Short Fiction, short story, six sentence story

We Got This

“Great and marvelous are thy works, o Lord of hosts, almighty God…,” were the words flowing from Clarabelle as she sat beside Herbie’s hospital bed, he smiled and held her hand, listening to her angelic voice, much like the clink of the crystals hanging from the doorway, gentle, yet powerful.

“He’s going to be just fine, ma’am, he just had a little stress, but his heart checked out fine,” the doctor patted Herbie on the shoulder, “now, you do need to stop that smoking, it’s only fair of me to mention, as it is slowing you down,” Herbie nodded and looked over at Clarabelle and winked.

The doctor left the room, Clarabelle looked in her husband’s eyes and held his hand, “you know, honey, it’s important to listen to what the doctor said, I, uh,” tears rolled down her cheeks and Herbie’s eyes watered.

Squeezing his wife’s hand, Herbie spoke, through choked back tears, “Clair, we are going to do this together, I know what I need to do and as hard as it is gonna be, it’s gotta be done,” to which Clarabelle nodded and arose from her seat.

“Many are called for great things, love, and you were called to be with me and while I am not a great thing, I need to tell you, I need you in my life, Herbie, and there’s no two ways about it, I marvel at God’s gift to us, and sure don’t want to take it for granted.”

Often, Herbie thought his wife should start preaching, because her words would stick with him better than any person at the pulpit, reaching for her hand, he gave it a squeeze, “honey, we have this covered, no matter what, and that is that, you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me.”

Sing of His Mighty Love

Come join us at the blog hop for Six Sentence Story

poetry

Love is Love

alphabets cubes letters love
Photo by Shamia Casiano on Pexels.com

Love is Love

If you knew my thoughts
my feelings
and sighs
then why did you do nothing

You saw my tear filled orbs
as you called them
my sighs were met
with your confident grins
and yet you did not speak
those words I longed to hear

As the world is your oyster
it is also mine
shedding tears over loss
which cannot be validated
is such a waste

Instead I will use those orb filled tears
to water the garden
to then clearly see the roses
and clip the carnations
making a bouquet of the truth
that love needs not so much words
but the feelings to back up the soul

This poem was in response to my Daily Prompt

If you share your poem or link in the comments then we can see what you did!

Short Fiction, short story

Routines of Love

macro photography of eyelashes
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

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 Pexels.com

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 Pexels.com

…..
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

Fishing for Answers

Alora Grittiths

Photo by Alora Griffiths on Unsplash

Shaking the wrinkles from the old, worn coat, he placed his arms into the sleeves, one by one and proceeded to gather up his fishing gear and head to the river.

Thinking time was what he needed, and that old coat was a necessary part of his life, as he felt the comfort, the familiarity and what he swore was the scent of his daddy’s old pipe tobacco.

Standing at the shore, doing more thinking than fishing, he snagged a few but no real keepers, until finally, right after spotting the most vivid red cardinal, he hooked the biggest fish he had seen in a long time,  maybe even when his daddy was with him many years ago.

“Yes, I understand now, daddy, and I will do just that tonight, see you the next time.”

With a determined gait, he double stepped it back to his place and cleaned up, knowing he needed to have a spit shiny image in order to accomplish his goal.

With her bright red curls shadowing her sparkling blue-green eyes, she smiled the most beautiful, wide smile, all before he took her hand and said, “it’s time for me to talk to your daddy, but first I want to make sure it’s okay with you,” and he knelt to the ground.

 

This is my contribution to the Six Sentence Story for this week where Denise provides us a prompt word each each. This weeks word was “coat.”

Would you like to join and also see what other stories are available to enjoy? Just go to this LINK