Be True to Yourself

 My micro fiction piece for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week.

Cindy was going to baffle all her father’s guests. She knew they expected her to show up in jeans and a t-shirt, but she had other plans. For once, she was going to be presentable.

“Ok, here goes nothing,” Cindy whispered to herself while she stood at the top of the stairs and looked down on the party. “You can do this.”

The partygoers never noticed how elegant she looked, because half way down the staircase she tripped. Cindy was sure that tumbling down a flight of stairs and ending up with your dress over your head tends to negate any positive image you wished to convey.

“Wear your sneakers next time,” her father said and winked as he helped her up. 

All my 3WW writers please check out this link. I am giving away an autographed copy of one of the Circle8Writers anthologies. Our anthologies contain short stories, flash fiction and poetry. There is sure to be something in them for everyone. All you have to do to enter is go to the Giveaway post and leave a comment with your name. The winner will be randomly selected at the end of the month. Good luck!

Giveaway!

Along with writing fiction for blogs, I am a member of Circle8Writers, a group of authors who collaborate on short story, flash fiction and poetry anthologies. In appreciation of all who read my storyboard blog, I am doing a giveaway of one of Circle 8’s anthologies.

On March 31, 2012, I will use an online randomizer to pick the winner from all entries. If you would like to enter to receive a free, autographed anthology, leave a comment with your name on this post. Whoever wins, can pick the anthology he or she wants from the following 6 Circle 8 Anthologies:

Consequences

Consequences: Crime and Punishment

Dark Christmas

Roses and Thorns

Mother’s & Other Strangers

Apocryphilia

Good luck and happy reading!

Know Thy Mother

My latest piece for Three Word Wednesday. Just one micro fiction story this time.


“You’re such a deviant,” Shell mocked. “As if that minuscule amount of alcohol will send you straight to hell. If you really want to shock your mother, find something less trivial. After all, she is a product of the sixties.”

A Crinkle in Plans

Here are my micro fiction's for Three Word Wednesday this week. Let me know which one you like best.

Story 1:

A crinkle formed on Charlie’s brow as he tried to navigate the busy intersection. A sudden demand from his GPS system turned the crinkle to an outright frown when he came to a stop just before hitting a newly constructed building.

Story 2:

It’s hard to navigate the twisting roads of a relationship. So many demands and mistakes put a crinkle in the love of even the best couples.

Story 3:

“I want crinkle fries,” was the demand Abby made while she and her mom navigated the frozen food section. “They hold ketchup better.”

Outside the Cabin

A friend of mine, Derek Odom, posted Outside the Cabin as a writing prompt on Facebook.  Here is the story I came up with off the prompt. I hope y'all enjoy it.

Shelly heard laughter tinkle in from outside the cabin. It was a beautiful day, sunny with a breeze off the water, and the other kids were out enjoying it. Not Shelly. She was staying inside. Where it was safe.

Shelly knew her mother would be disappointed when she found out, and she always found out. Shelly was convinced her mother had spies at camp. How else would she know everything Shelly did and didn’t do?

If only she would have let me stay home, Shelly thought for the thousandth time. I knew this was a bad idea. But, of course, her mother would hear nothing of it. “You have to go to camp, Shelly. All the other children at the club are going.” Shelly started to ask her mother if all the other kids jumped off a cliff would she want her to as well, but then thought better of it. She had heard somewhere not to ask a question you didn’t really want the answer to.

Things went downhill from the start. Actually, before the start. 

The other kids started tormenting Shelly on the bus ride to camp. 

First, it was the teasing. 

“Did your mom have to pay for two seats on the bus? That’s what they do for people like you on planes.” 

“Now that you’re here, we can reenact Moby Dick this year for the camp play.”

Then it got worse. The poking. “I just wanted to see if you’d pop.” And the ridicule. “Man, something sure does stink in here.” 

Shelly tried to block it all out, to not let it bother her, but she never really could. No matter how big she was, her skin never seemed to grow thicker. 

It had been three weeks now and nothing was better. Every day someone made fun of her. The camp counselors were no better. They made Shelly go swimming with the others, knowing what would happen, and they wouldn’t allow Shelly to wear shorts and a t-shirt. No, they made her wear the swimsuit her mother had sent. Shelly lost count of the number of times she heard beached whale. 

