100 Word Wednesdays, Event, Flash Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesdays: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Living Small Dreams” #100WordWednesdays #flashfiction #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting this week’s #100WordWednesdays.

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Credit: Jessie Williams Via Unsplash

——–

Deep night and the darkness should seem mean, 

But in day time light exposes, reveals. 

The tranquil night holds me and conceals, 

I’m finding that black pitch, it redeems.

Souls in the day ashamed of life’s greeds, 

Broken, lost, but I’m more than what I seem. 

I’m like you, I have fond hopes and wild dreams.

More basic, I just want to have life’s needs. 

Water, food, health insurance, no delusions. 

Meds so I’m like you, not fearing night screams, 

Not having nightmares on cold streets mean. 

A homeless woman, battered, unseemly, 

Wishing for small things, a roof and hygiene. 

Wishing you’d help, want out of here, achieving —

Life where I don’t struggle but live small dreams. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Ruthless #amwriting #flashfiction #chess 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——–

Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

———

“I’ve learned some interesting things about chess lately,” Karley said. 

Tyler smirked and made his first move, the frosted glass pawn advanced, “What did you learn?” 

“Well, way back when there was no Queen. Beside the King was an Advisor.” 

“That Advisor must have had a lot of power if in chess he could move any direction on the board, diagonal or straight. Why did the Advisor become a Queen?” 

Karley grinned, “Well, for one, Queen Elizabeth I. But around her time and after, there were many powerful Queens. The Advisor becoming Queen was meant to please Queens, rulers who weren’t male.” 

“Do you think Queens in the monarchy were as ruthless as Kings?” Tyler asked watching Karley bring out her Bishop. 

“Of course. Queen Elizabeth I had no trouble executing those who opposed her. She also never married. I think power was her raison d’être,” Karley said placing her finger on the clear glass Queen. 

“But yet the Queen still protects the king?” Tyler mused. 

“He doesn’t really get to move much, though, does he?” 

“No, just a space here and there.” 

“Checkmate,” Karley said. 

“What, what does that mean? How’d you do that so fast?” 

“It comes from Arabic and French. Literally, it means, ‘He is Dead’ or ‘The King is Dead.’ I did it so fast because I’m the Queen.”

” The Queen?” Tyler said confused. 

“Yes, we’re ruthless.” 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Children/YA/Family, Current Events, Event, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, History, Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesdays Flash Fiction: Poem – Lunes – “Pushing On” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesday Prompts.

—–

Credit: Stephanie of La Photographie

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Gazing into my pretty face, 

Seeing mere woman —

No different than any other.

——

But if you peered deeper

You’d find a —

Woman greater than ‘classified’ gender. 

——

I’m a person deserving equality;

Because I’m feminist

Doesn’t mean I’m against men.

—–

Required for me are but —

Same wages, salary —

For the same position worked. 

—–

Provide me access to healthcare, 

Birth control; doctors —

Of all specialities needed whenever

——

I’m a working woman, educated —

well; the Mom —

Driving her kids to hockey. 

——

Tidying the house and hoping, 

My ‘modern’ husband, 

Helps me because shared chores —

—–

Equal happier relationships –less fighting. 

Don’t talk trash, 

Hurt and abuse; I’m strong. 

—–

But your sexist comments hurt;

Our Grandmother’s mother’s, 

Began fighting for women’s rights. 

—–

Are they rights only in —

Writing? Yet I —

Push their battle on so —

——

One day my daughter doesn’t, 

Have to fight;

Ignored for being a female.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  

Animals/Pets, Current Events, Free Verse, Health, History, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – “A Congested Mind” #poetry #amwriting 


http://www.pinterest.com

——–

They call it the unknown

The future lying before you. 

No matter if you’re psychic, 

No one knows what happens. 

There are varied scenarios,

Ways it could play out, 

But truly we don’t know the future

It’s a mystery creeping forward, 

And it pulls us along on our knees.

Whether we go willingly, 

Or go kicking and screaming;

Time marches in to the beat,

Of father time’s own drum. 

****

I don’t know what’s coming, 

I know worrying won’t help. 

I think sometimes I try to give advice, 

Reassuring myself in kind. 

There are bright possibilities, 

Hoping people become, 

More kind than they are mean to each other. 

Pray people look-out for each other, 

But sometimes I think society is self-centred. 

