The Death of Me

February 5, 2015October 21, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 4 Comments

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100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#166. Prompt: … checking in proved to be…

A different take on this weeks prompt. Hope you enjoy.

A tap on the wall next to the curtain stirred me. “Mrs. Cole?” A moan escaped as I shut my eyes in protest to the bright light. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said, “Is this a bad time?”

A bad time? I moved my head back and forth, wincing with the effort.

She held a clipboard out to me. “I’m from the business office and need a few signatures for you insurance.”

Sucking on my oxygen mask, I reached for the pen making an illegible mark. Exhausted I closed my eyes… checking in proved to be the death of me.

A Woman Her Age

January 27, 2015October 21, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 21 Comments

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#165 Prompt: …the suitcase lay open…

Betty picked at her cuticles and stared at the bed. The suitcase lay open waiting for her decision. Yes or No? Fred had been adamant. “No, you’re not going. A woman your age has no business traipsing off to Europe. “I won’t allow it.”

The bucket list she’d written years ago, placed Paris as number one. She wasn’t getting younger, it was now or never.

He won’t allow it?

Fuming, she stomped across the room, jerked open the dresser, grabbed a hand full of underwear, and threw them in the suitcase.

“He’ll get over it.”

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Taste of Freedom

January 12, 2015October 21, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 13 Comments

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#163: After the dreadful events in France last week, the prompt for your 100 Words is: FREEDOM

gstatic images

Norma crept by the sofa where Adam lay, passed out after his little welcome home. She stared at the groceries scattered and broken on the floor and the trail of red pasta sauce.

She eased her battered body into the kitchen chair, blotted her lip with tissue, and placed an ice pack against her swollen jaw.

She watched the fall and rise of his chest and felt the weight in her apron pocket. The metal cold against her skin, she walked toward him.

Tired of tasting blood, Norma was ready for a taste of freedom.