David Pebbles


10. What is Your Writing Process Like?

The process can be as easy as slicing bread or sleety as making a Chapman. If I already have an idea to post, I will build on my writing making corrections along the way. Personally, writing and posting doesn’t take me more than a few hours even when I don’t have a  lead on what to write.

Often, as ideas or inspirations occur, I will write, edit, and post, a piece within a few hours. I hate the torment of unpublished ideas or inspired thoughts and not being able to express them. Basically, I write as I think and thankfully enough I usually don’t need much editing on my posts.


11. Do You Prefer Certain Genres of Literature?

I am mostly into Christian literature which could be about relationships or motivational writings and poems; a quick view of my blog will reveal this. I believe in maximizing your strong point. This is my base in writing. So much of my writing tends to be nonfiction and more personal.

I struggle with any other types of writing especially fictional. I’ve becoming much better at sharing nonfiction stories. I have no favorites but based on the number of views I have shared some below.


“Often, as ideas or inspirations occur, I will write, edit, and post, a piece within a few hours. I hate the torment of unpublished ideas or inspired thoughts and not being able to express them. Basically, I write as I think and thankfully enough I usually don’t need much editing on my posts.” – David Pebbles


12. Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers and Bloggers?

Only two people I know, know I blog and they are random people I met in church. Nobody knows I blog from my immediate family. It’s a personal decision which has helped me a lot. I might plan to tell my family in future or they could find out themselves.

When I started blogging, I received no advice from anyone because I knew no one to look to for advice. But being a fast learner and playing around WordPress helped me a great deal initially.

Also when you write I would encourage writers to be their unique self. Don’t write to impress anybody even when you don’t have a single like or comment on your posts. Also, interact with other bloggers and don’t be a loner. Consistently writing is also a useful habit to take up.


13. Is There Anything Else You Would Like To Share About Yourself?

You can read more about me here on my blog: About David Pebbles


14. Please Share With Us Some Of Your Writing From Your Blog:

I find it difficult to pick a favourite piece from my writing as I could picture all of them with their hands raised up because they might feel hurt if not chosen. But all the same, l will pick some pieces randomly:

Musings #23 – When You Worship

By David Pebbles

When you worship
Deep relief seared your souls
Tears respond in snaky path
Washing down the earnest
Of the yearnings wrap up
A squeeze from the dailies
Twisted and tumultuous origin
Sunken deep
As if all once, warm presence embrace
Wrap up in such blessedness
You only response is tears


15. Here I Some More Links To Work On David’s Blog:


Thank you to David for the interview. I appreciate his willingness to be interviewed and answer so candidly and honestly each question. Once again, here is the link to David’s blog: David Pebbles Blog.


If you would be like to be interviewed about blogging or writing and would like to share with other writers, bloggers, and readers your unique writing process, please reach-out to me through my Contact Page. See You in Two -Weeks 🙂


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Tale Weavers Prompt: Poem – Octelle – “Story Line Wrote”


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this weeks prompt — Paper Back Writer:

” What is your great novel/novella/collection of short/flash fiction/poetry/ pulp paperback/graphic novel? Of course, you don’t have to write it, just write about it.

Weave any sort of tale;  in the abstract or concrete; as you or a character of yours; being accepted for publication; editing process; book tours – remember you ‘just wanna be a paperback writer.'”


paperbackwriter
Credit: http://www.revolutions5.com

I’m still working on a novel called: How Was Last Night For You? I’m editing it in second draft. Still a lot of work to do and haven’t had the time to work on it lately. This Octelle poem illustrates the story line roughly:


She wants love, but it keeps slipping,

Through her fingers, the Sirene dripping.

She’s a regular girl, too kind,

Believes in people and magic finds —

In her paranormal world sound,

Curses, mermaids, sea witch found.

Nina narrator, life gripping,

Focus and ire of a mer-witch.


John wasn’t smart at twenty-five,

Lied about girl, she cursed him live.

Where ever he wondered,

Strange events encountered.

People got hurt, women injured.

No love; witch’s wrath incurred.

Sees Nina drinking Flirtinie,

Sparks, passion, between them ignite.


A mermaid she is, sea witch too,

She’s experienced pain, heart broke through —

Victorian romance; cad —

He’d a mistress, kids they had.

Clued in after his death –cried,

Traveled, came home to new guy.

Adare never changed, men still lie.

No broken girl now -she’s Talise.


Characters wrote, story occurs,

Talise hates Nina — it’s inferred.

She cursed John left his soul burnt,

She wants John back, she’s a flirt.

Evil, she’ll never gain him through,

Her magic; Nina loves John true.

Witch’s wrath, all will suffer –die?

No one can say; writer yet edits.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Friday Fictioneers: No Place Is Like Home #flashfiction #amwriting


Thank you to Rochelle for hosting. 

Friday Frictioneer’s is a Flash Fiction photo prompt, completed in 100 words. 

——

Image Credit: Amy Reese

——–

Addison felt she never had a place to call home. Her Mom abandoned her family. Her Dad an oil worker, sent his three children enough money to pay rent, some food, some water, and some electricity each month; he never visited. 

She paid bills online in the school library; her family had a tight budget. Providing clothes or school supplies for herself and her siblings was difficult. Addison lied about her age and waitressed at a fancy restaurant. When she was nineteen, the state took away Addison’s siblings. 

She began dating a wealthy businessman. Addison had money to pay tuition, money to party on weekends, money to shop, and her own BMW; she even lived in a modern loft. 

She wasn’t content, “No place has been home but one,” she told me. 

We drove to a storage facility and walked to her unit. Opening the door she showed me a well designed and comfortable suite hidden in the unit. 

“I stay her a lot,” she said sniffling and sat on the bed, crying. I tried to comfort Addison. 

It’s only, some people never receive out of life, what they truly need. 

——-

A bit long, sorry. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challange: Poem – Licentia – “Sometimes My Love” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge.

——-

fineart-photos.tumblr.com

 

———-

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro, 

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown,

Over the clothes line, pinning; they’ll smell like sunshine,

Dried by cool wind tonight, they’ll sway on clothes line.

I’m but a shadow, I pass my sheets humming,

A lonely tune, for my life’s solitude humbling.

I’m only a women, my husband says I’m less,

Bruises left, hands tremble, he gives no respect.

In this backwards world, it’s difficult to say,

How we were in love, how war made him this way.

We used to lie in the sun,  beneath us grain, barley.

Now he says, “Stay inside;” I know him now hardly.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro, 

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown. 
——-

There once was a dance, that took place in time

Soldiers came, handsome in crisp uniform’s shine.

Caught girls’ eyes; they wore rouge, lipstick, their best gowns.

Swing music played, we danced, eyes caught mine, brown.

Laughter in chocolate gaze, “Get her a drink, eh?”

Night passed slowly, dipping me, we kissed and swayed.

We meant up again, and again, dreaming life,

One we shared; us blossomed –there’s always a price.

We both suffered strongly, fools were we of war,

Injured men, maimed men, limbs lost, minds lost, sore.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro, 

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown.

——-

War would end, countless unknown dead; you crumbled, 

So lost; letters sent, none returned, war humbles. 

You couldn’t handle what you’d seen and did, came home,

Ran to you, you held me close, cried so much, roamed –

Town, as other’s alive, –ghosts of war haunting,

We bought the farm, your vengeance rose, me you taunt.

By your past demons, by your bruising punch and yet,

They’re times you are you, before war changed you, set —

Course for man, so angry at life, he curses well —

His wife; sometimes he’s my love, other’s my hell.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro,

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown.