I admit to such fault and others too,

But I’m still fearful;

When I think of a year or two ahead, 

I’m afraid what if it’s not the right plan? 

Experience deftly taught me,

Plans are dim outlines of reality. 

Mostly, life goes where it goes

And God only knows where or why. 

Leading us through dark valleys, 

Into trenches with piercing bullets flying. 

Into classrooms with screaming kids, 

A gunmen on the loose. 

He leads us through to people, 

Whose power makes one nervous. 

How even democracy isn’t safe —

A tyrant could rule all. 

Maybe the world will surprise me, 

But I fear for the little person. 

*****

My own personal fears weigh heavy, 

Though others bear pains greater. 

Of lawyers and cases, 

Of corruption and crime. 

Those crimes we deem terrible;

Those crimes brushed under the rug. 

Greed and all those other sins,

Abhorred but freely ignored. 

Though I can never say what’s worse —

My own flaws or imperfections

Or those I’m faced with. 

Stress shows through cracks, 

Egg yokes running. 

No one likes raw eggs except in cookie dough

The future is overwhelming. 

But at least they’ll still be cookie dough, 

And I don’t know why —

I’m particular and observant

Why I know it’s better to be alone

Than be truly alone with another. 

Why I wait for that spark

Why I wait for the morning dawn. 

A smile in his eyes which is genuine

Wherever he is. 

But maybe happiness is a puppy

Paws following me on the hardwood, 

Barks at random sounds. 

The glory of a puppy skidding down —

The off leash trail and wheeling;

Turning around to jump on me, 

To pick her up when she’s tired. 

*****

My bones are stiff and ridged

My dreams fall to despair

So many books and writers, 

And not anyone can compare

How to rise above the masses, 

Or fill your own niche contented. 

But perhaps one could be something

Success in small moments. 
Afraid and weighted

Need to cry, tears unshed, 

Because disease is cruel. 
Even if Heaven is the end of the tunnel,

So many words are left unsaid

The timing of it all, does it work? 

I feel alienated

Though I try hard to keep the connection

It’s all in your planning Lord;

So must I say, your will be done.

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

November Notes: Poem – Day 30 – Italian Sonnet – “Survivor” #amwriting #novembernotes #poetry #music 


The last day of this song prompt goes to “Turnimg Tables” by Adele.

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“Turning Tables” – Adele

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Turning the tables, you say you want more, 

I’m tired of your haze, your noxious mean gaze. 

So I’m turning the tables, with heart fire I raze

I won’t let you hurt me, make my soul pour, 

As a bag of sand, my soul won’t be torn

I won’t ask, “Desert me;” you deserted first, 

Won’t be, ‘neath your thumb, you can’t slake my thirst. 

Turning tables, your game playings no more. 

Braving fierce storms, I’ll escape forever, 

I’ll save myself, return to you never

I’m a survivor, I’ll build my new life, 

No turning tables on me, your best ex-wife. 

Get out of my home, you’re not mine at all, 

I’ll turn you outside, your morals appall. 

——


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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Books, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories

Collage Prompt: #Fiction – Alice Series – Wild and Untamed #amwriting #aliceinwonderland #alicethroughthelookingglass


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s collage prompt.

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MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——-

Alice was home from school. She hated boarding school, but she hadn’t had a choice. Her father had insisted his daughter have the best education a girl could have. This meant school was not merely academics as it was for boys. Her boarding school was an all girls boarding school and a great deal of focus was put into “the finishing school” aspect of education for women. 

She needed to learn how to be a proper hostess and wife; those were the ideals of the Victorian woman. She needed to be the angel in the house, the moral compass of her household. 

Alice spent countless classes based on the proper religion for an English girl. The God her school taught about, was an an angry God; judgemental and all powerful. He didn’t seem particularly forgiving. But she was told doing her duty as woman would make God happy. 

Alice and her best friends Margaret and Prudence, often liked to cause trouble. They played tricks and sometimes skipped their more tedious classes. The girls were often punished with rulers smacking their hands soundly until they couldn’t feel them. Or writing lines of verses from The Bible until their fingers were too numb to write or days. 

 All in all, the school couldn’t punish Alice and her friends how the would’ve punished other girls. Her and her friends were daughters of enomoreous patrons of the girl’s school. 

That being said, Alice was excited to go home for the summer. She thought fondly of her childhood, her dreams that always wandered to her childhood fantasy world Wonderland. 

