Tale Weavers: Poem – Synchronicity – “Safe” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry #BellLetsTalk


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt which is: a story through the eyes of a child. 

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Credit: UnSplash

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Mommy you let go my hand, I’m quick–

Mere seconds pass, I’m laughing freely, 

I run. 

—–

Mommy, I’m giggling what it is —

Feeling free, everyone looks at me, 

Smiling.

—–

Down the aisles of Superstore, 

You’ve lost me, can you find me now? 

I’m fast.

——-

Boxes, packages to pull down, 

Grinning, happy, into candy, 

Sitting —

——-

Waiting for me on the shelf are —

My favourite chocolate and gummies;

Mommy? 

——

Where’d you go? I think I’m lost, 

I’m scrunching my face, tears begin, 

Where’d you —

——-

Go? Mommy; don’t leave me here now, 

Some lady grabbed my hand and —

It hurts.

——

She won’t let go, dragging me off, 

Stranger danger; no one helps me,

Let Go! 

*****

It’s okay now, Mommy is here

Holding you close, grabbing your hand;

She runs.

——

Scared I’ll turn her in and I should, 

Who tries to kidnap a child in —

Daylight? —

——–

 At all? Cannot trust, stay near me, 

Now you know why and you’re safe, 

From harm.

—–

Mommy will never let you go, 

Her precious boy, her sweet sunshine, 

Is hers.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
 

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Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: Grocery Store Stranger


Thanks to Nortina from Lovely Curses for hosting this writing challenge. Today’s moral prompt is: “Never talk to Strangers.”

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http://www.retailindustry.about.com
 

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(True Story)

When I was three-years old, I remember grocery shopping at Superstore with my Mom. I loved it at Superstore because it had widely spaced aisles I could run in.

I went down one aisle behind my Mom and an old woman who reminded me of my Grandma, asked me my name and we started talking.

Suddenly, the lady grabbed my hand and started pulling me away with her. 

I thought she was going to kidnap me but my Mom was watching and wrested my hand out of the lady’s hand and said, “No, she’s my daughter.” The woman took off.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Kidnapped


“What is this place?” Alec asked. 

“Oh, um, meeting someone here, is that okay?” Robert said.

“I guess, so man.” Why did you have to meet somewhere so deserted? Alec wondered. He  felt as if he was separated from the entirety of civilization in this empty parking lot. “Why is there a parking lot here anyways?” 

” Oh,” Robert said, he looked nervous and was fidgeting, “there is big concert near here every August. Big Valley Jamboree, have you heard of it? It’s actually quite fun, I’ve been a few times.”

“Oh, yeah?” Alec said. “What kind of music is it? Seems to me this is one of those huge music festivals that goes on for days.” 

“Exactly, man,” Robert  muttered, wringing his hands and rolling his shoulders,” it’s country music. This year I think Carrie Underwood is the big act, last year it was Lady Antebellum . . . oh here’s the guy I’m supposed to meet.” 

A black pickup truck parks haphazardly and a guy with dark sunglasses approuches.He looks at Robert and then at Alec. “This him?” The man asks. Two other men bald and large like bouncers are behind him. Alec begins to back away.

” What do they want with me, Robert?” Alec asks confused. Robert shrugs and smiles, walking away to his red car. The men grab Alec and blindfold him. A rag full of chloroform is put up to his mouth and nose.

When Alec wakes up, he is in a club, his favourite in Las Vegas. He is dressed exceptionally and all his buddies are around him drinking and being loud. 

Robert approaches Alec remorsefully. “Sorry to do that to you buddy, but we wanted it to be a total secret. I really wanted to surprise you. Happy Stag party.” Alec grins.

” You’re a dead man Robert!”

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http://www.publicdomainarchive.com
 

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: A Perfect Wife


I never thought I would be one to travel a great deal but I had been all around Europe this past year. Now, I was staying at a hotel in Amsterdam. On my way to get coffee, I noticed a man following me. He was dressed well and reminded me  of a how the Italian`s dressed, very sharp and expensive.

I remained in the crowds trying to lose my tail and I worked my way back to my hotel room. I thought I was safe in my hotel but my hands were grabbed and tied behind me as  I opened my suitcase. I was pulled over my stalkers shoulder and eventually placed in the back seat of a car.

” Sit back, Natasha, relax. I would never hurt you,”  my kidnapper reasoned.

” Then why would you kidnap me?” I yelled at the stranger.

” Mama says I need a wife and I want a pretty Canadian wife. I have lots of money. Plus, look at me? I’m hot you are lucky to have me for a husband.”

I tried the locks on the doors.” I want to go back to my hotel now. I have a fiance, I don’t need a husband.” I lied.

The man laughed at me and reached back to pat my arm. “I will make you forget about him.”

” I don’t want to be your wife!” I scream.

The man shrugged. ” My Mama and I picked you out in Florence. You helped a little boy find his lost parents and Mama said ‘She’s your wife.’ Mama is never wrong.”

I shuddered.

Dutch House

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting!