TINY Fiction or Real Tales in a Single Post Thread

SeaBreeze

SeaBreeze

Endlessly Groovin'
Location
USA
Just for fun I put together this amateur tiny tale that fits into one single post. It would be nice if you made any of your own to add them to this thread, truth or fiction (or combo of both), all is welcome. :)




Shared Memories


As the morning sun peeks thorough the dingy white curtains, sounds of chatter and activity fill the air once again. Nora prepares herself for a breakfast of farina, sausages and buttered toast. Aromatic coffee with cream encourages her to hurry to the breakfast table. She isn't very hungry, but clutches her warm mug of the comforting elixir.

Glancing out the window, she sees a robin pulling a worm from the soil and thinks to herself that this is the perfect way to begin another dreary day. As Nora hyptnotically stares through the small smudged window, she begins to think of her younger days. Her only companions and friends now are her memories, which become more hazy with time. She no longer has family left, her husband died years ago. She's been entering the last chapter of her life feeling very alone. Seventy years have passed and as a young girl she never imagined facing her final days in an old age home with strangers.

Nora's life worsened when she was taken from her place at the apartment by human welfare services, as the result of a concerned neighbor. She was a frail woman who always walked with an old wooden cane, she did have difficulty carrying in groceries and getting around. Since the forced move, Nora felt lost, empty, out of control of anything in her life. Her neighbor was at least kind enough to adopt her silver tabby cat Bea, so that gave Nora some comfort when moving into the home, although she was heartbroken to leave her baby behind.

Weary of watching the birds and squirrels, Nora goes back into her room for a nap. Her naps have become longer and longer, as they not only rest her body, but they give her mind some relief from her own sad reality. Just as she starts to dose off, she is awakened by the gentleman's voice who resides in the room next to hers. Usually very quiet, he seemes to be speaking to a woman and even laughing quite loudly. She's happy that someone is visiting him. She never has any visitors herself, just small talk with the other residents during meals and sometimes out in the yard.

Nora turnes on her small TV and decides to watch the news for awhile. As they sound a heavy storm alert for the area, a lovely smiling lady stands at her doorway and gently knocks on the door frame. She introduces herself as a new volunteer there named Maria, and asks Nora if she wants to chat a bit. She eagerly invites her in and offers her a cup of tea.

Maria is so warm and friendly, Nora's thrilled that she stopped by. As Maria starts asking her questions about her life, Nora is eager to share her story. Their visit lasts almost two hours, when the attendant reminds her it's time for her to go to the dining area for dinner. Maria excuses herself, tells Nora what a pleasure it was to talk with her and wishes her a pleasant evening. She went to dinner feeling like she hadn't felt in such a long time, she found herself smiling inside and it felt so good.

For the next week Maria stopped in for short visits with Nora and loved to hear about her husband, her life before the nursing home, her childhood and her feelings about what's happened to her since. Each visit gave her some peace, she felt like she had family now. Maria seemed to be really interested in her well being and state of mind. She hoped the visits would never end and always looked forward to seeing Maria again.

Maria was a beautiful lady, well dressed and very attractive. She always drove a very fancy car with a brilliant shine, the deep indigo color made it look so rich. Watching Maria drive away was always a bit sad, never knowing if she would come back again. Nora was sleeping better at night, usually thinking of Maria and feeling more secure now that she had a friend to talk to.

As time went on and they grew closer, Maria shared some of her personal life with Nora. She was also a widow, although much younger, her heart was just as empty. Her husband saw to it that she would never have to be without financially, her home was beautiful on a large well manicured property off the ocean and she had hired hands to cover all of her needs.

Nora never knew anyone who was so blessed and she told Maria that she would have loved to live that kind of a life for even one day. Maria knew that money couldn't help her with her lonliness, but she knew that Nora was much more alone with no money, living in a room with a number on the door.

The weather had been gloomy all week, and Nora loved to watch the rain through the window in her room, it made her feel both happy and sad. It was a Thursday afternoon and she just finished eating lunch with the others in the dining area. It was pouring very heavily now and she was relaxing in her room still dreamily watching the rain.

