All posts tagged: Fiction

Simply Beautiful: Micro-Fiction by Candice Coates

It was a simple room, done up in a simple state and yet it was nothing short of simply beautiful. The wood floors were well worn and just as well loved. The darkness of the grain showed signs of wear but also echoed with the song of yesteryear that tickled her ears and made her heart dance with each click of her low heeled shoes. This was a blessing. She had prayed for a place of her own, no matter how grand or small and God had answered her. Her prayer, much like King David’s, “Not too much Lord, lest I forget You. And not too little that my hands itch to steal.” Those were her words and He had answered ever plea of her heart. “Thank You,” she whispered with a sigh as the lacey sheer drapes blew into the room on the gentle spring breeze as if the hand of God was hidden within their folds welcoming her to her new abode. “I’m glad you are pleased,” the older woman, Ms. Mcnaughten, answered …

He Bought the Farm by Candice Coates

He wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t the type to do so, but he was the kind to slip away to think. He needed to think. Milo, his four-legged shadow followed him, nestling close by, gazing back at the house as if he too was weighing his options. Blake scratched behind Milo’s warm fuzzy ears earning himself a grateful dog-grin. “What do you think, buddy? What should we do?” As usual, Milo had no answer. He only licked his chops, gave a contend yawn, before bedding down deeper into the grass. Blake smiled. Maybe that was Milo’s answer. He was happy right where he was. Truth be told, so was Blake. They’d, Blake his wife Paisley and Milo, had happily moved out to the quiet country nearly five years ago. Happy may have been an overstatement. They not so simply needed a change of pace, a change in their reality. Past decisions had caught up with Blake leaving an unrelenting stain on Paisley’s career. Her employers had said as much, she was guilty by association. She needed to distance …

Like a Sapling through Soil: Flash Fiction & Musing

You’ve gone quiet,” their words weren’t condemning, still, it drew her attention with enough force to make her spine go rigid. Forcing her nerves into a sense of calm, she shook her head. “I haven’t really gone quiet.” “No?” “No. I’ve been in the dark, much like a seed.” Without looking at them she could almost feel their interest peek and a smile bloom with interest. “Explain if you can. I like seeds, so much potential there.” This made her smile. “Like a seed I’ve been in the dark. I have a lot of things pressing on me from every side, but the pressure is only promoting change. I have much to say. The words are on the tip of my tongue but I need to allow the right moment to arrive.” “Like a sapling through the soil,” “Precisely! Like a sapling through the soil. Seeds planted in Fall burst forth in the Spring.” “Spring is right around the corner you know?” Another smile. “Yes, it is. I can feel it in my bones.” THE …

A Golden Confession: A Short Story by Candice Coates

He sat his cup down and pressed his lips together in a hard line. She didn’t know if his expression was due to the bitterness of the brew or what she’d just said. “I’m sorry!” she spat out. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” she tried to press the burn of embarrassment from her cheeks with her trembling hands that had grown surprisingly cold despite the heat of the cup she’d been gripping as if it were a lifeline. She’d clearly not gripped tight enough. She felt as if she were on the verge of death, dying of utter humiliation. Worse, it was her own doing. Why had she never learned to keep her mouth shut? At least she had already put in her resignation. Hazel eyes, that normally shown with flecks of gold, green, and brown simmered like deep emeralds. He stared at her, seeming to not blink, his lips slowly drawing from stiffness to softness, but his eyes continued to blaze. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gold,” she apologized again. “You see? This is why … …

Mad Mona, Monarch of Madonia’s Christmas Surprise By Rachael Ritchey

I know better than to answer my phone after nine at night, and on Christmas Eve to boot. I really don’t know what came over me … except as I think on it, I doubt my not answering would have stopped Her Majesty from knocking my door down. It’s not as though anyone else would follow her on one of her hair-brained schemes. Learning to skateboard and royal spaghetti-eating contests in neighboring Pastarea aside, she’s not always a loon, but Queen Mona isn’t lovingly referred to as Mad Mona, Her Majesty of Madonia for nothing. At least I’m not wearing a ridiculous red-checked tablecloth as a cape this time. Still …. “Doyle!” Her Majesty waves me over with a wild sweep of her plump arm, the roundness of the limb enhanced by the down-filled coat I insisted she wear on this winter excursion that is quite against my better judgment. “Doyle! Stop lolly-gagging, you overzealous buffoon.” “Of course, Your Majesty.” I approach her and take the hand she extends to me. Between myself and the …