——-

“The Licentia Rhyme Form, a poetic form created by Laura Lamarca, consists of at least three – 12-line stanzas with 11 syllables per line. Of course, the poem can be elongated adding on to the following rhyme scheme: aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA. The Licentia Rhyme Form is named after Laura Lamarca’s signature, “La” and “Licentia” is Latin for “Freedom”.” – Shadow Poetry

——–

I’m not sure if this is completely right for the form. I think lines ‘bb’ for instance are supposed to be exactly repeated in lines ‘BB,’ not just rhyme with them. The same for lines ‘cc’ and ‘CC’ etc… But I like the poem like this right now!

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Still His #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

—–

A Mixed Bag

——

Caden wasn’t sure how he arrived at the park; his feet had walked themselves there. He sat on a park bench feeling empty and worthless. In front of him sat an old Chinese stove, but he gave it little thought. 

He’d lost Caroline for real this times and Caden didn’t know how to get her back. Lyrics from the song playing in the pub as she walked away from him, were on a continuel loop in his mind; she loved that song. He sighed, begging his mind to forget the painful lyrics.

“She’s imperfect but she tries, she is good but she lies. She is hard on herself, she is broken and won’t ask for help. She is messy but she’s kind, she’s is lonely –most of the time. She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie; she is gone but she used to be mine.” 

Caden hadn’t ever felt so low. What did a man do when the woman he thought he’d stay with forever disappeared and wouldn’t talk to him? 

No one seemed to know where Caroline was. He had almost cried in front of her Dad saying he only wanted to apologize and win her back. Caroline’s Dad patted Caden on the back saying,”Things will get better soon.” 

Caden stared at the odd Chinese Stove wondering what its purpose was. He attempted to distract himself with the stove as the lyrics from that damn song floated back to him:

“If I’m honest I know I would give it all back for a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two. For the girl that I knew who’ll be reckless just enough, who’ll get hurt but, who learns how to toughen up when she’s bruised . . . she is gone but she used to be mine.” 

Caden pressed his hands against his ears, trying to block the words out. 

Suddenly, Caroline was standing in front of him, “How did you get here?” He asked her.

She gazed at him, “You look horrible Caden. Did I do that to you?” 

He gasped shocked at seeing her, truly there now sitting beside him. Caden couldn’t hold back, he cried into Caroline’s neck as she stroked his hair; he held onto her tightly. 

“I thought you would never forgive me,” he said. 

“It’s alright,” she crooned to him, “I’m not leaving you ever again.” 

Caroline was still Caden’s girl. 

——-

Sara Barielles – “She Used to Be Mine” 

——-

Lyrics from AZlyrics Sara Barielles Lyrics.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Some Things Don’t Mix Like You Hoped


Sierra knew she shouldn’t be driving but she hadn’t been drinking since 1:00 am. The last song in the bar by Tim McGraw, played over in Sierra’s head: “Diamond Rings and Old Barstools.”

Sierra had been terribly upset at the end of the evening. Leaving quickly, when she spotted an old ex-boyfriend in the crowd. Casper’s clear green eyes had met Sierra’s intense blue and Sierra had fought her way through the crowd to the door.

Casper wasn’t any old boyfriend. He had broken Sierra’s heart ending their engagement two-years ago for no valid reason.

Sierra darted into the frosty morning and started her car. As she drove away she saw Casper standing outside the bar doors, staring at her car.

Sierra blinked with heavy eyes. The road ahead was blurred, shiny with odd lights, and the sun appeared to be rising . She checked her phone it read 6:15 am; Sierra had been driving aimlessly for three -hours.

She thought of Casper while driving into the morning sun. Lines from the Tim McGraw song came back to her: “I guess some things don’t mix like you hoped / Like me and you /  And Diamond rings and old barstools.” 

Tears leaked out of Sierra’s eyes, falling down her cheeks. She began crying so hard she had to pullover.” [S]ome things don’t mix like you hoped . . .” 

—–

 

http://www.publucdomainarchive.com
 
——-

“Diamond Rings and Old Barstools” – Tim McGraw

——-

Thanks to Roger Shipp fo hosting FFftPP.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.