An attendent suddenly gives a loud knock on Nora's door and asks to come in. She says Maria is in the office and wants to have a meeting with her. She hurries to change her blouse and is very nervous not knowing what to expect. She fears she is about to get some bad news, but what did Maria have to do with it? When she enters the office the chief administrator is there, a stern gentleman who is rarely seen in the facility by the residents. Maria goes over to Nora and hugs her, asking her to sit and have a talk with them. Nora sits down anxiously, still unsure of what's going on.

The administrator, Mr. Ryan, asks Nora if Maria had been visiting with her. She replies yes, and that she very much enjoys her visits and looks forward to them. Mr. Ryan then says that Maria has a proposal that she may like to consider.

He explains that she wants Nora to leave the nursing home and live permanently with her. All of her expenses, including medical would be taken care of by Maria. She would have live in care, including cooking, cleaning and help with any errands she may need to run. A document was prepared to assure Nora of a secure home with Maria for the rest of her days, the form also made clear that Nora was approving this arrangement of her own free will.

Nora is in disbelief, as her eyes well up with tears she feels like she's dreaming. There was never anyone who would be so generous or so kind to her, she puts her head in her hands and starts crying, she had never been so touched before in her life. Maria reaches over and puts her arms around her, and tells her that she's welcome to come as soon as she decides. Right then and there, Nora says she'd be honored and delighted, both of them sign the document witnessed by Mr. Ryan. She asks Maria how she could ever repay her, and she assures her that being a friend with such a wise and kind soul is payment enough.

After a few phone calls between the two ladies, it's decided that Maria would come to bring Nora home on Saturday morning. That morning Maria went into Nora's room to make sure she didn't forget anything and help her with her bags. She only had a small suitcase and a hat box filled with personal items. The ride to Maria's house was an exciting one, Nora only saw such lovely trees, gardens and beautiful homes in magazines. As they pulled into the driveway, she still couldn't believe this was happening to her.

Maria shows her to her room, which is almost like a little home in itself. Her bedroom is warm and bright with a queen sized bed, lush carpeting, lovely furniture and large enough to go for a stroll in. Nora has her own bath, kitchen area and large glass doors lead to a balcony with beautiful flower arrangements in large marble pots. The balcony overlooks a calm ocean beach, not a soul to be seen except some seagulls romping in the sand and playing in the gentle waves.

Maria tells her to relax and get comfortable, and provides her with some casual things to lounge in. She says that they will have a dinner prepared for the two of them and relax with some wine. Nora is still teary and hopes this dream won't end. When Maria leaves the room, Nora changes and starts to look around. Everything is so new and clean, with beautiful art on the walls, a slow turning ceiling fan overhead.

Within in a short time there's a gentle knock on the door, it's Maria saying that she has one more thing to show her before dinner. Nora asks her to come in, and she does. Cradled in her arms is Bea, who looks more beautiful than ever and begins purring loudly as soon as she sees her mama. Shocked, Nora sits on the bed and just looks at the silver tabby. Maria places Bea in Nora's lap and she hugs her gently and sobs with joy as the cat purrs and nestles lovingly by her neck.

After a delicious dinner and relaxing music, Nora retires for the evening with her baby. Maria put a special pillow for her on the bed so they could be close all night. They both snuggle together while watching the late night news, and drift off to sleep peacefully in their new home.

As days go by, the two became close friends. Maria took her out for some much needed clothing and a new hairstyle. She even helped Nora pick out a brand new walking cane, powder blue in color. They accompanied each other to outdoor events, museums, the theater and dining at fine restaurants. Their age difference didn't matter, they had so much in common, it was as though they were friends for years.

Nora is blessed to spend her golden years with such a caring lady and her dearly loved kitty. Every night before bed she gives thanks for being chosen to share some new memories as her old ones are now very faded.


~SeaBreeze
 

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Seabreeze, You wrote that? That is a sweet little story. It kept my interest, quite understandable and possible and a great tale for some of us aging baby boomers like myself! If you did write it, you are quite talented!
 
Thanks Carla, hope others here will join in. Lots of talent and kind hearts around! :love_heart:
 

Cabin Life After

Cabin Life After


Another balmy evening and Joe was in his usual spot, sitting on the little dock by the lake in front of his cabin. By his side was his only friend now, his loyal dog Mopey. He lit his White Owl cigar and got comfortable in his favorite folding chair. He slowly sipped his beer as he watched the ducks swim by to visit, after all these years all the creatures around the lake seemed to know him well.

The love of his life passed on several years ago, but he still put her chair out next to him. They often would be out there until the stars appeared, sometimes chatting about the day's events and sometimes silently just enjoying each other's company and holding each others' hand.

She was both his friend and lover until the very end, and he still wore the band from when they married over thirty years ago, and she still wears hers. Sue was always with him both in his thoughts and in his heart, possessed his very soul. He enjoyed his life, but he looked forward to the day he would be with her again.

As the sun set behind the pine trees he knew the day was behind him and headed back inside. Tomorrow he'd be up early to make some hot coffee with a bacon and egg breakfast and then take his small motor boat on the lake to catch a fish or two for dinner. Mopey would join him in breakfast and the fish dinner.

Joe was happy to make special meals for the old boy and he always asked him what he wanted and how he liked it. Someone listening by the window of the rustic log cabin would never know Joe lived alone, there was always some chatter and even laughter to be heard.

They welcomed Mopey into their home as a young pup when Sue stopped working and wanted some company while home alone. Mopey would follow her from room to room, although he always took his time getting up and moving. Even as a baby when Sue called him to come to her, he'd come when he was good and ready. That's how he earned the nickname Mopey, his real name was Otto.

Morning came quickly and Joe slowly rowed out to his favorite spot on the lake. It was a calm morning and the water was like glass except for the odd insect here and there enjoying a little swim. Mopey found his favorite place to lie under the bench seat in front of the boat. He had some shade there as the gentle movement of the water rocked him to sleep.

Joe wasn't getting much action, but he was really enjoying the melody of the songbirds as they played in the warm rays of sun that were peeking through the leaves. In the distance was a doe nibbling on the lush foliage at her leisure. He felt grateful to be surrounded every day by such natural beauty. He reached forward and gave Mopey a loving pat and told him he was a good boy. He started to think how sad it would be if anything happened to his best friend, but quickly turned his attention to a teasing nibble he was getting from a skittish walleye.

He checked his worm and it was gone, so he put another fat nightcrawler on the hook. The soil surrounding the lake was very rich and a haven for worms. Just a poke of a finger provided Joe with all the fishing bait he needed for the afternoon. Hours had passed and he decided to pull up on shore and give Mopey a chance to sniff around and stretch his legs.

He opened his cooler and took out a chicken sandwich he prepared the night before, along with it was a big crunchy dill pickle and a nice cold beer. He didn't forget his friend, and had a tasty leftover steak bone with plenty of meat on it for his boy, who trotted off happily with it in his mouth and settled in nice shady spot to enjoy his treat.

After awhile they climbed back into the boat and went to see if the fish were more cooperative. Grey clouds had rolled in and the wind started kicking up. It wasn't long before the water became choppy and Joe decided to start his motor and head back to the cabin before it got too rough. He covered Mopey's bench seat with a tarp so he wouldn't get too wet from the spray. White caps were forming quickly as they made their way back to the dock. Perfect timing, as it started to rain heavily as soon as they walked the beaten path to the front door.

Chilled from the rain and splashing waves, he quickly threw a couple of logs into the wood stove. The old dog lay on a nearby rug that Sue bought for him when he was young. He seemed to know it was from her and appeared to sense her presence as a look of quiet contentment came over his brindled face.

Joe started to warm up some left over gumbo he had in the refrigerator, it was one of his specialties with shrimp, crab meat, scallops, sausage and with a roux made with tender loving care, just the way Sue used to love it. They both enjoyed a quiet dinner as the rain tapped on the window panes.

