Please accept my first entry to Friday Fictioneer for the December 26, 2013 edition.
Deheya’ smoothed her doeskin dress. The Count emerged from the portal. Her heart stopped.
Bowing, he clicked his heels , and pressed lips to her hand. “I waited all night.”
She nodded, not trusting herself.
“Not even for this?” His eyes swept to the Tower. The bright beacon promised much.
She shook her head.
Gently holding her hand, he murmured, “Your People offered you up.”
Proud, she remembered.
He smiled. “Come. Our year awaits.” His voice promised silks and sweets.
Perhaps their son would join the People and the New Ones. War would end. Women would smile again.
Read about Deheya’s changed life.
Setting here, with my lap top, I ponder the delete command. I joined WordPress and intended to write higher class material than I wrote on another website. Looking at other blogs, I knew I needed material. So, torn between writing enough stories to show I had a pulse, and writing a longer work, I wrote for Daily Prompts, while working on extended stories.
Whines Rip My Soul
Rachael tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, humming to something from TransSiberian Express. They were playing their version of Carol of the Bells. She looked sadly at the passenger seat, wishing Greg was driving. She was happy to let him do the driving, in fact, he insisted on it. Instead, here she was, alone, on Highway 20, in the middle of the week, in the middle of nowhere. The antelope fence separated the highway from the sagebrush strewn miles stretching endlessly into the blue distance. Snow huddled in the shadows, shivering in the wind.
(Written in response to a Daily Prompt: A Source of Anxiety.)
Why Not Podcasts or YouTube?
Hi, you may not realize it, but you are hearing the most important message of your life. As you know, everyone on the planet got the Daily Prompt: Fifteen Minutes. Each of us gets fifteen minutes on Radio or TV. Please do not be offended if I also text as I speak to you. It is not personal, it is just the way I am.
Please wait your turn, even though the line is ever so long. I know just what you are thinking. Only one of us can talk at a time, and your time starts as soon as the prior speaker stops, so do not tarry. Step promptly to the microphone and speak clearly and distinctly. What you have to say is so terribly important to us. Our time-keeper and judge will be Carrie Ann Inaba, well-known for her fairness and attention to detail.
Sand, Serenity and Sadness
Thanksgiving smells, laughter and hugs left my heart swirling. Weakly, I gave in to the smiles, seduction, and surrender of the season. Gone were my thoughts on finishing Whispers. Now, in the gray, watery light of morning, I long for that fire to discover the fate of my heroine. While I impatiently wait, I dally in diversions like The Daily Prompt – Five Items and other delightful distractions.
Caressed By A Cloud
Sunday morning came early, before sun rise. Awakening before my early alarm, I showered, heated water for tea, and nibbled on toast. Daniel got up just a little before Derek, his nephew. Bleary eyed, the victims of a very late night pulled on their clothes and tumbled into our Expedition. Keys already in hand, I gave Daniel no opportunity to drive.
Wind helped close my door. That I teetered, near my first entry for a Weekly Writing Challenge: Snapshots.was far from my mind. Instead, guilt tempered my irritation at them. I liked Derek’s quiet ways. And, someone needed to take Derek back. That I was driving surprised me.