——

When the carriage dropped her off, Alice approached her home with a bit of trepidation. Her mother had been angry she had left flowers all over the headmasters office. The man had almost had a heart attack and Alice had laughed and laughed when she heard what he discovered. Bringing her suitcase with her, she opened the front door. 

Suddenly, the house started to move in various directions from the front entrance.  Staircases opened from every way, along with doors leading to God knows where. 

Alice had a peculiar feeling, she was travelling back to her childhood world. Staircases continued to rumble and groan as they moved. Leaving her suitcase, Alice jumped onto a staircase leading to a familiar giant golden door knob with a large decorated keyhole underneath.

Suddenly, the door knob sneezed. “You again. I thought I’d seen the last of you.” 

“Pardon me?” 

“Alice, yes? I remember. I had a cold last time you were here too; although, you’ve grown since then. Thinned out too, you were a bit fat for awhile, all that bread.” 

She gasped, “Excuse me, the ideal woman these days, has a round body with childbearing hips, my teachers told me and my mother agrees. And you aren’t even real. I’m dreaming.” 

“I wish the staircases would stop moving and the rest of the house weren’t so confusing. I have no idea where to go and I really was looking forward to a nap, ” Alice complained. 

The giant door knob sneezed again. “No Alice, I know you and you know me. You know us all. It’s been a while and you’ve blocked us out. We tried to visit, but you convinced yourself we were all childhood dreams, despite having been to Wonderland twice.” 

“You do play delightful tricks at school, I must say –you, Margaret, and Prudence. You should’ve brought them along . . . Then again, they wouldn’t believe Wonderland is real either. They don’t believe in magic, but you do. Oh, you deny it Alice but you do believe. You wouldn’t be back here if you didn’t,” the door knob lectured. 

Alice stomped her foot, “You’re not real.” 

“I am indeed, open me. Better yet, have some of that bread you like so much, in your left pocket first; it should do the trick.” 

She gasped and frowned when she put her hand in her pocket and found the delicious bread. She nibbled on the edge. Alice hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She took a bigger bite of bread and sighed with pleasure. 

“Not too much,” the door knob cautioned. She sniffed and raised her nose at him; she had shrunk in size considerably. Carefully, Alice turned the icky runny door knob nose, she needed no key. She stepped into another world; wiping her hands on her skirt, before gazing up in shock. 

—–

Alice truly was in the Wonderland of her youth. It appeared to be the same as she dreamt it to be. A path lay in front of her and she saw her body had become small. The grass and foliage around Alice was lush and towered over her.

She started to think of her old Wonderland friends when she came upon a catapillar on a large mushroom.”But you’re a butterfly now,” she said to the catapillar without thinking. 

The catapiller sniffed at her and took a long drag from his hookah. “Who are you? Have you figured it out yet? Time does pass. My great-grandfather spoke of you. Time doesn’t move so fast here. He’s out flying about and I’m waiting until I can fly too. Why have you returned?” 

Alice blinked rapidly. “I don’t know. I went through a doorway talked to a door knob, shrank, and now I’m here. It’s not a dream is it?” 

The catapullar laughed, taking another drag. “I assure you. It’s all quite real. There’s a pathway going that way,” he pointed to his right. “You should go there. It leads somewhere important.” 

“I see it’s a dock and we’re below it. It’s so large. Should I go below it in the sand? Or should I grow larger and go ontop of the dock. It’s quite big when you’re only six-inches tall.” 

The catapillar laughed,  inhaling his hookah promptly after . “There you go insulting those of us only six-inches tall again. Do you have bread in your pocket to grow taller?” 

Alice searched in her right pocket, “No bread but I think the mushroom you are laying upon has one side which will make me larger. Alice ate of one side which made her shrink more, than climbed up the mushroom to eat off the other side. She grew until she was her normal size again. 

“Curious and curiouser,” she said. “This is all too familiar. I hope there’s no seagull who thinks I’m a serphant ready to eat her young.” 

“You can say that again,” the catapillar said smirking. He bowed his head as Alice walked off, having shoved a piece of mushroom in her right pocket for future use.

She walked ontop of the dock until there was nothing but a short stairwell leading to a row boat in the sea. She recalled this moment in her second journey to Wonderland. But there should be a sheep somewhere she reasoned. 