He settled in for the night with a mug of hot cocoa topped off with some elderberry brandy, propped himself up with his and Sue's pillows and picked up his book. Soft music played on his small bedside radio as Mopey blissfully snored at the foot of the bed. He thought to himself that even though his love was gone, he was content with his cabin life after.


~SeaBreeze
 
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Inspirational. He found a way to continue on without his love with some degree of contentment. Very nice, Seabreeze!
 
Who I Am

I woke this morning to the sun rays peeking through my window, my cat stretched out soaking in the warmth on a little blue rug on the floor. Sitting up in bed, I reach for my socks, chilly in the house before I turn on the heat and one drops to the floor. Reaching down for it I quietly groan, as with time each move takes more effort.

I boil some water in the teapot for a cup of coffee, while I scramble myself some eggs, making one extra for my kitty. My slice of toast pops up and I quickly spread some butter so it melts evenly across the bread. Breakfast is lazy as I enjoy my newspaper and read about the good and bad things happening outside of my walls. I do the puzzle as far as I can to get my old brain in gear for the day.

Looking in the fridge I see that I'm low on cheese, cream and tomatoes so I get ready to venture out to the market. Bending down to tie my shoes I find myself grunting again and feeling a little frustrated at the challenges these every day tasks suddenly present. With a sigh I put on my sweater and grab my folding grocery cart to walk to the store two blocks away. Walking by the houses a little one smiles and waves and I return the favor, all alone now I miss being around the babies, mine has already passed, along with my beloved husband. The smile stays with me as I walk the aisles looking for more things I might need, including some canned food for my furbaby.

As I get back home and enter the house, the phone starts ringing. I rush as fast as I can to answer it and see who might be calling me. It's an old friend of mine who lives around the corner. Understanding her was very hard for me as my hearing is failing and her voice was breaking up with emotion. She told me that a week ago her husband had suffered a heart attack and passed away, she wanted to call me sooner but she was overwhelmed with grief and disbelief and couldn't stop crying long enough to even hold a conversation with anyone.

I invited her over to chat, I thought it would be good for her to get out of her house, even for a couple of hours. She quickly agreed and wanted to be with someone besides her little poodle Fluffy, I told her to make sure she brought the dog with her because I had a nice liver treat for him. Around ten minutes later, my doorbell rang and I greeted my dear friend. As we hugged each other, tears escaped from our eyes, after so many years neither of us could believe that she was now all alone too.

I made us a pot of tea and had a small bottle of fine boysenberry liqueur to add to the tea to make her more relaxed and soothed. As she gave me the details of the last hours with her loving husband she sobbed uncontrollably, just as I did a long time ago. I put my arm around her and held her to my breast comforting her and assuring her that she wasn't alone, I would always be there for her just 'round the corner, day or night. I asked her to stay the night in our guest room and have dinner with me, her pup and my cat were already curled up on the couch together. She was very pleased with the offer and didn't really want to go back to an empty house that night.

I made us both some broiled chicken breast with mashed potatoes and gravy and some fresh cauliflower. We shared some wine with dinner, since I knew she didn't have to walk back home anymore. We spent the evening chatting in front of the TV and reminiscing about old times together, even our husbands were close friends who often went out fishing together on the lake.

After freshening the sheets in the guest room and getting things ready for her to spend the night, I took a quick shower and put on my nightgown. I felt exhausted both emotionally and physically after my day and gazed into the mirror as I brushed my hair. I was looking at my mother, and felt strangely proud. The grunts, groans, tears and love I have, all given to me by that woman who made me who I am this day.

~SeaBreeze
 
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Thanks Arachne, please make up one of your own and post it here. :love_heart:
 
I too have enjoyed reading your three stories, SB, and I liked the one about Joe and his dog especially. When you write this completed collection in book form one day, be sure to title it "Sea Breezes"!......or maybe "Contentment, She Wrote";)
 
Thank you Meanderer. :) These are just little stories, not book worthy for sure. :eek: I did start writing a book a long time ago, lost interest and ripped it before page 50.
 
