Saturday, March 4, 2017

The Jordan River


The Jordan River
By Deborah J Lindsey

"Why did you bring us to the river?!"

“It’s a river isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but this is the Jordan River.   We only come here for baptisms and such.”

“That’s correct enough, Brother Bethel.”

“But this here is “horror-suspense” writing week.  You just can’t jump in with gospels and church doings.”

“Brother Bethel, Good People of Batesville, be it known this day, I am a-jumping in- and I am a-jumping in with both feet.”

“Go on Preacher, jump in!  I’d love to see ya soppin’ wet!”

“Shall we sing?
 Yes, we’ll gather at the river-the beautiful-beautiful-riv-ev-er -gather on…”

“Hey, stop that!  This ain’t no camp meetin’.”

“Brother Mac, I’m surprised.  I thought you loved singing with that healthy baritone of yours.  We all love it, don’t we, folks?”

“Now, Preacher, you’re confusing this whole business.  We can’t be singing in a writing promp, it’s impossible.”

“well, we’re all here and there’s the river.  That is the promp, it not?  What’s your problem, Brother?”

“The prompt was supposed to be “Horror and Suspense” themed using the line, "Why did you bring us to the river? "

“Well, Old HenryThacker lost two mules and a hitch last summer when the Jordan flooded-that was pure horror!  Watching them mules strangle to death-took more than twenty minutes, so I heared.  Why, even Leon Todd started making book on ‘em. We was all in real suspense-not knowing which one would go down first.”

“Brothers! 
Sister!
(Thank you, Sister for joining us.)

Let us consider this Jordan River.  It is the river of Elijah.  It is the river of Elisha. Why, “crossing Jordan” symbolizes crossing out of this life into the “Promised Land”. This Jordan means, “death.”

“Well, it sure was death for them mules!”

“C’mon Folks, let’s get out of here before the skeeters start
To swarm.”


“Yeah, let’s go.  The next prompt is “Protest and Mind Control” themed using the line, “Why did you bring us to this Protest?”

C Copyright March, 2017 By Deborah J Lindsey

3/3/17 - Writing prompt (Remember - it's horror/suspense week) Dialogue only prompt:
"Why did you bring us to the river?!"










Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Small Talk

Cinderella and Snow White glared at each other. (First line writing prompt)

Small Talk

By Deborah J Lindsey

Cinderella and Snow White glared at each other.
Cinderella took a dainty sip of tea being sure to point her pinky.  She flounced her flounces and smiled sweetly at her guest.

Snow White was such a uppityy-up!  I don’t know why I invited her to tea.  But Cinderella knew why-she wanted to see if Snow White had aged after her long sleep. Cindy could find no trace and she had looked very carefully.  Snow looked just as pert and proper as she had when they were children together in the same story book.

Snow was sizing up her rival too and she wondered if Cindy had baked these raspberry scones herself, No, she finally decided.  She had heard the mice stayed on even after her marriage. She’d heard too that she and the Prince dinned on pumpkin a lot but that was probably just a wild rumor.

“You know Snow, I got these ruby slippers off a good fairy and they are very clickable.”  Cindy stood and clicked the heels together to illustrate her point.  Snow noticed the ruby was wearing right off the slip.  Apparently, Cindy was too fond of demonstrating them and had clicked too many times.

Snow sneered at Cin.  “Well, my slippers are made of fine bear skin and have served me well for more than a thousand years.”

“Well, I’m surprised you even wear foot attire living out in the wilds as you do and your living arrangements leave much to be desired.”

“who has questioned my past?  I’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”

C. grinned an evil grin.  “And how is that fruit company you and your Prince invested in?  Does it prosper?  Apples. Wasn’t it?”

Snow stood up indignantly and prepared to take her leave.

“Thanks for tea C.  Oh, you do recall my story is fifteen pages longer than yours!”

“Well, that’s only because you slept so long.”
C flashed a wicked smile.

“At least my Prince came to find me.  I didn’t have to trap him with see-through slippers.  Glass, weren’t they? Easily broken as I recall.  Oh, you might want to tell your mice cooks, the scones need more fruit.”

**I refuse to apologize for the ruby slippers.  Writers prerogative. J


The Storm Baby

2/13
Description Prompt 
Describe weather you've never seen before. You can make up a new meteorological disaster if you prefer. For example, I've never seen a tsunami or it could rain cats and dogs.


