poetry, Short Fiction, short story


Photo by Luis Graterol on Unsplash

Chalia’s arms itched relentlessly, as she stood in the long, slow moving line, at least six feet apart from the man in front of her, watching his sweat drenched shirt grow wetter and wetter, Chalia sighed, wondering if her own sweat glands were causing a stench for others in the line.

Reaching back to scratch her upper back, Chalia gracefully turned her nose to check herself for any possible unwanted odor, all she could smell was roses and vanilla, the scent she applied after her cool morning shower, resting in assurance that she passed the test, she relaxed and crossed her arms, shifting her feet and waiting.

It won’t be much longer, she thought as she edged her way closer to the door, I will soon be in the arms of the one I love and we will be together forevermore, and with these thoughts a slight smile graced her face and her eyes moistened with tears of joy.

“What’s that you have in your hand?” Looking down, she wondered what the stranger behind her was referring to when, she realized that it was the mask she held onto for  a brief, cooling moment before putting it back on; “That’s supposed to stay on your face, missy,” chided the stranger.

Shifting her feet in the line and approaching the door, Chalia had a thought of saying something back to the stranger, when she realized that it may be best to leave well enough alone, before meeting her beloved at the hospital to take him home, nothing would get in the way of her elation.

Taking no chances

she walked carefully

following the rules

letting her have time

to cherish the moments

for who knew how long

letting elation become

the most important part

of her life forevermore


This is in response to the Living Poetry prompt and the Six Sentence Story prompt.

Short Fiction, short story


Photo by Negative Space on Pexels.com

Joan wrote in her journal every morning, first thing; studying her words, she became inspired to start her day.

Her therapist suggested she start this practice, that it would help her gain awareness about her life’s goals, figuring out a way to solve problems, one day at a time.

Pausing for a bit, after entering her thoughts this morning, Joan pondered was what next step would be.

Gathering her jacket and calling Mitchell, her mutt, off they went for a walk about the woods; how she loved watching him run once they reached the woods.

Taking in the calm lawns of houses on the way to the woods, then met by the woodsy scents of the forest, she wrapped her heart in hopes for a better day.

Joan could not say for certain, but it may have been a mixture of the journal, her mutt, and the walk where she made her best decisions for each day, but she was grateful.


Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com

Six Sentence Story Link This weeks Prompt word: Therapy

non-fiction, short story

Right or Wrong – Wanda Jackson

“Right or Wrong” is a country music song written and performed by Wanda Jackson and recorded by other artists, including Ronnie Dove. When I listen to the song, I wonder what the right or wrong conflict was, but do not find an explanation anywhere.
A further delve into Wikipedia tells me about Miss Jackson and I came across an interview. It is worth a listen. It is lovely to hear her voice as she tells her story.

Living histories were done by the USS North Carolina BB55 and I have our father’s history recorded in audio format. This interview motivates me to get his words posted online and when I do, I will post it right here on my blog.

This is Wanda Jackson’s book. You can click on the picture to see more.

Here is a lovely interview with Wanda Jackson.

Want to participate in Six Sentence Story? Here is the LINK

Short Fiction, short story

Sand Itches

drone footage of a beach
Photo by Herman. io on Pexels.com

“From Here to Eternity,” sighed Patsy, “that’s a classic love scene on the beach.”

“I reckon so,” replied Pete, “but don’t get any ideas.”

Frowning, Patsy scrubbed the endless sink of dishes, pondering why Pete had burst her bubble. She adored her Pete but wondered why he couldn’t be more romantic.

Coming up behind his bride, Pete wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, “Of course it’s because I love you so much. After all, you know how if you lay on the beach where the tide rolls in you’re bound to get sand in your saddle and, woo wee, that’s some itchin’!”

Check out Six Sentence Story and join the fun! Girlie on the Edge