Tale Number Seventy-Five – Some Like It Hot

Some Like It Hot

prompt:  none


“Come on out.  It’s cooled down a lot already.”

Anna smiled and followed her uncle out into his garage.  He was so eager to show her his workshop and she was more than happy to see and hear all about it.  But it was August.  In Tucson.  Northern Sonoran Desert.  In other words, it was freaking hot.  She had stalled and delayed until evening, hoping it would be less stifling in the converted metal storage building that Uncle Ted used as his garage and shop.  Continue reading “Tale Number Seventy-Five – Some Like It Hot”

Tale Number Seventy-Four – This Is Goodbye

This Is Goodbye

prompt:  this is goodbye


This was it.  She was really going to do it this time.  Those other four times were just, well, practice.  This one.  This one was the real time.  Amanda nodded firmly, gripped the strap of her backpack a little tighter, and lifted her chin.  She pushed open the door and charged into the building as if she owned the place.  Her abrupt arrival may have startled the woman at the reception desk, but she gave no sign of it.  Instead, she smiled broadly as Amanda approached. Continue reading “Tale Number Seventy-Four – This Is Goodbye”

Memorial Day Hiatus

photo by Rachel Larue (this is public domain but it’s lovely and I wanted to give her credit)


Hello Everyone!

I’ll be on a quick little break over the Memorial Day Weekend but will return to post Tale Number Seventy-Four on Tuesday, May 30.

Have a wonderful weekend.  🙂


Tale Number Seventy-Three – It’s Time

It’s Time

prompt:  none


“It’s time,” said Nate.  He stood just inside the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I know.  Give me just a few more minutes,” Beth answered.  “I promise, I’m almost ready.”

“You said that fifteen minutes ago.” Nate said.  He came further into the room and stood beside Beth’s desk.  “Will a few more minutes really make a difference at this point?” Continue reading “Tale Number Seventy-Three – It’s Time”

Tale Number Seventy-Two – It’s Making Me Wait

It’s Making Me Wait

prompt:  No prompt.  But I do want to send my best to all those studying for and sitting their final exams.  Also, my warmest congratulations to this year’s graduates!


It was cute when it was a ketchup ad.  Carly Simon would sing and the waiting kids would drool as they waited for their favorite condiment.  Adorable.

The idea of being in a state of quivering anticipation certainly had some appeal.  Miranda could admit that.  The trouble was, when people pictured that mental state, they imagined a person waiting for something wonderful.  So what, exactly, might one say about the nervous, trembling period of waiting that she was currently experiencing?  Miranda simply didn’t know.  What she did know was that it was awful. Continue reading “Tale Number Seventy-Two – It’s Making Me Wait”

Tale Number Seventy-One – Beside the Still Waters

Beside the Still Waters

prompt:  beside the still waters


They stood before the painting, absorbed in the soft colors spread across the canvas.

“What a beautiful representation of Psalm Twenty-Three,” said Tim.  “I’ve been so used to the image of the shepherd and the sheep, seeing this different part of the scripture makes it all so fresh and new in my mind.”

“That’s a nice thought,” Brenda answered.  “I never even thought of that psalm, though.” Continue reading “Tale Number Seventy-One – Beside the Still Waters”

Tale Number Sixty-Seven – The Standard By Which a Man Is Measured

The Standard By Which a Man Is Measured

prompt:  historical fiction/a general/a walk in a forest

Please note:  If you missed yesterday’s post, please note that I have altered my posting schedule to Monday/Wednesday/Friday.  🙂


The shade was welcome after the glare of the open fields.  It was quiet as well, and the silence was as welcome as the cool dimness.  The clash of blades, the thunder of cannon, and the harsh shouts of hundreds of men had left their ears ringing.  Fighting to protect the interests of the Church from the encroaching Venetians was a holy cause, but in the blighted Umbrian fields around Terni, it sounded like the screams of Hell.  Here, however, the only sounds were the muffled clomps of the horses’ hooves on the mulchy forest floor, the creak of the harnesses, and the heavy breathing of three dozen tired men.  There wasn’t even birdsong since all the birds, even the collared doves, had hushed as they passed. Continue reading “Tale Number Sixty-Seven – The Standard By Which a Man Is Measured”