Tag: love

short story

Clearly Stricken

Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld
white ceramic mug with soup beside spoon
Photo by Danijela Pantic Conic on Pexels.com

Peacefully taking in the carefully calculated morsels, pondering about the next moment when she would see his beautiful eyes, blue as the tone of her hands, she knew that it was just a matter of time before he would ask her to be his bride.

Ordinarily, she would not have eaten as much as she did, but the anticipation of a life with her love encouraged her interest in healthy eating and this meant that she would eat some morsels of chicken and an undressed salad; gagging on these morsels, she sighed and drank some water.

Usually her meals would consist of chicken broth and ice water, maybe an herb tea if her stomach rumbled, if she could feel this, a rare occurrence these days.

Noon time, the phone rang, and it was him; sitting in anticipation she twirled her beads and smiled, grinning, in fact, anticipating this would be the time he would ask her to meet for a special dinner date.

Disappointed, she learned that he had plans to be out of town for an extended period, then he let her know that it may, in fact, be several weeks before he came to town, then he said one more thing.

Selecting the best of choice meats, she carefully wrapped the precious cut in butcher paper and placed it in the freezer; this will be the one for him when he returns, she whispered to herself; placing her cup of iced water and chicken broth before her she began to sup, knowing she would have yet another difficult night of sleep.

close up of water splashing in glass
Photo by Ecuen Images on Pexels.com

…..
There you have it, this is my Six Sentence Story! Please go check this LINK for more stories which dedicated Denise provides each week. Perhaps you would like to join!

poetry

World Gratitude Day

Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld
silver colored heart lock bridge
Photo by Marcus Wöckel on Pexels.com

World Gratitude Day
perhaps this may be always
one day’s not enough
each day is a grateful day
when looking at life, it’s there

waiting to be found
it’s in the air that we breathe
it’s in touch and sighs
it’s in all that we provide
it’s in all the things we do

thankful actions rule
as if we already know
something good’s coming
to speak of gratitude now
it’s a given thing we’ll count

thinking gratitude
affects pozzie attitudes
knowing it’s for real
helping this world heal starts now
when we recognize the toil

grateful for us all
grateful for human beings
grateful for good deeds
grateful for acts of kindness
grateful to be the kind ones

world gratitude day
as real as it is today
let’s think about it
as an everyday act
and make it a good habit

poetry, Short Fiction, short story

Refuse to Believe Anything But the Truth

Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld
balance beach boulder close up
Photo by Danne on Pexels.com

Relief was not for Beth, watching out the window, seeing nobody to help her.
Everybody had other things to do and, while she understood, her heart would ache.
Family and friends alike wished her well as she cared for her mother without staff.
Undermining comments were a source of disdain, coming from the critical milieu.
Simply ignoring this was not easy, but Beth refused such and stayed in focus.
Everybody came for show at the end of it all, Beth left with her own peace.

…..

I went with a double acrostic this time.

It’s that time again for Six Sentence Story. Thanks to Denise for her devotion to this and for encouraging us to challenge our brains.

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Come back here Thursday through Tuesday, link your post…
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers 🙂

PROMPT WORD: REFUSE

Go to this LINK to check in!

Short Fiction

Blue Blanket

Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld
several yarn balls
Photo by Rijan Hamidovic on Pexels.com

Blue Blanket
Red-rimmed eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, cotton mouthed, she sat on her sofa, in her spot, as she snapped open the plastic container. A familiar fragrance teased her nostrils as she gasped and then allowed the scent to overtake her senses. Staring at the blanket through blurred vision, it was soft country blue colored, with fringed edges. Knowing this blanket was her sister’s favorite, she needed to keep this treasure.

Cozying in to the familiar soft comfort of her spot on the sofa, she gathered her yarn and hook. Excitement tickled her soul as she pondered the joy her sister would feel when she saw and touched her new blanket. While it was not her taste, her sister loved blues and mauves. Selecting the soft toned, country blue was easy. This would be a gift for her sister’s 21st birthday and she wanted to give something to her sister to treasure all of her life. As was her habit, she pondered positive thoughts as she hooked the yarn. Believing that keeping good thoughts would only make for many good things, she was certain that this blanket would bring much comfort and joy.

Holding the well-loved blanket to her face, breathing in the scent, closing her eyes, memories flooded her. Feeling the softness as she grazed the blanket with her fingertips, she came across a raised, rough patch. Looking closely, there was a stain, much in the shade of red, as in nail polish. This would have been from her niece. She loved the blanket and was likely wrapped in it while she painted her nails.

Working each row, creating the design, allowing for both durability and beauty, she counted and watched as the blanket unfolded into a work of art. Her old cat would keep her lap extra warm as he crawled underneath the workings. He was old and not so likely to bat the yarn as he did in his younger years. A bit of him would go along with the blanket, as it would be very difficult to pick out his golden fur.

Even after all these years, there were gold flecks in the blanket. Oh Kitty, she thought, you now can rest with my sister and her other pet children. Tell her to keep a warm spot for me, one day. She stroked the gold and closed her eyes, remembering the comfort he brought to her in all of his days. Dozing to a nappy sleep, she woke to nothing more or less than the changes of life. And peace. Peace in knowing that those before have no more pain and peace in knowing that those left behind can best bring comfort to each other. It’s the circle.