The Storm Baby


By Deborah J Lindsey


“Cassie! Cassie!”  Mama hollered from the back door. Cassie heard Mama perfectly well and she sounded mad. Cassie kept her seat on “Mermaid’s Rock” a few minutes more. Then she closed her book, stood up and looked around.  Something was different. The sun had completely disappeared and now dark clouds were building up in the west. The birds hushed and all of nature was stilled.  The sudden quiet was loud and ominous in Cassie’s ears.

Mama’s voice came again but this time it wasn’t one of anger but frustration and fear. The thunder boomed as Cassie scrambled up the hill from the creek.  

“Hurry Girl, it’s coming up a storm.  Fetch your brothers and I’ll get Grandma.” 

Cassie knew the drill.  She took the hands of the four-year-old twins and headed out the door. Peter, as usual came along without a fuss but Paul, as was his usual, giggled and tugged at the hand that held him.

“Come on Paul! You want to get blowed clean off this place?” Cassie yelled into the little boy’s ear as she attempted to draw him closer to her.

One glance about him was all it took for Paul. his antics ceased and he sent his small feet flying up the path that led to the root cellar. Storms were taken seriously even by the very young in Orion, Oklahoma- “Tornado Alley” some called it.

Cassie struggled hard against the wind that held the heavy wooden doors shut. At last, she managed to get them open and was down the rail ladder in an instant. The twins tumbled in after her and she led them to a place in the back.  She lit a kerosene lamp took down a quilt from the shelf, and tucked it around the little boys Shoulders. 

The root cellar was a lovely place for Cassie.  She spent many hours dreaming and pretending among the fall apples, hanging onions and rows of summer’s harvest neatly packed in jars.

Mama and Grandma were suddenly at the door with their aprons flapping violently in the wind.  Mama helped the frail woman down the stair and guided her to a low stool near the boys. 

“My baby! Oh, my baby. My baby.” 

Grandma began to rock and moan as old memories swept over her.  She had lost a baby during one of these twisters.  The baby had been snatched right out of her arms. His tiny body was found days later and miles away caught in the fork of a tree.  Grandma had never been quite the same since that time and storms as this one, bought it all back to her.

“Where’s the storm baby, Cassie?  Quick, help me look.” Mama shouted over the roar of the wind.
The storm baby was kept in the root cellar for just this type of emergency.  It was the only thing that calmed and comforted Grandma until the storm passed.

“Where’s the storm baby, Cassie?”  Mama asked again frantically searching.

Cassie knew exactly where the storm baby was. 
He was wrapped in his little blue blanket lying in the tall grass by the creek. Cassie had been pretending the story of Moses in the Bull-rush.

© Copyright February, 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey



  …Ella looked happily at the darkening sky.  She pulled on her new red rain boots and twirled her new red and white polka-dot umbrella.  She hoped this storm wouldn’t be a “duck-drowner”.  She loved all creatures and wouldn’t want any ducks hurt…


Sorry about Ella.  She slipped in and refused to leave even after I admired her new rain gear. DJL

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Smokey


The challenge was to write a poem about being in love with a robot.
Mine comes from the 1939 World's Fair (His name wasn't Smokey though , it was Elektro.

Smokey

She saw him at the World’s Fair,
He was so amazingly fine!
He was shiny and new,
And had so much to do,
He was a bot ahead of his time.

She watched him inhale and ex,
Puffing out bellows of smoke.
His lungs became rusted,
And he could not be trusted,
She could never love such a dope.

C Copyright February, 2017 By Deborah J Lindsey


Details

Last line prompt:  Even he couldn't bring them together.



Details

By Deborah J Lindsey

They seemed the perfect couple.  He was the star quarterback and she was head cheerleader.  They were sweethearts all their early school days and now into their Senior year they talked of a future life together.  Everyone assumed they would be married at some point.

Cupid watched them with happy interest.  These were his best work and he often boasted to his fellows about them every chance he got.

“You’ve put no work into them!”  His fellows chided him. “You haven’t picked up your bow in many moons and I wonder where your arrows might be?”  He just laughed and said his matches were always perfect, they didn’t need any work.  He saw no need to arrange and plan and putter about with this and that.  Let others weary and worry with pesky details.  Wasn’t he
“Cupid of the year” ten years in a row?   He lay back on his cloud and closed his eyes for a nap.

