A Delicate Touch: Micro-Fiction #Monday’sMuse #Romance #Fiction

Watching him took her breath away. It was strange how he was so out of place on that land, and yet, somehow, he fit. 

It shouldn’t have shocked her. Although he’d been a drifter all of his life, farming was in his blood, or as he had reluctantly shared with her, horses.

He’d moved to town, taking ownership of his great-uncle’s farm when her parents’ loan had defaulted and ownership reverted back to the Latfield’s next of kin. Sage Latefield was that man.

Without him having said so, Livia knew that her family’s loss had become the biggest break in Sage’s life. He seemed to light up whenever he looked over the land, ran his fingers over the swaying heads of grass as if he were touching precious children.

The man had a delicate touch. She didn’t know it personally but the more she watched him, the more she learned him, the more she wanted to.

THE INBETWEEN…

*I hope you enjoyed that little nugget of Livia’s thoughts toward Sage Latefield. I had to stop there as the story has done far more talking than I expected and has given me the synopsis for a full-length novel, or a decent sized novella. Either way, there is much more to their story than the 150 words or so, shared today. Thanks for reading my results for Mondays’ Muse Writing Prompt August 14th, 2017.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: August 14th 2017 #Monday’sMuse #CreativeWriting #WritingPrompt

OPENING LINE (S): “Watching him took her breath away. It was strange how he was so out of place on that land, and yet, somehow, he fit.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: August 7th, 2017

OPENING LINE (S): “She stood paralyzed in the face of destruction, knowing full well she should run for cover. But the way the wind seemed to snatch the air from her lungs, kept her in place, no, it drew her closer toward the danger.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Like Sunshine

The taste of his lips made her think of sunshine, the way it gently warmed her evoking a smile. The pleasure if it was new, his kiss, she’d never been kissed before, and yet this felt right.

He was right.

The wait for this moment, the diligent guarding of her heart had led her to feel like a lone soldier keeping vigil over the sacred, and this was sacred, the melodic play of his lips with hers.

The sense of blooming in her soul, called forth by such intimate waters, was meant to flourish into a garden where more life would grow. And it would grow with sweetness and hope.

And it all began with a precious kiss.

THE BEGINNING

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

 

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: July 31st, 2017 #Monday’sMuse #CreativeWriting #Fiction

OPENING LINE (S): “Is it wrong that I hope the knife slips and he cut off his fingertip? Sam is not a cook! He can’t even microwave a hot dog, yet for her, he seems to be making the extra effort.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Playing Fair: A Short Story #amwriting #family #story

Truth was, he didn’t want to parent, let alone know how to parent. But staring at her solemn face, eyes ready for seemingly common rejection, he didn’t feel as if he had a choice.

“Are you my dad?” she asked with very little enthusiasm, the ears of her bunny slippers flopping with the same cadence as the grandmother clock on the mantle.

Jared suddenly felt ill. He adjusted the collar of his button up shirt and cleared his throat, his blue eyes, the same as hers, glancing to the window as if that were a way out.

“No,” he croaked. He was stunned at his own tone but she, Lou, Loula Grace, seemed not to notice. He swallowed and tried his answer again. “No, I am not your dad. Dad…Dad, uh, he passed away a few months ago.”

He pressed his eyes closed and forced back the burn of tears. His father’s death was still so raw, the pain of it unexpected although him passing at seventy-four wasn’t. Jared senior took too many risks especially when it came to his health. He constantly indulged and did so with a smile, singing the cliche mantra, ‘you only live once.’

Still, the burn of his passing came when his final will and testament was read. Jared junior, thirty-four, successful in his own right, and heir to his father’s company was not an only child. More shockingly, his father had amended his will.

And so he sat, in the living room of a foster-mother who’d taken in Lou, his unclaimed little sister. He’d been told she was only six, her mother forty. She had been out of the picture since Lou was two.

That made things easier Jared supposed. There was no one to fight him for custody, no one to claim the child in hopes of getting their hands on her trust fund, preventing Jared from taking hold of his own.

If he wanted that, he had to take responsibility where his father had failed. It was a cruel way for his father to say goodbye. Dad played, he played hard, but he never played fair.

Jared choked again, coughed once more. Lou’s dark brow slowly rose. She clearly wasn’t impressed. She was definitely their father’s daughter. She hadn’t known Jared for more than fifteen minutes and already she had judged him as inept. At least he wasn’t after what was hers.

No, he only wanted what was his and in order to get that he had to do what their dad had failed to do and that was to raise her as the Carter she was.

“I’m your brother,” he managed to push out. Lou looked skeptical.

“You’re too old to be my brother.” She finally said after three long minutes that felt more like hours as she took stock of him once again.

“Yeah, well, maybe somebody should have told Dad that,” he thought he said it in a low whisper. Lou’s response proved otherwise.

“I thought you said he died.”

Jared only smiled before standing. If he sat any longer he was going to bolt. Staring down at her gave him more confidence…he prayed he looked confident. “We’ll be alright,” he said. “We’ll make things work without him though.”

Finally, a show of emotion played on Lou’s face. The expression wasn’t promising. She suddenly looked horrified.

“You’re adopting me,” her face was pale.

Jared glanced out the window and then back again. “That’s the plan. We’ll do alright. We-we’re family. We will make this work.” He offered her his hand.

