A Bad Memory

Julia’s latest prompt 100 WCGU’s:…    this time next year…  

Sarah snapped the latches on the old suitcase with its cracked and worn leather,  swept the tears from her face with an angry brush of her hand, and stared at the remnants of her marriage. Hell would freeze over before she shed another tear.

The expensive décor seemed pretentious and empty, now. Sad she’d ever bought into his madness, Sarah lifted the suitcase from the bed and turned to leave. Today was the beginning of everything new and this time next year, he and this house would be but, a bad memory.

94 Words

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Who Will Speak For Them?

100WCGU – Week#175  …but shall we close the borders…

images-4This week, Julia has given us a prompt that may  provoke  thought or even stir the caldron of  controversy.  I hope my story makes you think, especially about the victims.  ~~~~~

“To forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.” Elie Wiesel 

~~~~~~~

Jason reached for his wife. The bed was cold and empty. He hurried down the stairs, sniffing the air for the coffee Sarah would have waiting. No coffee? He shivered. “Honey?”

He stepped into the dark kitchen and reality grabbed him around the throat. Shaking, he sank into a chair. How could dinner turn into such terror?

He didn’t want to watch news coverage of the attacks, but he needed to.

His anger grew as he listened to the reporter defend and lecture … but, shall we close the borders?

Where was the outrage, compassion, and sympathy for the victims?

Who would speak for them?

“I will, Sarah,” he said, his anger turning to tears. “I will.”

 

 

 

 

 

The Fiery Hero

fire-orange-emergency-burning-medium100WCGU: This week’s Prompt # 173:   …as the flames leapt skyward…

Ten minutes after Kyle arrived at his dream job, the alarm sounded.

“Hey rookie, you’re gonna need this.” The Chief Officer tossed him his helmet.

“Thanks,” Kyle said, climbing in beside him.

“Flip the switch, kid.” Kyle’s heart thundered against his chest as the siren blared to life.

The Chief raced toward the destination as dispatch gave the coordinates.

“Any souls inside?” The chief asked the dispatcher.

“First responder says one.”

Kyle’s breath caught. Dammit, It was supposed to be abandoned. He stared as the flames leapt skyward. Collateral damage, the price you paid sometimes to become a hero.

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Pillow Talk

100WCGU – Week#172  This week’s prompt: …the howling dog, the moon and the creaking boards made for …  

Okay, I’ll confess. This little story is over the 100-word mark. I couldn’t help it, I had too much fun writing this one. I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.

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“Ouch! Jeez Peg, watch where you step.”

“Sorry, I can’t see shit.”

Dressed from head to toe in black, the only thing I could see were the whites of my sister’s eyes.

Like inexperienced Ninja’s we sprinted from behind the garden bushes and ran. Peg’s heavy breathing bounced across the dark lawn, like an angry wind.

Pressed against the house, I whirled to face my two co-conspirators. “Jesus, Peg, you’d wake the dead.”

Her snippy whisper came back at me. “Sorry, we can’t all be yoga queens.”

Polly patted her jacket. “Relax, that’s why we brought the pillows.”

Like three overweight cat burglars, we eased the back door open. The howling dog, the moon, and the creaking boards made for a lousy backdrop of courage as we pulled the pillows from underneath our jackets and went in search of our retired and unsuspecting husbands.