MFtS: Spirit City

“The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits.”

Miners Hill is filled with the ghost-spirits of all the people tragically killed by the devastating gas leak from the manufacturing and mining plant in 1937. At that time, the fatal gas leak could not be detected and the result was the loss of 3, 047 precious and innocent lives. Included in the deaths were three hundred thirty-three children under the age of 18. The remainder were mothers waiting for their children to come home from school and father’s working at the plant or in the mine, making a living for their famillies.

Although much too late for the residents of Miners Hill, a distinctive fragrance has been added to this particular gas so it can now be easily detected.

Miners Hill, aka Spirit City, has become a huge tourist attraction in this particular area of Wyoming, stirring up the wrath and anger of the spirits which linger. (150 words)

Photo credit ©Barbara Beacham

 

Barbara Beacham is the kind hostess of the challenge, Monday’s Finish the Story. She provides us with a photo prompt, the first sentence, and approximately 150 words with which we are to use to write our story.

This is my submission for this challenge. If you would like to participate in this fun and addicting challenge, please click on this link: MFtS

 

Sunday Photo Fiction – Lilly Whistletoe

Lillie Whistletoe lived in Mrs. Garner’s garden behind the clemantis vines and in front of the ivy. Her job was to draw the flowers growing in the garden. Mrs. Garner did not know about Lilly or that it was her that designed her lovely garden flowers. Lilly worked happily on her artwork and joyfully sang songs as she worked. Only the bees and hummingbirds could hear Lilly’s beautiful songs.

Lilly, being a garden artist faery, used a teeny tiny drawing compass to draw the circles for the center of the flowers. Every May when the sun burst with it’s warm golden rays and it’s gentle fingers of light lovingly nurtured the garden, Lilly’s designs would bloom with majestic colors to the delight and great joy of the Mrs. Garner (and Lilly).

Little did the giant humans know that their sculpture in the park was really a giant drawing compass, and a tribute to Lilly Whistletoe’s important garden job.

(155 words)

Photo Credit: ©Alistair Forbes

 

This is my story submission for “Sunday Photo Fiction” kindly hosted by Alistair Forbes. He gives us a photo and approximately 200 words with which we are to use to write our story. This challenge is welcome to all that would like to participate. If you would like to know more, please click on the challenge icon below.

 

 

FFfAW: Gazebo Memories

Every day I walk to the park and sit on the bench that allows me to view the gazebo that holds so many fond memories for me.

I remember Billy, my very first boyfriend, kissing me at this gazebo on New Year's Eve that year and I swear I think my toes tingled.

My “husband to be” danced with me on this gazebo so many years ago and I thought we were dancing in heaven. We married six months after that dance.

Then there were all the picnics that my husband, children and I went on as we sat in the gazebo sharing our fried chicken and potato salad. Holding me close, we watched the children play on the park gym and laughed at silly jokes.

One day, my casket will be on this gazebo as my family tells me goodbye. There will be tears and beautiful music, a picnic lunch and family mingling with each other. But I won't be there.

I sigh heavily, and slowly walk back to my hospice bed. (173 words)

Photo credit ©Dawn M. Miller

This is my 173 word submission for the Weekly Challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, hosted by PricelessJoy. We are given a photo and approximately 100-175 words with which to write a story with. It is fun, challenging, and addicting. If you would like to participate, please click on this link: FFfAW.

To read the other participant's stories, click on the blue froggy button above.

MFtS: The Angel Flame

The crew of the Angel Flame received orders to head out by first light the next morning. Captain McDuff knew a secret about this dreaded mission the other crew members did not know. The Angel Flame was to go into the deepest parts of the ocean that no other submarine has ever gone. “It is the new frontier,” his superiors told him. “We need to be the first to conquer it in order to claim the oil and to maintain our status of being the first country.”

That evening after dinner, Captain McDuff cleared his throat and got the attention of his men.

“Tomorrow morning our mission is to submerge into the deepest part of the ocean. In-spite of the danger, we believe our ship is strong enough to endure the pressure. We are embarking upon the new frontier and this is imperative to our overall mission.

One of the crew members asked, “What mission is that, Sir?”

Captain McDuff didn’t have the heart to tell him. (167 words)

Photo credit to © Barbara Beacham

This is my submission for the weekly writing challenge hosted by Barbara Beacham, Monday’s Finish the Story. She give us a photo prompt, the first sentence to our story and approximately 150 words with which we write our stories. It’s fun and addicting. If you would like to participate, or read the other stories submitted for this challenge, please click on the prompt photo above.

 

Lackadaisical Sunday

It was a typical lazy Sunday afternoon and blessedly peaceful. My oldest daughter was out with friends and not around to act out her latest teenage drama. My lazy self wanted to take that coveted Sunday afternoon nap. Then, I heard the music. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle. The ice cream truck!

I forgot about being an adult. I forgot about my Sunday afternoon nap. I grabbed my change from the top of my dresser and followed all of the other children as we lined up to order our icy treat.

I walked away feverishly licking my ice cream to keep it from melting all over my hands. The creamy orange sweetness tickled my tummy as I ingested the sticky treat.

It was just another lackadaisical Sunday afternoon until the ice cream truck came through and I became a little child again, long enough to devour my delightfully delicious, messy treat. (150 words)

Photo credit ©Alistair Forbes

Join in the fun and submit your story for the writing challenge hosted by Alister Forbes. He gives us a photo prompt and approximately 200 words with which to write our flash fiction story with. It’s a lot of fun and addicting! If you would like to participate, click on the image below.





 

 

Weave

Priceless Joy:

This is a beautiful post written by a mother with children with disabilities. I hope you will take a moment and read.

Originally posted on Filtered Light:

They say that the tree of loving
Shine on me again
They say it grows on the bank of the river of suffering
Shine on me again, and

Weave, weave, weave me the sunshine out of the falling rain
Weave me the hope of a new tomorrow, fill my cup again
If only I could heal your sorrow
Shine on me again
I’d help you to find your new tomorrow
Shine on me again

– Peter, Paul and Mary

Funny what gifts can do.

It’s been difficult for our family these last few months. Some of it you already know, some of it simply isn’t my story to tell. But it’s been hard.  The changes, the medical challenges, the unknowns…. There have a been a lot of days when I just get so overwhelmed by all of it. I just want to throw my hands in the air and….. And…

View original 861 more words

FFfAW 5-13-2015 The Quacker Family

Buster didn't want go swimming with a buncha sissies. He wanted to go explorin'.

“Mamma, Buster isn't in line! Buster, you better get back here or you're gonna be in a load of trouble!”

“Shut up Sissy! You ain't the boss a me.” Quacked Buster.

It isn't easy being the only boy in a family of girls. He didn't wanna do girl stuff, he wanted to do boy stuff. He wanted to explore. All the girls wanted to do was swim.

“I'm not being bossy I'm helpin' mamma!” Sissy quacked to her rebellious little brother.

Buster's mamma wanted her children all in a row but Buster clearly wasn't gonna listen.

Mamma stopped waddling and quacked at Buster, “Buster, get back in line right now! You are not old enough to go out alone!”

“Ahh mamma!….Quack quack quack quack…”

“Quack, quack…Told you so! Told you so! Quack, quack, quack…” Quacked Sissy.

150 words

The photo for this week's prompt is supplied by pricelessjoy.

This is my story for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Weekly Challenge. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 150 words with which to write our story. Everyone is welcome to participate in this fun and addicting challenge. For more information, clickity click on this link: FFfAW

Also, click on the froggy button to read all the stories submitted for this challenge. You won't be disappointed.