Bullies

They were nothing but Bullies.

“I dare ya,” Rick said, his grin suddenly turning devilish.

“I double dog dare ya!” Steve said, chuckling and holding the beer bottle to her lips.

Rosy looked at the bottle then up to the two boys. She didn’t want to drink it. She hated the smell of beer, so she knew it would be just as foul tasting. And yet they liked it. Was there something to it which no one knew until they actually had some?

Cabin in the woods, part 1

Artist: Jay Toon

 The stories about the cabin in the woods were now verging on legend, but they would, after some eighty years of sightings.  

Sightings is how the townsfolk referred to it when people told of their experience with the cabin in the woods. These were somewhat like sightings of UFO’s, the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot. Everyone  in Banyan Hollow Township  had heard the tales, incredible ones told with relish, by well-respected people, totally sane ones and mostly sober.

They spoke about getting lost in the woods, getting hurt, being chased by a bear or wolves or experiencing some other misfortune which brought some desperation to their circumstances.  Just as they were thinking death was coming for them they saw it, like a beacon in the night. The cabin in the woods just showed up in the nick of time to save their lives.

A fun challenge

I dunno, what do you think it is?

I'm involved with a group of writers from HELIUM who get together for the occasional Author's Challenge in which we read and offer praise and gentle critiques on our work, this in an effort to improve our writing skills. We only just finished one, our 35th one in fact, which was particularly fun. We each wrote a story or poem from the point of view of an inanimate, unknown object. That is to say, everyone except the author wouldn't know what the object is. We had to guess by deciphering the clues within the story or poem.

Well, in some cases, this wasn't as easy as you'd think. Some of them really stumped us! All of these entries were good, but the winner of the competition was Terry Mahoney, who happened to guess each one correctly and rendered the most people clueless as to what his object was. Don Hancock came in a close second.

Winter passing by Julie Helms

If you've visited Glory's Garden at anytime this year, you're likely to know our guest today, Julie Helms. She not only keeps sheep and chickens at Wooly Acres, but she also has quite the knack for poetry and short stories. Today she allows me to present to you a flash fiction piece which really sings to me.

Winter passing by Julie Helms

 Tara was a true free spirit of the summer warm winds. Her little eight-year old legs danced in the tall grasses of the meadow, twirling her about. She picked wildflowers and wove them into elaborate wreathes for her hair. She picked more to bring her mother bouquets who put the blooms in quaint old glass jars and lined them up on the windowsill. Tara would wriggle her toes in dirt, run with her dog across the fields and quietly watch the baby bunnies in their nest as they grew.

Where did the time go by Alistair Marquise

My friend Alistair Marquise has the guest spot today with one of his flash fiction wonders. If you are not aware of what flash fiction is, it is a story told in as little as 100 words. At Helium they are a bit more forgiving and allow 400 words. Alistair is a master of this genre and while his stories may not classify as nice, little romances (Most of them send shivers up my spine!) but they are wonderfully creative and well told. So, here is Alistair's first (I do so hope he will allow me to feature others in time) flash fiction story.

Where did the time go by Alistair Marquise

The steps of the tower wind above and below him in interminable, vertigo-inducing spirals, light from unknown sources accentuating the twisting, jagged stone, offering no hope for escape, the despair of eons twisting its way with equal ferocity into both Heaven and Hell like a mammoth screw.

Life’s too short for ugly clothes

“Life’s too short for ugly clothes.”

“You sound like something out of Cosmo. Please, tell me you are not reading Cosmo. Hasn’t it been established that it rots the brain as surely as candy rots teeth?” Francine told her infuriatingly blase sister.

Rolling her eyes, Gina stood in front of the full-length mirror in the only dress shop her stubborn sister would enter willingly and ignored her latest gibe. She proceeded to survey her reflection with satisfaction. This separation from her husband had done wonders for her that five years of exercise and weight watchers hadn’t, with loads less money spent.

“So, what do you think?” she asked turning around and doing her best Vanna White impression.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Francine said, not at all amused. “Come on, spill it.”

“Excuse me?  I don’t want to look like a frumpy old housewife in sweats any longer,” Gina retorted.

“Gina, what’s going on?” Francine asked anxiously.  “You don’t see me for two month, you don’t even return calls and out of the blue you want to go shopping and this is what you consider appropriate for a mother of two? Hookers dress better than this, Gina.”

Never fall in love again

Dionne Warwick was letting her down. 

For one solid year Stephanie very successfully had been using Dionne Warwick’s signature song as a mantra, a incantation to ward off the evil that had plagued her since high school, all through college and even now into her ...God help her!....her mid--all right, all right!--late thirties. So, why was Dionne failing her now? Oh, but she knew perfectly well why.

“What do you get when you fall in love?  A guy with a pin to burst your bubble. That’s what you get, for all your trouble. I'll never fall in love again. ”

It had worked every time. All she had to do is sing along with Dionne and remember Chad, Tim, Jeff, Henry and especially Darren, the little weasel! And miraculously she would be safe, her heart would be still and she could concentrate on the important things in life, her friends, her family and her very successful career as an advertising genius.