The games were the worst. Nobody wanted to pick Shelly for his or her team. That was fine for Shelly because she didn’t want to play anyway, but, of course, that was out of the question. She was picked by whoever chose last and then the fun really started. 

Shelly couldn’t run, shoot basketball or play any of the other games. Not that the other kids cared. They were only too happy to make sport of Shelly instead. She had more bruises than she could count and ached from head to toe. Shelly wondered if she would survive the next three weeks. 

While laughter flowed over her, Shelly cried. Yes, she would stay inside. It wasn’t safe outside the cabin.

Labor of Love

Here's my piece for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week:

There’s no way I’ll be able to wear this, Janice thought, staring wistfully at the cute, pink thong Victoria Secret had on sale. At least not until I lose thirty pounds. She cried as she hit the delete button to cancel her order and pulled the elastic waistband of her granny panties away from her bulging tummy. I can’t wait to go into labor, she thought and her tears turned to laughter when she looked down at herself. Thirty pounds my ass. More like fifty.

Family Matters

My newest micro fiction piece for Three Word Wednesday. Hope y'all like this one.

Amber gave no thought to controlling the amount of pressure she applied to the flesh of her wrist with the razor. By that point, she was beyond caring how big a mess she made in her mother’s life.

Perspective

Three stories for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. Same plot, different versions. Which is your favorite?



Jarred thought he was ok until he felt a jolt, along with a surge of adrenaline, when he saw the parachute detach from the plane.


___________________________________________

With a jolt, the parachute detached from the plane, sending a surge of adrenaline through Jarred as he gazed at the ground approaching.

___________________________________________

Adrenaline surged through Jarred when he saw the parachute of the guy in front of him detach from the plane. With a jolt from behind, he realized he was next, and suddenly, he wasn’t so sure about this latest midlife crisis of his.

Near Miss

My micro fiction piece for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week.


 

Jeremy was lucky to walk away with just a sliver of wood from the sled as a reminder of his near death experience. Were it not for a freak twist of fate, his downhill slide would have ended in disaster. Instead, his friends all had a good laugh when he barely clipped the tree and flipped head over heels.

Three for Three Word Wednesday

Here are three micro fiction pieces for the Three Word Wednesday prompt. I hope y'all like at least one of them.


 Heartache

Angie sat in the corner, a sullen pout marring her face where just yesterday a radiant smile resided. When anyone asked what was wrong, she replied, “It’s brutal when trust is broken,” and started crying. 

 Leap of Faith

“Trust me, it’ll be fun.” Mark said before jumping from the plane with a brutal jerk. Jamie held on for dear life, the sullen sky the only witness to her terror. 

 Trust Yourself

Deidre looked at her mother sitting on the front row of the church, a frown upon her face, and remembered the woman’s words from long ago. “The world is a scary, brutal place, Deidre. You have to be smarter and stronger than the rest to survive.” 

Deidre couldn’t remember the number of times her mother had pounded that fact into her head. “Never trust anyone,” was another bit of advice she doled out often.

But Deidre decided to ignore all her mother’s warnings. She demanded that life be fun, exciting and happy. Not that Deidre wasn’t smart…she was. She was smart enough to know her mother’s life had shaped her worldview, and that the sullen mood her mother was always in didn’t have to be life for her. 

Deidre was strong too. Strong enough to place her trust in another person, to give her heart to him. Because Deidre knew that life without love would be brutal indeed. 

A radiant smile covered Deidre’s face as she placed her hand in Micheal's, and she began the next stage of her life. Another quick look in her mother’s direction confirmed that nothing had changed, but Deidre didn’t care. With a deep breath, she spoke her vows and let the chips fall where they may.

A Little Kernel of Doubt

My newest story for the Three Word Wednesday prompt. It's a little different style for me, but I hope y'all still like it.

 

In the Realm of Possibility lived a little Kernel named Doubt. Nobody really liked Doubt because he was always causing trouble. Whether it was breaking up relationships, ending careers or just causing general unease, doubt was always being naughty, but the worst thing Doubt did, yes the worst thing by far, was when he committed murder.

