Short Fiction, short story, six sentence story


Photo by Peng Louis on


Dusting, sweeping, window washing—the family readied their home for the presence of grandmother.

Oh, thought Priscilla, it’s going to be fun, I can hardly wait until she gets here. Giggling beside herself,

Priscilla picked out her finest dress and slipped on her sparkly slippers, and she even decorated Fluffy.

“You sure are excited,” Priscilla’s mother exclaimed.

Priscilla gave an impish grin; “I can’t wait to see the presents.”

This was when Priscilla had her first lesson about homonyms.


This is my response to the weekly prompt from Girlie on the Edge.

Perhaps you would like to write something.

Short Fiction, short story, six sentence story, writing


Photo by Paula Nardini on

Shandy set up her room at her Aunt Cherri’s house, placing her framed pictures of her late husband and her son on her dresser. Grazing the edges of the scrolled, antique textured frame surrounding her husband, Shandy sighed and began talking.

“Honey, it’s a new start for me, being here at Cherri’s, and I always thought we would be moving here together, but later in life, yet here I am, at a new house, a new life, but just so you know, it’s not the same without you,” and with that a tear rolled down her cheek, followed by a few more droplets before she stepped away.

Shandy stepped outside and leashed up Candy for a walk, and off they went, the fresh air pleasant to her and to Candy, they both sped out in a trot, before long, Shandy’s head cleared, and her eyes saw new possibilities as the neighborhood was near a small shopping center and that was where she found a diner, a homey looking place, with a “Help Wanted” sign on the window.

Stepping out after getting cleaned up, Shandy walked to the diner, “I see you are needing help, well I have lots of experience, may I please get an application?”

“Have you worked a full-house, lunch crowd, we could use you right now,” and with that, Shandy felt a confirmation that she had found home.


This is my response to the Six Sentence Story challenge word “Home” provided by Denise of Girlie on the Edge. Would you like to submit a story? You can go HERE

Short Fiction, short story, six sentence story, writing

Welcome Home

Photo by Lindsay Wilson on

Welcome Home

Shandy completed the last leg of her drive to Burlington, Iowa with a spark of enthusiasm edged with nerves gnawing at her gut, worried she would be imposing on her aunt, although she was reassured many times that it was okay with her aunt, she was still nervous, so she put it to the universe to make it all right.

Pulling into Aunt Cherri’s alley to her house on South Central Avenue, the familiar charms of her aunt welcome her before even seeing her aunt. The garden was bursting with flowers, tulips were popping in colors of red and yellow. Marigolds edged the walkway to the back porch, where Candy, the prized German Shepherd waited, part guarding her domain, part welcoming old friends, and Shandy met the latter qualifications, which she knew when Candy licked her hand while she gently petted Candy under her chin.

Looking up, Shandy saw her sweet Aunt Cherri and they met with an embrace which said Welcome Home and Shandy smiled, with tears rolling into the crevices of her grin, and as she looked at her aunt, she realized they were two blubbering ladies, happy to see each other, and any doubts Shandy had were dissolved in those tears, hearts wrapping around each other as souls met as never forgotten friends.

“Let me show you your room and the workings of things around here,” Aunt Cherri, always one for organization, wanted to be certain that Shandy felt immediately at home, “I made a place for your clothes and your gear and other stuff, and I want you to know, right here and now, that this is your home, too, no ifs ands or buts about it, end of conversation.”

“Aunt Cherri, have I told you lately how much I love and appreciate you,” Shandy stated, “You are the ray of sunshine I’ve needed in this life and you always have warmed my heart.”

“Aww, Shandy, dear, you are the light in my life, I am just an old woman with too much space and it gets lonely at times, so it will be good to have you here, you know, someone to talk to and care for, not too much, though, I don’t want to crowd you, but I have been looking forward to this,” and with that, Shandy knew she was welcomed home.


This is my installment of the Six Sentence Story for this week. The prompt word was GEAR. Would you like to see more of the stores such talented folks have submitted? Go to this LINK provided by Denise, our dedicated host. Thanks to Denise for keeping us going.

