"Forbidden" #FridayFlash, #FridayFictioneers, #100words

Every Thursday, I look forward to seeing what photo Madison Woods will post on her blog as our prompt for Flash Fiction Friday. And every Friday, I look forward to reading the variety of stories the Friday Fictioneers have created. Visit Madison's blog and have a peek!

Here's my story for the week, based on Madison's photo above:

Forbidden

He departed in the Spring, leaving only a feather behind.

“Pick it up and think of me,” he said. “I will return to take you to my world.”

But how can I leave my world for his? And he surely cannot stay on this earth with me. Still, I do not doubt our love as I come to this creek each morning; stare at his feather; long to pick it up; imagine his wings enfolding me.

In the summer, the creek, like my tears, will  dry, and the wind will carry away what is left of him. My dark angel.

First Love

This morning, a Facebook friend asked the question, "If you could choose your ring tone, what song would it be?" Funny, my first thought was the song, "I Could Have Danced All Night."

I found it curious that this song came to mind, and I'll admit, I was a little embarrassed at my "old-fashioned," even corny, choice. Why that song, of the thousands and thousands I might have chosen?

The film version of My Fair Lady came out in 1964. I was only six years old, and I suppose when I first watched, it was no more than an adult version of a fairy tale, Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast, perhaps. But as I watched it through the years, particularly in my young teenage years, it came to define what it would be like to be fall in love, to feel a happiness so full, one must dance.

I suppose it's a good thing, old-fashioned or not, that even today, it's the first song that comes to mind when defining myself by a ring tone.

What song would you pick?

Word of the Day - "Tchotchke"

Today's Dictionary.com word is tchotchke: 

\CHOCH-kuh\, noun:

1) A trinket; a knickknack

Tchotchke. I've never heard the word before, but it brought all kinds of memories of favorite trinkets to mind. My earliest recollection is of a charm bracelet I had as a child. It had silver charms from places I had visited-- Disneyland, the San Francisco Aquarium, the Grand Canyon--as well as places around the world that my father had visited as a pilot. Sadly, that charm bracelet was lost in one of many moves we made as a family while my father was in the Air Force.

One of my very favorite knickknacks was a simple little present my sister, Tami, gave me when for my 16th birthday. She took a little pebble and wrapped it in a piece of toilet paper, and called it "Rock Hudson." It still remember how impressed I was at her cleverness, and I still have that little knickknack today.

When my children were young, my shelves were full of favorite trinkets--like this turtle dish that Adam made in second grade:

Or this flower ornament that Andrea made when she was in her hungry years in college:

One of my favorites is the first thing Stephen ever gave to me:

It's funny, the things we treasure. For me, it's usually something associated with a memory. A piece of jewelry, a framed photo, or something as simple as a sentimental note written on the back of a business card. Whether I still have these tchotchkes or not, I will always have the memories associated with them.

Do you have a favorite tchotchke?

How Far Is Too Far?

Is there such a thing as thinking TOO far outside of the box?

At the August Ozarks Writers League meeting, Deborah LeBlanc spoke about "Thinking Outside of The Box." She spoke of the necessity for writers to think of new ways to market themselves and their stories. Being one to stay inside the box--my comfort zone--I listened with hesitant interest to her philosophy: if hundreds of thousands of writers all stay within the same box, the chances of ever getting published, noticed, known, appreciated--whatever form of recognition desired--are close to nil.

Even with my apprehension to venture outside of my safe zone, Ms. LeBlanc planted a seed, and my mind has been abuzz with ideas. After all, part of what makes a comfort zone comfortable is the fact that it's predictable. Well, the "box" of a writer's world is far from predictable, so why stay inside it?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right? So, last night, I ventured a pretty good distance outside of the box. Did I stray too far? Only time will tell.

All I know is, I won't have to ask myself, "What if?"

"That Time of Day" #FridayFlash, #FridayFictioneers, #100words

Once again, Madison Woods has posted a beautiful photograph as a prompt for Flash Fiction Friday. I feel a little strange writing a dark, sad flash fiction for such a warm and bright photo. But I am in that kind of place with my work-in-progress, Broken Dreams.

I often feel sad for those times in our history and even today, when people are judged, bullied, even killed because of skin color, religious belief, sexual orientation. When we will know their hearts?

That Time of Day

Sunset used to be my favorite time of day, when I waited for my boy to run to me, to sit in my branches and listen to me whisper as we watched the sun go down together.

Now, I dread sundown, when I hear voices gathered beneath my branches, ugly words spewing from their mouths. A man cries as a noose is wrapped around his neck.  I rattle my leaves in protest. But they do not hear my whispers.

I will shed my leaves like tears. I do not want to be the hanging tree.