On que a sheep appeared and they both rowed off into the sea, but it wasn’t really a sea. Alice thought it was more like a river. The sheep said: “Bahhh,” then smiled at Alice.”Hello Alice have you learned to feather yet?” 

“Oh, that’s a rowing term. I understand now. Same with catching a crab. I was so young then, sheep. I reached for those rushes remember? They’re still look and smell lovely. You can never catch the most beautiful ones, they are free.” 

The sheep bleated and sighed. “Do you ever think, Alice, that beauty is not meant to be tamed or kept?” 

“It’s a curious question coming from a sheep. But I think beauty should be left to exist and shine. You’re saying I should leave the lovely smelling rushes alone?” Alice asked. 

The sheep sighed again. “I’m not talking about rushes. You should pay attention Alice. That school you go to and those Victorian norms and rules of society, do you think they’re all correct? Do you believe everything you are taught without question?” 

Alice wrinkled her forehead and thought. “No not really. My bestfriends don’t either. It’s why we play tricks, skip classes, it’s why I sit in class bored. I do not want to be a proper woman, a tamed or kept Victorian housewife with her brood of children. I don’t want to think God is always angry and mean; I think he’s benevolent too.” 

“Ah, I didn’t think you agreed with your education. I think in the future things will be better, only wait and don’t grow-up too much. Don’t forget Wonderland –we’ll see you when you dream. We need your wildness, Alice.”The sheep bleated again and Alice instantly, woke up. 

She was riding in a carriage to her house for summer vacation. She attempted to remember her dreams. Alice swore she dreamt of Wonderland vividly. But all she could remember was a sheep telling her to stay wild and untamed. She grinned thinking of the tricks she played at school. She wasn’t a tame women yet; never if she had her way.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

May Day Prompts, My Thoughts, Poetry, Shadorma - 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Maydays: Poem – Shadorma – “Could Be You Some Day” #Maydays #amwriting



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Thank you to the wonderful K.L. Caley of new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. This prompt I mentioned in today’s #Maydays prompt. It concerns all things geek.

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http://www.theenquirer.co.uk

———-

Geek sheek is, 

There such a term we, 

Simply don’t —

Care to know, 

Because we don’t want to be a geek.

Memories; childhood.

——-

Bullies, 

Abused the, 

Geeks who in, 

Our schools, were —

Nerds shoved into lockers and, 

Forgotten about ’till —

——- 

Mr. X let, 

Nerdy guy out; he —

Never helps, 

Much, Mr. X —

Won’t stop bully from hurting, 

Kids; he pretends it’s play.

——

Movies don’t, 

Aid kids who become, 

Targets at —

School because, 

For some reason geeks stand out, 

Fate aids her bullies.

——-

Why are some, 

Children left —

Alone? While some, 

Lose their lunch —

Money, to mean kid who made,  

Them bleed, inside out.

——

And parents, 

Who don’t see their child, 

Bullying —

Beware your, 

Child’s cruelty leads kids to die;

Commit suicide.

——–

What makes a —

Geek? I’ve never been one, 

So it’s hard,

For me to, 

Generalize; perhaps, you can’t?

Bully choose prey anyways.

——

Call them geek, 

Not sheek; teenagers, 

And children, 

Abused by, 

Jealous, mean people; it’s fine —

To bully, they think. 

——-

Now they pick, 

On geeks online on,

Their Facebook,  

Snapchat and, 

Chat rooms; abounding with hate. 

But change in adulthood.

——-

World turns,

When that geek you hit.

Is your boss, 

Separating,

You from promotions deserved.

Shouldn’t have punched him.

——

Now the geeks, 

Are truly sheek and, 

Are making, 

Millions and —

Millions more than your pay cheque.

But the difference here–

——

Maybe they —

After some payback,

Have pity, 

On you and —

Your friend, who work under them.

They know what it’s like.

——–

So kids when, 

You’re attending school, 

Think ahead, 

You’re not young, 

Forever; the geek you hurt —

One day, could hurt you.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, May Day Prompts, My Thoughts, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Maydays: Flash Fiction – Forgiveness and Fate #Maydays



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Thank you to K.L. Caley of new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. Today’s theme is a transforming friendship, someone you or a character didn’t like, but now do.


——–

Ever since Cale started staring at me with his aqua-blue eyes and short blond hair, my pulse speeds up and I think I’m going to faint.

“Hi, ” Cale says to me as I pass him in the cafeteria.

 “Hi, how are you?” I say trembling

“Jane, right?” 

“Yeah and you’re Cale. How’d you know my name?” 

“Oh, I asked a couple of girls who I’m friends with from one of your classes, Marissa and Jackie.” I nodded. 

Marissa and Jackie both hated me. They talked behind my back and gave me dirty looks. I knew exactly who they were. But I was interested in knowing Cale better, despite his choice of friends.

“How did you know my name?” Cale asked me smiling, 

“I go and watch the hockey games. You guys are doing awesome this year. You’re a left winger right? I remember you score a lot of goals.” There’s a silly grin on my face.

“Sit down with me Jane,” Cale says. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink, it doesn’t look like you’ve had lunch yet?” 

“I’m okay.”

“No, really.” Cale says.

“Ok, I’ll have a bottle of water and a yogurt, granola, and fruit parfait.” I say.

Cale chuckles. “Such a healthy eater. I’m buying us some French fries to share too and you better eat some.” 

Cale comes back with more food than we can both eat. It makes me smile and feel warm inside.

“Tell me about yourself?” Cale says staring at me with his aqua-blue eyes. 

I blush. I’m so shy. I don’t know why he likes me.”I, uh um, I’m an English and Film Studies major. I’m taking five classes, I’m in my second year of university, and I like to swim. I go out with my friends on the weekend to dance and that’s pretty much it.” I say stumbling over my words. 

Cale chuckles. “Busy life Jane. Do you work too?”

“Yeah, I waitress at Moxie’s on the northside. What about you?” I’m beginning to feel less nervous.

“Well I can only manage three classes at once. I’m taking business, majoring in finance. I play hockey as you know and practice takes up a lot of time. I work a great deal at an accounting company in the West end. They help pay for my education and I want to get my CMA eventually. I have fun on the weekends with my friends like you. Maybe your friends and mine could meet up on Friday night? The Lucky Fox sound good to you?” 

I’m chewing a French fry and almost choke. I drink some water and as well as I can manage, I say: “That sounds like fun. Let me talk to my friends and I’ll get back to you.” 

Cale is grinning at me and brushes a stray lock of pink hued blond hair behind my ear. Pulling out his cellphone he asks for my number then texts me so I have his cell number as well. We continue to talk and when my next class starts, we talk through it too.

Eventually, Cale has to go to work. He kisses me on my cheek before he leaves.

——

“Where is this guy anyways, Jane?” My friend Rebecca asks. “He said to meet him at the Lucky Fox at 11:30 pm and it’s 1:30 am?” 

” Yeah, I don’t think he’s a good guy Jane,” Samantha says agreeing with Rebecca. A couple other girls who came along with Rebecca, Samantha, and I, chime in with their unflatterring views of Cale, trying to be supportive of me.

“Stuff happens when you’re out at a bar,” I say. “Maybe something happened with his friends and he couldn’t make it out.” 

I text Cale: Where are you, Cale? You said you’d meet here two-hours ago?

I don’t expect a reply. I’ve texted Cale four or five times with no response.

Who’s this? His text message says. I jump.

It’s Jane from school remember? We had lunch together and talked all afternoon? We made plans for our friends to all meet tonight at the Lucky Fox?

He texts: Sorry too much to drink. . .

What? I text back.

I don’t get a response and I’m fuming.

——

Monday at school I pass Cale on the way to my second class.

Cale touches my shoulder and I spin around to glare at him.

“I can explain about Friday,” he says hands up in apology. “I’m so sorry those girls who told me your name . . .” Cale stops, eyes wide at the anger in my expression.

“Marissa and Jackie?” I say with bitterness.

” Yeah, they got us real drunk. We were playing a card game and pretty much passed-out by midnight. I’m sorry. We did mean to meet you at the Lucky Fox and I was excited to see you and meet your friends.”

 I scoffed. “Whatever, you made your choice. You chose to play games and get drunk with your friends, Marissa, and Jackie.” 

“Please Jane, I like you a lot. I’ll do better next time.” I ignore Cale stepping around him and I don’t talk to him again, this semester or the next. 

He always smiles and waves when I pass by him, but I ignore him. The hurt look on his face every time I pretend not to see him, causes an ache I didn’t know existed inside me.