Patiently Waiting

We leisurely canoe across the peaceful lake, it's early evening and the sun begins to set. My sweet husband, love of my life, who grew old by my side, looks very handsome and youthful with the sun setting behind him. His rich brown hair is now silvered and his face has become weathered, but it just adds to his attractiveness and manliness, the things that drew me to him when I was a young woman. I feel as blessed and as much in love as I did fifty years ago when we first found each other and became one to be friends and lovers for eternity.

Our outings are challenging at times but one of the many precious things we enjoy doing together as a couple. We start towards the shoreline to make a bite for supper followed by retreating into our tent for a good night's sleep. Carl starts a small wood fire surrounded by rocks and sets out little wire grill on top. I fill an old pot with my homemade chicken soup and make some roast beef sandwiches on rolls to go with it.

As we slowly enjoy our meal, the skies begin to darken and the stars start to twinkle. As we look to the heavens and soak in the wonder of it all, our eyes meet, he takes my hand and we kiss ever so gently. His arms around me feels just as good as when we first married, I love this man and he's made my life so wonderful, even a warm hug from him fills me with emotion.

We carefully get onto the ground and make our way into the tent. We decide to read a little by the light of flickering candles, until we can no longer keep our old eyes open. Snuggling together in our sleeping bag, we are so content and comfortable. A buzzing startles me awake, it's 6 am, and I have an appointment with my eye doctor for advice on a possible cataract surgery. A sad and lonely cloud comes over me as a tear rolls down my cheek and I quickly realize once more that it was all just a dream.

I'm thankful to have dreamed about my Carl again because it's the only way we can spend time together since his passing. But in many ways, I wish those dreams would continue and never stop, and I would never wake. It's hard to live with only his memory but he would want me to be well and strong and just wait for the day that we can be in each others arms again. I'm in no hurry, I know my love will be patiently waiting to welcome me when my time comes to leave this good earth.


~SeaBreeze
 
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Meanwhile, in the Southwest....

Tumbleweed​
They call me Tubby because I’m very large, and in another place, and another time, I would be King, but in this time, and in this place, it is my friend Tyranny that is King, for he is truly enormous! We call him Tyranny, a nickname, but his true name is Tyrannosaurus, a huge round beast that dwarfs us all. Tyranny and I live in a sheltered place at the base of a small bluff beside a desert wash. The winter snows drifted here and in the spring, the melt water added to the cache of soil moisture, so that we have grown well in these favored conditions, and are sheltered somewhat from the drying winds. We are surrounded by our smaller relatives, Tupelo, the greasy one, little Timmy and Tessie, and at the edge of the wash grows Tumult, that we call Tums.

Sometimes at night, when the others are asleep, Tyranny and I talk softly of our plans for the future. It is not enough for us just to be, and together we plan to do great things. There is a great day coming and it’s coming soon, a day when we will break free of our anchor root and roll free across the prairie, but we plan to do more, much more! Interstate 40 runs near us and it is 4 lanes wide. The prevailing winds will blow us diagonally across it, but to reach it, we must avoid two obstacles; one is a step-sided arroyo that traps many of our kind, and then there is the fence along side the highway. Tyranny and I plan to hold to our root as long as possible and let our less focused brethren fill the arroyo and others will lodge against the fence forming a ramp over this obstacle. Then we will roll free! My dream is to terrorize a Volkswagen, but Tyranny plans to cow a Buick! With luck, we can avoid the 18-wheelers long enough to wreak havoc on the freeway before we roll on to Zuni!

Today, I can feel my root weakening as the wind worries it, but not yet! Not yet! The others have rolled on today but Tyranny and I hold fast this day.

The wind is higher today, and the path is clear, the arroyo filled, the fence packed. Today we roll! If I lean to the left, I can angle that way, and if I lean to the right, I move that way! Not precise steering, but it helps, we have cleared the freeway fence now and are heading into oncoming traffic. There! I see it! A yellow Volkswagen bug! And right beside it, a huge Black Buick! Our quarry is in sight and we make our move! Ah! The sweet smell of burning brakes! There! See them swerve and fishtail! Long have I lived for this, our day of glory! And then on to the other lanes and across as tires squeal in our wake! Such a glorious day!

