Short Fiction, short story

Routines of Love

macro photography of eyelashes
Photo by Johannes Plenio on

Belinda looked out the window, her red strands stringing her eyes, still crusted with sandman’s presents; This was her routine each and every day, gazing to the lands and wishing for her dreams to come true; Closing her eyes, stating her wishes into prayers, she then bounced up onto her feet and bounced into the nursery, letting her little brother know her presence.

Smiling, squirming, hiccupping from his milk filled belly, Cleveland wiggled his chubby legs in delight from seeing his sister, clearly loving the routine of being greeted by her cheerfulness; Grasping him carefully, Belinda pulled him up and into her arms, hugging him while singing to him her favorite made up song, written especially for him.

“Baby Cleveland, cheery boy, you are my most favorite joy, how I wish to help you grow, always and ever more to know; How I love you, yes I do, and I always will, it’s true; One day when you are grown up, you’ll still be my buttercup, never will you leave my heart, you have been there from the start.”

stack of love wooden blocks
Photo by Ylanite Koppens on

Giggling and pulling her long tresses, Cleveland clearly adored his big sister, enchanted by her blue-green eyes, he poked at them with his chubby fingers, before reaching for his own as if comparing them with his own rich blue orbs; Carrot tops matching, these two were like two peas in a pod, so to speak, but there was one thing for sure, they were also very different; This was one thing that Belinda would be sure about: personalities.

Just down the road, a few houses down, Barton was also up for the day, doing his routine of chores before going to school, knowing his homework was likely suffering, he had routine responsibilities which took him away from book learning; Sure to make up for his father’s own duties, Barton needed to see to it that his mother did not suffer any more than she already seemed to, as her sighs of sadness prevailed; Taking a moment to take his mother some fresh tea, Barton took her hands in his, gazed into her brown eyes, moist from longing, and told her how beautiful she was and how it was going to be another good day, all before Barton gathered up his books and lunch, putting soles to the dirt road, hoping to catch Belinda on the way to school.

Waving goodbye to her mother, Belinda bounced out the door, books and lunch in hand and looking about, hoping to see Barton as he always made her smile; Sure as the sun shone, there he was picking up his step when he eyed her, almost running to her side; “Good morning Belinda,” Barton breathlessly greeted her, “I hope you don’t mind if I carry your books,” And with this, Belinda smiled at Barton, handed him her books and smiled, nudging along with their hands waiting to be held.

photo of pathway surrounded by trees
Photo by Vitaly Vlasov on

This is my Six Sentence Story for this week in response to Denise’s prompt word: Routine

Perhaps you would like to publish a story to this prompt. You can go to Girlie on the Edge and check out the rules of the blog hop. It’s a lot of fun!

Short Fiction, short story

Birth Day

grayscale photo of baby feet with father and mother hands in heart signs
Photo by Andreas Wohlfahrt on

Belinda’s red tresses were gracefully swept back with a slice of the blue gingham Barton gave her for their anniversary, knowing her love of blue and how beautiful it accented her copper crown.

Betty Lou carried her tools to the duplex where Barton and Belinda made their home, Clement sniffed at the bag and licked Betty on her calf, Clement loved Betty almost as much as the salt she emitted.

Barton was working the mines, trusting that Betty Lou would be there for his bride when the time came for their first born to enter the world, how much he wanted to be there, but knew that he needed to keep making a living to provide for his family.

Bellowing was not Belinda’s way, but the beauty of childbirth brought with it truer than true pains and this was no exception as the baby was ready to be born.

Bathing the birth mother with the gentlest strokes, Betty Lou prepared for the great event, watching and waiting for the grand entrance of the new soul into the world.

Bawling from the first bit of air to his lungs, the little bitty boy announced his birthday to all who could hear, surely in the next door range, at least; a precious baby boy was born into the world, the world of coal miners, loving family, and his first best buddy, Clement, coming as close as he could to make sure his new prince would be safe.


This is the Six Sentence Story in response to the weekly prompt with you can find here: Girlie on the Edge’s Link

Thank you to Denise for her devotion to providing the weekly prompt. This week’s word was “Slice.”

Short Fiction

Home is Where the Heart is Planted

close up of tea light candle against black background
Photo by George Becker on

Planting a kiss on her moistly, beaded forehead, he sleepily, quietly stole to the door, ever so careful not to wake his bride.

Love has no words for the feelings for his wife and her feelings for him, as expressive as the day is long without the need to speak as much as show.
As she stirred in the morning light, she realized she had fallen so deeply and he had already gone to his early shift, always thinking of her and her need for rest.

Nestling back in the bed and reaching for his pillow, she breathed in his aroma of the sweet lavender she always put in his bath. Reaching for her swollen belly, she held her hand over her navel and whispered, “Sweet baby, soon you will know this man, the one who took root in my soul, the one who you will call daddy, for your love will be that strong, I just know as I feel it growing each day when you hear his voice.”

Taking her soft robe and wrapping the ties, she takes to the cold floor, welcome to her warmth, and does the thing she does each day, focusing on taking care of her home for the three souls who take up residence, well four, really because of Clement the hound, they are all planted, invested in the home’s hearth.


There you have it! This is my (sorry I’m late) 6 Sentence Story for the week.

I did an acrostic this time using the word “Plant” from the prompt.

If you would like to participate as well as read other’s contributions, just go to the

Six Sentence Story Link


Baby Bubbles


Baby Bubbles

blowing bubbles free
releasing gases without
worries or concerns
such is the life of babies
are they really clueless, though?

carefree and happy
infectious smiles, freely shared
do they really know?
I’d like to think it’s truly
they know exactly what’s up

never doubt the meaning
of life so freely offered
it’s really a plan
grab people’s hearts with bubbly
giggles and boggles the mind

perhaps lessons learned
are about being freely
able to express
just like a drooling infant
brings forth the simple joys