——

It’s the beginning of my third year and I know the courses are more advanced and will be harder this year. I’m done class for the first day when I bump into Cale, not watching where I’m going.

Cale puts his hands on my shoulders to stabilize me. “Jane? How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever. How was your summer?” 

“It was good Cale. I waitressed and I make great tips in the patio season. I also went away with my best friends Rebecca and Samantha and we went to San Francisco for a week. How about you?”

“Ah, a lot of work at the company.” Cale says shaking his head sadly. “I went to Cancun, Mexico though in Spring with my buddies. It was awesome.” 

I’m amazed I’m desperately curious about Cale’s life still. I’m not mad at him for that one night where he didn’t show up to bar. I think I was over reacting and I’m happy to see Cale because I’ve thought of him often, wishing for a do-over. Here’s my chance.

 Cale’s hands are still on my shoulders his thumbs gently brushing the bare skin beside my scooped necked blue t-shirt.

 “Listen,” I admit, “I’m sorry I was so mad at you before. Things happen when alcohol is involved I know, but I was hurt. I wanted to spend the night with you and you spent it with those other girls Marissa and Jackie. Those girls hate me. They talk behind my back about me.” 

Cale frowns, “I’ll talk to Marissa and Jackie. They won’t be doing that to you anymore if they want to stay friends with me.” I feel hopeful about what Cale has said.

 “You had a right to be mad about that night.” He adds, “I was being stupid. But you didn’t have to ignore me for a year. I had given up hope you’d ever talk to me again until well, right now.”

“I’m sorry Cale. I was being mean. I shouldn’t have ignored you for so long. Just because you didn’t show up one night doesn’t give me the right to treat you like you don’t exist. I hated ignoring you, I felt guilty every time I did it.” I said peering up at Cale’s aqua-blue eyes.

” Jane are you seeing anyone right now?”

I blush and smile at Cale. “No, not for months. Are you?”

“No same as you. I’d like to take you out and only us this time. We can meet each other’s friends another time. I’ve missed you and I want to get to know you better. Can I pick you up for dinner some night this week?”

“Yes, you may,” I say. Cale grins, looking relieved.

“Tuesday is a good night for me, how about you?” I ask him.

“Tuesday at 7:00 pm it is.” 

Cale is noticeably exstatic and I think he’s about the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in his happiness. I absently run my hand through his short blond hair which is so soft, as I gaze up at him. 

I barely realize his mouth is on mine until it is and his kiss and searching lips make me forget all the bad things that happened between us. I feel a warm hum of energy trickling from Cale’s lips into me.

Cale pulls away from me, breathing hard. “I’ve been wanting to do that for over a year, Jane.” 

I take his hand shyly. “I’m glad you finally did.” 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Story Continuation Prompt: Flash Fiction – Judged


Thanks to Wandering Soul for hosting this prompt challenge. This week’s challenge is up to a 500 word piece of writing with the beginning sentence: “The delicious aroma of the freshly baked croissants wafted through the near-empty café.”

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The delicious aroma of the freshly baked croissants wafted through the near-empty Cafe. It was Sunday morning around 9:00 am and the majority of people weren’t up this early. Many church services did not begin until 10:00 or 10:30 am. Giselle thought about her home church while eating a buttery croissant and drinking a cappuccino.

She hadn’t been to church in a while. It wasn’t because she stopped believing in God or his son Jesus. It didn’t mean she didn’t have a few Christian friends or that she didn’t miss some of the people she grew up with in church.

Other issues were at work in Giselle’s life and a place which had always felt peaceful and inviting to her, became a place full of judgement. There was no forgiveness to be found in her old church and Giselle felt heavy hearted. People she had fondly thought of as Aunties and Uncles growing up, now gazed upon her with severe disapproval. 

Giselle believed it was God’s right alone to judge a person’s sins. Other Christians in her life could guide her and warn her of where her actions might lead, but she didn’t deserve hatred from them, to be the subject of gossip. Her best friend Ivy especially, had turned on Giselle.

Giselle had read a meme on the internet that read: “Thou Shall Not Judge Because Thou Has F$&#%d Up Too.” It was pertinent. When Giselle admitted to Ivy she had been attacked and raped by a stranger in an alley one night, Ivy had given her a stunned stare. 