 
:clap: Thanks for posting your tale Timetrvlr, enjoyed it very much and can relate to Tubby and Tyranny in my neck of the woods.
 
Tastes like chicken​
I once worked with a fellow that was from Indonesia and we became pretty good friends. He told me that he immigrated to Canada because he had gotten crossways in a political feud back home. His occupation there was a professional hunter, he hunted crocodiles for their skins. On one occasion, he and his partner were camped on a high spot near the river and during the night, the torrential monsoon rains started. Next morning they found themselves marooned on an island in the middle of a raging torrent, far from shore with no boat. The rains continued for three months as the monsoon rains do. He and his partner continued to take crocodiles and had everything they needed although their food supplies were running low so they ate crocodile. He told me that for the first while, crocodile tasted just like chicken but after three months, it just tasted like crocodile!

 
Interesting story Timetrvlr, but I know it must be true, the chicken taste must fade after all that time!
 
My Father’s Time

My father was born in on a west Texas ranch in 1885. Life then was pretty good compared to the early days when the Comanche and Kiowa raiders were a constant threat. Railroads had extended their lines down into Texas so the long cattle drives to Kansas railheads were a hardship of the past. The family could afford to send most of their kids to school so my father had a twelfth-grade education. My great-uncle had run away from home and enlisted (underage) in the Civil war but my Grandfather was too young to have shared that adventure. My father and his brothers continued working in the family enterprises of ranching and farming.

Later, my father’s step-mother grew quite ill and the Doctor advised the family to move to a cooler climate that might allow her a better chance of survival. So, in 1915, the family loaded all they owned into covered wagons and rode west into New Mexico eventually settling in river valleys of the Rocky Mountains in a higher, cooler climate. My Grandfather acquired land and started a ranching occupation while my father and his brother operated a freight wagon business hauling supplies to Mogollon, a mining town in the mountains.

Later, my father homesteaded 160 acres on the boundary of the Gila Wilderness Area, built a log cabin for himself, and found work operating a fish hatchery back in the mountains during spring and summer. He also contracted to build a trail system throughout the Gila Wilderness Area. In the fall, he took out Texas hunting parties for deer but he kept most of the meat (venison) for his own use while his clients kept their trophy deer heads. In winter, he ran trap lines in the mountains and collected occasional bounties for mountain lion and coyote.

His idyllic bachelor life changed in 1925 when a lifelong friend and hunting buddy introduced him by mail to a Missouri schoolteacher. They corresponded for months and in 1926, she can west to visit. Apparently they liked each other well enough and he proposed marriage while she was sitting atop a corral rail at his father’s ranch. They moved into his little bachelor’s cabin and quickly decided it was a bit too cramped so he built a larger, better log cabin next to it.

My brother was born in the fall of 1927 and the following spring, they loaded him into a pannier on a gentle pack mule and hauled him and many 10-gallon milk cans full of fish fry to Jenk’s Cabin, a remote trout fish hatchery back in the mountains. There he fed and cared for the fish fry in cold, high mountain ponds. In late summer, he distributed them, again by pack mule, to a dozen or so mountain streams that headed up in those peaks.

It was a pretty remote existence, the nearest and only neighbour was thee miles away, the nearest village was thirty. So, in 1932, in the depths of the Great Depression, my father managed to sell his homestead to an adjoining ranch and buy a farm in the upper Gila River valley with 40 acres of bottomland under irrigation. It was only four miles on the school bus route from the nearest school in the little farm village of Gila.

My parent’s home was a fairly spacious four room adobe with cement floors, a tin roof, and a large screened-in porch with cement floor. For those not familiar with adobe, they are large sun-baked mud bricks, an inheritance of the early pueblo Indian builders. Ours sported 18” thick walls, cool in summer and warm in winter. Interior walls were plastered white; the outside walls were left bare. Few rural homes had bathrooms or running water and ours was no exception. Water was hand pumped from a dug well and the outhouse was down by the barn. Heating was entirely from a huge wood-burning cook stove salvaged from a restaurant.

