IF I TELL IT

November the 10th and day 10 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. No snow but it must have rained overnight. The ground is wet and the sky is grey. It would be a good day for California dreaming. Winter is on the way. What story can I tell today. I’m hoping like the farmer in Field of Dreams, that if I tell it people will read it.

I had dreams of writing even in grade school. I have memories of huddling with a couple of friends at recess to start a story. I bet we gave our teachers a smile and maybe a chuckle or two. Nothing much came out of these gab sessions. How productive or creative can kids get in 15-20 minutes? I know that it’s ample enough time for them to get into trouble. But I was never that kind of a child. I was rather boring. I never got into trouble. I got ran over by a boy on a bike once. I was in my Brownie uniform going to a meeting. My face got smashed into the dirt. I got a lip full of gravel. Still, I worried about getting into trouble.

In grade 8 the principal overheard me talking with another student about not having to study. We were walking back into the school from recess. We were still on our own time. He came to my class and called me out to talk. The other kids in the class thought he was going to praise me or something. They thought I was his pet. Instead he gave me supreme shit. Something like ‘Don’t you dare be a bad influence. Now get back inside!’ I was crushed and shocked for I was sort of his pet. It was rather harsh.

Looking back now, I think maybe it was around the time his wife was sick. She had cancer and died but I don’t know the time frame. But I was still a tender child. I must have gotten over it because I babysat his young daughter on evenings when he had meetings. Then he taught me how to dance for my grade 12 graduation. He was always proper with me. After high school when I was in Saskatoon going to university, he called our house. I answered the phone. I thought he would want to talk to my father eventually but no. He invited me out for supper.

We went to the Marigold on Third Avenue. They had a delicous barbecue chicken. He asked me if I wanted a drink. I ordered a margarita. I don’t know what we talked about. I do remember he told me I should be careful about drinking when I am out with a man. I already thought it a bit improper that he asked me out. But he was my teacher and principal from Maidstone. His advice gave me great pause. But we were in public and nothing improper happened. I am the original Miss Innocent but I have good instincts. I have heard stories that he like young blond girls. Well! I am not blond at all but I was young and supple.



A HARD WEEK – Day 168 – 174 in a year of…

Day 168 – 174, January 16, 2017 @4:59pm

A week have gone by since I’ve been here. I haven’t abandoned ship. I’m still with the program. January has been HARD. I’m lacking luster, inspiration and drive. My Tinker Bell with her magic wand and fairy dust has been taking a long coffee break. It’s about time she returns. I miss the flutter of her wings.

15972543_10154160440620887_1385237383641444151_oIn the meantime, I have been working hard, putting one foot in front of the other. I am trying to do different, making new ruts instead of falling into the same old. My brain fights for the comfortable and familiar. I fight to keep it awake. I’m taking an online art class and trying stuff that I didn’t think I would care for – like doing a collage.  In the process of doing, I find that it is pleasurable, almost exciting. I’m learning about new techniques, different paints, art supplies and tools.

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I am also learning about story telling. This exercise is about using a power animal for healing. I chose the snake in a Chinese Legend of the White Snake. Thinking of all the positive attributes I want her to have, I wrote them on the page. I’m incorporating, breathing in these attributes as I paint a background for my snake maiden. Since it is my mother who told me the story, she is my White Snake Maiden. I did a sketch of her from a photo when she was a young woman.

I am discovering that I could enjoy new things – things that I thought I wouldn’t like. I am kicking my lazy brain in the butt. It is hard. I want to sleep. I want to snack. It is January, winter, the time for the hibernation instinct. I cut myself some slack. I have a snack.

My collage is not yet done. It’s taken a new story. The story will have to wait till next time.

 

A TIGHT FIX

It is Friday and time for Friday Fictioneers.   Every Friday we gather here to share our stories of 100 words from a photo prompt. We are hosted by the ever effervescent Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.  Comments and constructive critiques are welcomed.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jean L. Hays

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jean L. Hays

She  squirmed uncomfortably in the back seat.  She was tightly wedged in on both sides – a skinny Canadian expat on her right and a big American woman on the left.

Sally shifted herself, pushing up on the roof for support.  She could hardly breathe.  She tried to lean back but was met with their unyielding luggage.

How did she get in this fix?  She would need the jaws of life to get her out of this.  She dared not look at the woman. It would start another flood of conversation and tears about the boyfriend again.

She counted the hours.

TRAPPED!

It is Friday.  Once again it is time for Friday Fictioneers and our tales from our imaginations.  We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.  Here is my story this week of 100 words.

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Photo prompt – Copyright – Dawn Q. Landau

She felt the world on her back, pushing her forward.  Head down, stooping over, she trudged one step at a time.  Her shoes felt like lead.  She was trapped by an invisible wall.

She dared not go too fast, lest she overstepped her boundaries.  One wrong move in any direction could end it all.  She spun around in her tracks, looking for an escape route.

The wind blew the skirt around her legs. She tugged the hat down on her head, clutching the heavy hammer with her other hand.

“Help.”  She whimpered.  Silence rebounded.

“Help!”  She screamed into the void.