“Are you sure?” Ivy had asked, then later told her parents and other church members Ivy ran into. Giselle had told Ivy she was pregnant with the rapist’s child. Rumours and gossip spread. Ivy, her family, and many other church members thought Giselle was having an abortion when she was admitted into hospital. 

The reality was Giselle’s pregnancy had failed; the tiny baby growing within Giselle had died. A doctor informed Giselle there had been complications. She could never have a child again. 

An elderly man at church had told Giselle, “You sew what you reap,” when he had heard the gossip Ivy had spread about Giselle having an abortion.

Giselle was suffering inside and some of her best friends were ‘outing her.’ The only people who knew and believed the truth were Giselle’s family and they were judged harshly for supporting Giselle.

She attended her home church for the last time that Sunday, enduring cat-like behaviour from the women and men who told her she should be ashamed. Shouldn’t they be helping her and ‘lifting her up?’ Did they no longer care about her? 

Giselle thought it ironic her church wondered why Christains were not attending church. Couldn’t they see, the world had become a kinder place than their church? That Jesus’ light was brighter out among strangers? People Giselle had known and trusted all her life had become like ‘a den of vipers.’

Looking up one last time at the cross and steeple of the church Giselle had called home, she left her church for good; Giselle had hope she would find a kinder church someday.

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Note: There are great Christian churches with kind and understanding people attending them. They are good neighbours who through God, help people like Giselle heal. This story is fictional and hopefully, a worst case scenario.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Story Continuation Prompt: Fiction – “Renewing My License”


Thank you to Wandering Soul who host this challenge each week. You can complete the prompt sentences and add two sentences of your own or use the sentence to write your own story based on the sentence. This week’s prompt sentence is: ” The harried woman looked at me, aggravatedly. I couldn’t care less.”

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The harried woman looked at me, aggravatedly. I couldn’t care less. I only needed to pay for my new driver’s license and have a new picture of myself taken. 

The woman named Jill pretended not to see me. I knew from the length of the line-up she had been busy all day. I felt bad for Jill  but at the same time, I had been standing in line one hour and there were four other ladies working at counters serving people politely and in a timely manner.

Why was the line I was in moving so slowly? The other women at their booths were cheery, as if they were attempting to do the best job they could, despite the constant flow of people.

But Jill sat in front of me and wouldn’t even look at me when I cleared my throat. She took her time drinking a soft drink until it was half-empty and pulled out a bag of ketchup chips from her desk drawer. Jill ate the chips slowly, licking her fingertips afterwards. 

She didn’t bother to wipe off her hands or use hand sanitizer. Jill peered up at me finally giving me be a grumpy stare and said: “What would you like Ma’am?” My eyes went wide as she emphasized the title ‘Ma’am.’ She was using the title on purpose, to be insulting.

I smiled at her trying to be genuine.”My those chips looked tasty. It must be difficult to take a break when there are long line-ups. I like your nail polish, what colour is that, Jade?” 

Jill looked at me distrustingly. “How can I help you?” She asked snidely. I sighed.

“Listen Jill,  I have been waiting for help from you for an hour and a half and all I need to do is renew my driver’s license and take a new picture for the license.” I handed her my old driver’s license and I paid for a new license. Jill was fast with her computer skills to my surprise.

“Picture is fine, it doesn’t need retaking,” Jill said, trying to speed up the process of moving me through the line.

“I would like a new picture. I’ve lost twenty-pounds since my old picture.” I told Jill and she giggled. 

“Still a ways to go?” I was taken a back. Especially after I regarded Jill’s plump form which was fuelled by junk food, as far I was concerned. 

“Actually my weight is great, right on par for my height. Thank you for asking, let’s get that picture taken, shall we?”

 Jill rolled her eyes and directed me where to sit and quickly snapped a picture. I glanced at the photo on her computer screen, “No, that’s a bad photo. Please take one more. Take pictures until you get one where I look decent.” Jill only took one more picture.

“We’re going to use this one,” she said trying to sound authoritive. It was better then the first one at least. I glanced at Jill again. What in the world was going on in her life that she was acting so miserable and rude? 

I heard her take the next customer as I walked away. She drank the remainder of her soft drink before helping an elderly man. She told him to hurry up and that she didn’t have time to explain everything too him. I was going to go back and defend the man, but he seemed to be doing fine, pounding his fist on Jill’s desk and asking to see Jill’s manager.

What turns a person into a woman who behaves such as Jill? I wondered.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.