Dad farmed the 40 acres with a team and hand implements while grazing a few head on the other forty acres of scrub and pasture. Nearly all the money earned on the farm went to pay down the mortgage but there was plenty of good home-grown food and a nearby school for my brother to attend. Many others were not so fortunate during the Great Depression years.

I came along in the spring of 1938. My father was 52 at the time and my mother was 40. My earliest memory was of my attempted elopement with a little red-headed girl on her tricycle in downtown Los Angeles. My mother had taken me along when she visited her two sisters living there during the war years. Later, I remember being rescued by my brother from and irrigation ditch in mid-winter. Apparently I was adept at finding trouble.

My folks prospered a bit more during the war years because my father had obtained a few milk cows and they were able to sell butter for premium prices because it was in such short supply during the war. Most of the skimmed milk was used to feed the hogs providing pork and bacon that also sold for premium prices during the war. My father also took a job as night watchman at a local mining mill, and then farmed during the day raising hay for the cattle and grain for the hogs and chickens. The farm mortgage was paid off in 1947 and there was enough to buy our first tractor which meant that farming was so much easier and more efficient.

They sold the farm in 1949 and bought a smaller place which my father immediately started a large garden then expanded to a small farm when he bought a small tractor. He also went to work for the State Highway Department but was forced into retirement at 65. Later, my mother passed a civil service exam and became the new post mistress bringing in a much-needed income.
 
Christmas Love


Christmas rolls around again and Rose is excited about spending it with her devoted husband Joseph, the love of her life. She's known Joe since they were young children and then they wed sixty glorious years ago, since then they've been inseparable.

She's been feeling her age these past several years with arthritis and other problems so the days of making fancy meals are in the past. She prepares a small boneless white meat turkey roll, some homemade mashed potatoes with gravy and some creamed spinach. She slowly walks over to the fireplace and lights a small log to make the house cozy and warm. She puts on some soothing Christmas music, one of their favorite old albums.

Rose brings out a special bottle of raspberry brandy and pours herself a small glass. Gazing into the flames she tells Joe how much he means to her and how she'll spend each and every Christmas cherishing his love and companionship as long as the good Lord wills it. She brings out an old photo album of them in their youth when their love was new and tender, she comments on some of the pictures while smiling and even laughing at some, but some bring a tear.

She sits at the small wooden table with her favorite holiday table cloth on it that was passed down by her mother, and slowly eats her dinner while glancing into Joseph's eyes as she reminisces about the good times they've shared together. After dinner she clears the table and does the dishes. The brandy is making her eyes heavy, and she decides to retire early.

She sets her photo of her beloved Joe on the nightstand as she puts on her gown. Getting comfortable under the warmth of the blankets she takes the photo, kisses it gently and quietly whispers Merry Christmas sweetheart, I'm so thankful you're here with me, you're in my every heartbeat. Tonight it doesn't go back on the nightstand, she darkens the room and holds it close to her heart, faintly whispering good night love.
 
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I LOVE THIS!

I will try to submit one of my own after the New Year. But I'm not really very good at coming up with stories. But I'll try.

The thing that worked for me is on another message board, I started a post where I asked for a story start where other posters would contribute with each new post. It turned out that only me and another poster participated. She started it and then each of us continued on for quite a long time and we had eventually an entire mini novel. It was about a woman when she was just a little girl where her even younger sister went running after a guinea pig who escaped and then she never came back and was found murdered at the back of the house in the neighborhood. So this surviving sister made it a goal of her life to find out who killed her sister.

It went along for quite a long time, even weeks passed by sometimes. But eventually the mystery was resolved. We had our disagreements in the writing of the thing, because after all we never got together as to what we were going to decide was the end result, etc. It was just written by the seat of our pants. But I think we overall did really well.
 
Thanks Olivia, I hope you share a little story here in this thread for us when you're in the mood, I'll be looking forward to it. This thread is for one author short stories.

There are some story games in the Games section here when one person writes a line to a story and the next person continues with another line and so on. If you don't see a story game that you like, you can always start a fresh one of your own there.
 
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