He slept for a long time as cupids are known to do.  When he awoke, the sweetest day of the year was fast approaching. His first thoughts were of his “perfect couple”. 

They were not so easy to find and sadly, due to his failed attention to details, the couple was not a couple anymore.  The lovely romance had sputtered and died.  It was the little things-the details.  Those smiles and sweet favors, and loving kindness that are so important had dwindled away and soon vanished entirely.   It was too late. Cupid sighed. Even he couldn't bring them together.


C Copyright February, 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey


A Date With Mark Twain


situation prompt:
You're on a date with your favorite author. What do you do?

A Date with Mark Twain
  By Deborah J Lindsey

 I watched him as he stood at the rail of the steamer and gazed into the night.  The shimmering colors in his white suit coat and silver hair caught the moonbeams and sent them dancing across the waves.

 It was Mark Twain!  I was sure of it. 

I retreated to a deck chair and hastily penned a note.  “I’m from Calaveras County and I have a frog in my handbag. I could show him to you at our next stop.”  I drew a heart around my words for effect.  I was all about effect and besides,  it was Valentine’s Day.

I arose and glided over to him.  He stood as before, lost in thought and lost in the night.  I slipped the paper into his vest pocket.  He reached in and removed the note.  He read it and turned to me.  He only nodded and went back to his thoughts.

All passengers were to embark the next morning as we had reached our destination. I registered at the only hotel in town.  After much nervous speculation on what best to wear, at last I came down to the lobby to wait for him.  I primped my hair in the hotel mirror and smoothed invisible wrinkles from my skirt for the hundredth time.  I had dressed with special care, thinking he would most certainly ask me to dine or perhaps even rent a carriage and take in the sights.

Finally, he came down the stairs taking wo at a time.  He wore a worn and frayed riding jacket.  His pants tucked were tucked into a pair of cracked and dusty boots.  He grinned at me and seemed to immensely enjoy the flabbergasted look that must have dominated my face.

When he reached my side, he bowed low and kissed my carefully gloved hand.  He then guided me out through the hotel’s double doors and whispered into my ear.

“Let’s go do some frog jumpin’ Darlin’!”

C Copyright February, 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey







Two for Tea



Cinderella and Snow White glared at each other. (First line prompt)

Two for Tea

By Deborah J lindsey

Cinderella took a dainty sip of tea being sure to point her pinky.  She flounced her flounces and smiled sweetly at her guest.

Snow White was such a uppy-up!  I don’t know why I invited her to tea.  But Cinderlla knew-she wanted to see if Snow White had aged after her long sleep. Cindy could find no trace and she had looked very carefully.  Snow looked just as pert and proper as she had when they were children together living in the same story book.

Snow was sizing up her rival too and she wondered if Cindy had baked these raspberry scones herself, No, she finally decided.  She had heard the mice stayed on even after her marriage. She’d heard too that she and the Prince dinned on pumpkin a lot but that was probably just a wild rumor.

“You know Snow, I got these ruby slippers off a good fairy and they are very clickable.”  Cindy stood and clicked the heels together to illustrate her point.  Snow noticed the ruby was wearing right of the slip.  Apparently, Cindy was too fond of demonstrating them and had clicked too many times.

Snow sneered at Cin.  “Well, my slippers are made of fine bear skin and have served me well for more than a thousand years.”

“Well, I’m surprised you even wear foot attire living out in the wilds as you do and your living arrangements leave much to be desired.”

“who has questioned my past?  I’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”

C. grinned an evil grin.  “And how is that fruit company you and your Price invested in?  Does it prosper?  Apples. Wasn’t it?”

Snow stood up indignantly and prepared to take her leave.

“Thanks for tea C.  Oh, you do recall my story is fifteen pages longer than yours!”

“Well, that’s only because you slept so long.”
C flashed a wicked smile.
Snow smiled.

 “At least my Prince came to find me.  I didn’t have to trap him with see through slippers.  Glass,wern’t they? Easily broken as I recall.  Oh, you might want to tell your mice cooks, the scones needed more fruit.”


C Copyright  February, 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey