Monday, June 22, 2009


Penelope was tired. She was tired of fighting, of trying to hang on. The pain was unbearable, excruciating. Every movement hurt, even blinking. It was time to end it.

Hearing his key in the lock, she braced herself.

“What the hell?” he screamed, sighting the mess in the floor. “Clean it up, bitch!”

Penelope spit in his face. “No.”

The blow was strong, but not strong enough.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted.

His fists reigned down then. With the pain came release. Penelope smiled, being in control of her own fate for a change felt awesome.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Forbidden Swim

This is my contribution to the Your Photo Story prompt for the week.

Amber watched the cool, clear water cascade over the rocks and splash into the stream below. She dipped her toes in the stream, testing the water temperature. Cold but bearable, she thought, scanning the tree line to see if anyone else was around.

Suppressing a girlish giggle, she started unbuttoning her blouse. By the time she was down to her knickers, she was shaking with anticipation. She knew the water was going to feel delicious.

“Aw, heaven,” she murmured, submerging up to her neck.

She swam and frolicked in the water for over an hour before the chill in the air caught her attention. Standing, she quickly covered her breasts and looked around, making sure she was still alone.

She slipped out of her knickers as fast as possible, and then donned her blouse and skirt. With one last, lingering glance at the falls and stream, she sighed and turned for home.

The man in the bushes wiped sweat from his brow. His hands were shaking he was so overworked from what he had just witnessed. “Heaven indeed,” he whispered, watching the woman disappear around the bend.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Reap the Oats You Sow

This is my contribution for this week's Your Photo Story prompt.

Jeb sat on the porch in his rocker, shotgun across his lap. He squinted into the distance, waiting for the first sign of dust to signal Marybeth’s return.

“That girl’s gonna be sorry she was ever born,” he muttered, spitting tobacco in a spittoon by his side.

“Aw, don’t be too hard on her, Jeb,” Sarah said from the doorway. “She’s just sowing her oats.”

“Wild oats, no doubt,” Jeb spat. “With that Williams boy.”

“He’s not a bad boy,” Sarah assured Jeb.

“Never said he was,” Jeb replied. “He’s just not good enough for my little girl.”

“Nobody’s gonna be good enough for Marybeth in your eyes, Jeb.”

“Damn right!” Jeb agreed, and spit another wad into the spittoon.

“She’s grown, Jeb. You gotta let her live her own life.”

“She can live her own life when she has he own house.”

“You never change,” Sarah sighed.

Jeb shrugged, and went back to rocking. Sarah knew there was no talking to him once he made up his mind. She went back in the house, waiting for the fight to come. Because as stubborn as Jeb was, Marybeth had him beat.

A few minutes later, Sarah heard the rocker stop squeaking. She stopped washing dishes, took a deep breath, and waited to hear what happened.

“Where’ve you been, girl?” Jeb demanded as soon as Marybeth and Jacob stepped onto the porch.

“We got married, Pa,” Marybeth said, smile beaming.

“You what!” Jeb shouted, jumping up and engaging the shotgun. “I’m gonna kill you, boy. Say your prayers now.”

“Pa!” Marybeth yelled, stepping in front of Jacob. “Hear me out.”

“I don’t care what you got to say,” Jeb shouted.

“I’m pregnant, Pa,” Marybeth whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You’re gonna be a grandpa.”

“I…what?” Jeb sputtered, falling hard into the rocker.

“Oh, baby,” Sarah said, rushing out the door and engulfing Marybeth in a hug. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” Marybeth said. Pulling Jacob over, she added, “We’re both very happy about this baby.”

“That’s good.” Sarah offered, sliding a glance at Jeb.

“Well, you ain’t raising it here,” Jeb snapped.

“Jeb!” Sarah squealed. “Don’t be that way.”

“It’s ok, Ma. We don’t need to live here. Jacob rented us a place in town.”

Sarah couldn’t help herself. She poked Jeb in the ribs and said, “I guess she can live her own life then, huh?”

Truth by Mail

This is my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt.

Samantha learned the folly of her ways after a particularly hostile missive arrived in the mail.

“Now I know what a sexy man like him was doing with an ordinary woman like me,” she sighed, tearing the letter his wife had sent up and throwing it in the trash.