Lou glanced at it and then scooted off the sofa, pulling her dog down from with her, avoiding Jared’s eyes altogether. “If you say so. You don’t look like you know very much about little girls, or dogs.” She walked into the back of the house.

Jared followed her, hating that she was right, but praying that they would somehow be proved wrong. Too much depended on it.

THE END…MAYBE

*These are my results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt July 24th, 2017. 

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: July 24th 2017 #Monday’sMuse #CreativeWriting #Fiction

OPENING LINE (S): “Truth was, he didn’t want to parent, let alone know how to parent. But staring at her solemn face, eyes ready for seemingly common rejection, he didn’t feel as if he had a choice.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

No Time for Complaint: A Short Story #AmWriting #SciFi #Fiction

He stared down at his phone, relishing the reminder he had saved as his home-screen. Without it he would fall to shreds, he would never be able to stomach what he had to do.

“Stop complaining. Stop complaining,” he mumbled the words under his breath, wiping the sweat from his palms down the side of his jeans. He always got nervous on these assignments. He wasn’t cut out for this line of work.

“What’s that, sir?” The driver asked, his water gaze-liquid from his senior age-glanced back at him through the rear view mirror.

Harvey smiled, forcing the heavy corners of his mouth to stay upward. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

The driver nodded and returned his gaze to the road. “It will get worse when you get older, the talking to yourself. You tend to forget a whole lot more when you get to my age.” The man chuckled.

Harvey’s stomached roiled. “How old are you exactly?” He couldn’t resist the urge to ask. He envied people like him, those properly balanced upon the threads of time.

“Seventy-eight this December,” he smiled through the mirror again. “Me and the missus have been going strong for fifty-eight of those years.”

“Oh,” Harvey’s head was beginning to pound. He shouldn’t have asked.

“Yes indeed! Me and Gladys have ourselves five strapping sons, thirteen grand kids, and three great-grands.” More laughter. “There are blessings to old age.”

“I would agree,” Harvey sounded more bitter than he’d intended. At this rate, he’d never know what it was like to be old, really, old…properly dead. As far as his accounting, out side of his thirty-one apparent years, he was more accurately two-hundred and forty-six.

His phone buzzed in his hands. A text message, the same as his home-screen came across his phone. “Stop complaining…Do your job…You are on borrowed time. Mr. Lemon doesn’t abide panic-attacks.” Harvey’s fingers cramped they curled in so tightly. He couldn’t help but panic!

He was going to panic. He always did when he was done ruining someone else’s life.

The car stopped and as if he was breaking through the surface of water moments after the threat of drowning, Harvey pushed open the door and forced air into his lungs.

Three deep breaths, and he was in the necessary fog that he needed to not complain, not panic, not make a mistake as he tore one more poor soul from the threads of time, sentencing them to a fate similar to his own.

At least Mr. Lemon would be pleased.

THE…NOT SO END

*These are my results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt July 17th, 2017. If you find yourself confused, I apologize. This story is another thread woven into the world of  Mr. Lemon, Madelyn Haze, A Necessary Call, and so many others. If you stay tuned and follow my Author Site, you will get to find out a little more about Mr. Lemon and this world of his through my Debut Novel NEXUS GATE 4037: THE ANIMAL, Book 1 of THE MINISTRY OF TIME SAGA, Coming this FALL 2017/WINTER 2018! Stay connected and stay tuned!!!

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Worth the Sunshine: Micro Fiction #Fiction #AmWriting #Story

“You’re never going to find it!” She yelled at his back. The melodic giggle of her teasing voice made him continue his search. 

The car keys, what sane man would give his three-year-old the car keys? “One who is trying to convince his little girl that she is a big girl,” he shook his head at his own folly, wading through the cheery blooms of sunflowers whose faces seemed to follow him like they did the sun.

Sure, there were other ways to help her feel like a big girl. He could have been a bit less adventurous and simply taken the training wheels off her tiny bike. That would have given her confidence. “Along with several scrapes and bruises, and probably a broken limb.” He whispered to himself still continuing his search.

All of this trouble was just to convince her to sleep in her own room. He laughed at himself and stared back at the picture of his wife, their little girl grinning widely in his arms.

“Don’t give up, Daddy!”

Stopping in his place, fisted hands on his hips in mock anger he said, “But I thought you said I would never find them?”

She giggled again and buried her cherub face in her mother’s hair before her large brown eyes darted over to the public trash can. It was her usual slip when she played her practical jokes.

His heart sank, but at least his hope rose. Heaving a resigned breath he made his way to the trash can, shaking his head at his wife as she insisted they call for a tow.

The moment he touched the can his little girl shouted with sunny joy, clapping her sticky hands as she hailed him her hero.

All he could do was laugh, his pride rising at her loving praise of him. Parenting was messy business but it was certainly worth the sunshine, especially when it meant he got to be the hero.

THE END

*Honest answer…I forgot to do the prompt up until a few moments ago BUT I did enjoy my imagination giving birth to a light-hearted story. I hope you enjoyed the read. For the original prompt and instructions, see Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt July 10th 2017.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: July 10th 2017 #Monday’sMuse #AmWriting #CreativeWriting

OPENING LINE (S): “You’re never going to find it!” She yelled at his back. The melodic giggle of her teasing voice made him continue his search.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!