Doubt didn’t mean to cause trouble; he just did what came naturally. He didn’t have a tactic or plan of action. He didn’t set out to hurt anyone. In fact, Doubt often wondered why bad things happened when he was around. It seemed that his mere presence made the optimistic people in the Realm of Possibility lose perspective and start wondering. He didn’t have to say a word.

Oh, but when he did start talking, things went from bad to worse. 

You could ask Joy what it was like to listen to Doubt, but she was no longer around. The people of Possibility missed Joy’s laughter and love, but what they missed most was her happiness. When Doubt killed Joy, he changed the very fiber of the realm. 

The things that made Joy Joy were also what killed her. The people of the Realm of Possibility thought that if only Joy had turned away when Doubt started talking, she would still be with them. But Joy couldn’t do that. She always wanted to help, to make others as happy as she was. So when Doubt started asking questions, she tried to answer, never knowing the answers were going to be the end of her, and that they would plunge the realm into sadness.

The first question of, “Why are you happy all the time?” was innocent enough. 

Joy gladly replied, “Because the world is beautiful, the people are safe and secure, and life is good.”

“What about Mary and Sam? They’re no longer together. Their world fell apart.”

Joy paused a minute before answering, thinking about the couple who had recently broken apart. “They will find their way. Maybe not together, but the world is full of happiness. We just have to be open to new things.”

Doubt shook his head. “Sometimes people can’t cope. I’ve seen them do terrible things to themselves and each other. How do you account for that?”

The thought of her selfish sister touching the inhabitants of Possibility made Joy weep. “Sometimes Despair reaches them before I can.” Joy answered. “She causes misery wherever she goes.”

“So life isn’t always good for people, but still, you’re always happy?” Doubt asked.

Joy hung her head as shame overcame her. She had never thought of it that way, but Doubt was right. How could she sit above the world, where nothing touched her, and talk about life being good, when those below were sad and upset. What right did she have to be happy when they were not?

While thoughts such as these swirled through her brain, Joy’s heart withered, until finally, her light went out, the last spark dying in sadness.

It took a while for the realm to figure out what happened. When they did, they went to the zenith to have a word with the Wise, but this time, it wasn’t enough. The Wise didn’t know how to fix things. He couldn’t bring Joy back. 

He told them that they could still be happy, that it was possible to make things better again, but they didn’t believe him. Because, you see, in the absence of Joy, even the smallest Doubt is too much, and the people in the Realm of Possibility were lost.

Bully, Bully

I finally got back to the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. I hope y'all enjoy my little story.



“We can do this,” Charles assured the others. “We’ll teach him not to pick on us anymore.”

“But he’s so big,” James replied.

Charles patted him on the shoulder. “I know, but there are five of us.”

James still wasn’t convinced they could pull it off. He had always been on the receiving end of pranks, never the giving end.

“We have to quit being so passive and take charge of our lives,” Charles told them, raising his fist into the air. “Aren’t you tired of being bullied all the time?” he asked.

“Yes!” they answered in unison.

“Then let’s do this!” He demanded.

The other boys looked at each other, still not sure, but caught up in the excitement, and, more than that, wanting to get a little of their own back.

Charles gathered up the supplies and ordered the others to follow him. He knew he had to hurry or they might change their minds, and he couldn’t accomplish the task without them because they were right about one thing. Brett Jordan was big.

They hid beside the school until they spotted Brett leave the gym.

“Now,” Charles told Michael, the smallest of the group, before pushing him forward.
Michael stumbled around the corner, right into Brett’s path. As expected, Brett shoved the smaller boy to the ground and stood over him screaming obscenities.

While he was occupied, the others put their plan into action.

“Go,” Charles ordered, putting the net over Brett’s head. The other boys rushed forward and took advantage of Brett’s shock to pull duct tape round and round his body. Michael then grabbed Brett around the knees and pulled him to the ground. Once he was secured, they put the last strip across his mouth to silence the cursing.

The boys ignored Brett’s mumbling and smiled as Charles took the flag out of his backpack and secured it with more tape into the bigger boy’s hand.

The next morning the school paper showed the bound and gagged Brett laying in the dirt with a black flag sticking up, proudly announcing ‘Geeks Rule’.