Short Fiction, short story, six sentence story

On Her Way Home

Photo by Frank Cone on

On Her Way Home

Shandy loaded up her beige Opal, the same reliable car she loved so much, calling her “Baby” since the first time she turned the key and the engine softly hummed, a sweet sound to hear. Heading to Iowa, she turned up her radio, playing the sweet sounds of Jim Croce, John Denver, and many other artists with whom she could sing along, a trip back in time, with her sweet “friends” in the airwaves.

After carefully studying her maps, she decided to go through the Missouri route, trying to avoid the long prairie like drive, something which, while it would be quiet, could be enough to make her sleepy and it was not long before she saw the Saint Louis Arch and gave it a salute while driving past the way. From Missouri she would meet the wedge of Illinois, Iowa, and Missouri and cross over to Iowa by way of the toll bridge in Keokuk, Iowa. Right before she came to the bridge, she looked off to the right and saw an eagle soaring, as if it were waving her on to Iowa.

Shandy waved at the eagle, “Goodbye, Illinois, thank you for your service, it was brief, but I will be back to see you soon,” as she knew that her destination was also in the border town of Burlington, Iowa and all she had to do was roll on over the bridge; the road ahead would take her to her aunt’s house and to a new life, one which Shandy was looking forward to starting anew, but she always knew she had the past to pushed her forward, as her beloved, deceased husband was always going to be the driving force for her success, with this, she would not fail, and that is what she believed.

This was my installment for this weeks Six Sentence Story. Perhaps you would like to writer a story for this week. Just go here to Girlie on the Edge’s blog hop and give us your spin on the weekly word of SERVICE

Short Fiction, short story, six sentence story

Angels in Front of Us

Photo by Pixabay on

Angels in Front of Us

Motel Merrion was on the outskirts of the next big city in Kentucky and Shandy was pleased with the homey look of the place, from the very moment she pulled up to the point of checking in, she knew she was in the right place and Belle, who sent her there, was right about it being a decent place to rest up; this became even more evident when the sole proprietor, Merry, strode up to the desk; she had a full head of blonde hair, curled and sprayed to the nth degree, penciled eye brows that appeared raised despite the fine line of her actual brows, coral puffs of rouge, and lipstick which reminded her of strawberries; she has a an unfiltered Camel burning in the ashtray, which she paid no care to, while she focused on Shandy.

“You must be Shandy; thank you for calling from Belle’s place, it helped me get your room ready, and I wanted to be sure you had a room close to the front so you could be close to the office, you are in a safe place, but there’s something to be said for taking that extra step, you know what I mean, yeah, of course you do; well you are all set in room 3, my lucky number, and I hope you find it to be yours, too; there’s coffee and donuts in the morning by six and just leave the key in the drop box when you leave.”

“How much do I owe you,” inquired Shandy.

“Shandy, dear, you don’t owe me a thing, I heard you are starting over and, well, I have been down that road, until I found this place to make a home for others, I was lost, and, well, I promised myself that if there ever was a woman who was in my shoes come in the door, I would treat her like she deserves to be treated, and I won’t have any money from you, I have a little cash stash for these reasons, and tonight is your lucky night.”

Speechless, Shandy tried to speak, but her throat closed up as her eyes welled with the fullness of tears, and when she found her voice, she spoke, broken but clear enough, “Merry, you are a jewel, I am going to accept this, well, because I remember that my husband would say to pay attention to the angels, they are in front of us, and, well, you are one of those angels, and, well, I will be sure to pass your kindness on to the next person I come across with a need.”

Merry handed Shandy the key to her room, Shandy reached out and gave her a hug, walked out to find her room and when she opened the door, she was greeted with a bouquet of fresh roses, clearly from the beautiful rose bushes which lined the front of Merry’s motel, and Shandy knew she found the right place to claim for her overnight home.


And that is my installment of the continuing story of Shandy and Clarabelle. This week, the focus has been on Shandy, but Clarabelle will be back. She’s just not met Shandy, at this point.

You can go see what others have written to the prompt this week of FILTER HERE