What They Say: Fiction by Candice Coates

“The only time I want to see a whole lot of red inky letters on paper is when Jesus is talking in my Bible, not when I have to hand you back your manuscript!” Mr. Hopeheld drummed his fingers on his desk, the frustration in his eyes melting into compassion. “Don’t look so chewed up. You and I both know you can do better than this. This,” He stabbed his pointer finger into the tome upon his shiny desktop. “This was a distracted effort of lifeless words and that just isn’t who you are.” The tempered rebuke from Lloyd’s publisher a week ago had nearly given him an ulcer. The sad thing was Mr. Hopeheld was right in all he said. The only problem was that him being right had not helped Lloyd one iota. He’d only told him what he’d already known. Lloyd didn’t believe in writer’s block. The truth was he always had something to say, always had some character whispering in his ears, flashing pictures of their questionable misadventures before his eyes. But …

Handful of Hope: A Short Story & Encouragement

She wanted to see if they could float so with faith she tossed them across the sackcloth that would be the sky and watched as her handful of hope like diamonds suspended themselves and twinkled as stars. She wasn’t the King Creator, nor His Glorious Son, but she was born of His Spirit, and thusly imbued with the authority and call to create. She was learning how to do so with a voice and song uniquely her own, a song she longed to sing to please only His ears. So she tossed up another handful of hope and watched it twinkle and grow in light until the inky darkness bled away yielding to the brilliance of life. The cold uncertainty that had once made her limbs stiff with immobility began to retreat as her being grew warm with the fire of expectation and joy. Handful after handful of hope and dreams and faith jettisoned from her vibrant fingertips and ate away at the dreadful nothing that sought to blanket her with fear. Laughter erupted from her …

I Promise: A Short Story…A Testimony

“They’ll be safe here, I promise.” His smile bloomed like the radiant sun coming from behind a cloud, and with the same tenderness, it warmed her face and bathed her heart with gladness. She exhaled and hoped that the worry lines would ease from between her brow even if she couldn’t stop the fluttering that tickled beneath her chest. It was hard to leave them there. She had done this before so many years ago, but then… Reading her thoughts, His gaze turned tender, His scarred hand kissed the crown of her head before sliding down to cup her cheek. The feel of it washed through her like a gentle summer wind. He whispered again, “I promise.” And the storm within her ceased. She dared to gaze back upon them, the tiny, fragile seedlings that she had planted with hope within this heavenly soil. It was excellent soil, He had told her, and the words bubbled within her belly as if they were a child come to life in her womb. It made her giggle …

Words…Use Them Wisely

Life is more than words, but words do make up our lives. Have you ever considered how the simplest of words can change a person’s attitude either for the good or bad? Even the words spoken without verbalization have such great power. Consider a person who feels utterly alone, ignored and unseen. Let a stranger smile at them, genuinely smile at them, and that non-verbal interaction, those ‘words’ spelled out without sound, can push away the dark clouds in the recipient’s day. “Life is more than words, but words do make up our lives.”   God created the whole of creation with just His Words (Genesis 1). He spoke and it came to be. Our Lord Jesus is the Word made flesh (John 1). He, too spoke and things happened. He spoke to the fig tree and it died (Mark 11:12-25). He spoke to Lazarus and he was resurrected from the dead, (John 11: 38-44). Being a person of faith I am compelled not to take language and words lightly even though I often stumble, …

Summer Winds: Micro Fiction

The warmth was a blessed reprieve from the chilly winds. The sun shining heat as if its very rays were that which turned the leaves from vibrant green to royal shades of ochre, amber, and red. Fall had definitely arrived but summer was giving its last good-bye, kissing the atmosphere with crystal blue skies and a warm embrace. It was the last dance until the cycle began anew. Fall had taken the stage but danced with the last season to the tune of “Summer Winds.” THE END *Written October 17, 2016