NovelDr's Contest

This is a short story I did for NovelDr's contest on his blog, http://www.noveldr.com/. He asked all that entered to choose one of his first lines and one of his last lines and for it to be under 400 words.



The sun didn’t rise on Thursday. The roar of the thunder and the bright lightning radiated off the cliffs outside. The jagged light washed over the walls of Diana’s bedroom, jarring her out of a deep sleep. She glanced at the dim red glow of her clock, which read 6:02 AM. She would have preferred to have slept in.

She wouldn’t be going into her office today. That was already planned. Not that she had to clear her schedule or anything. She’d been losing a steady stream of clients with each pound she put on. Not many people wanted to work with a chunky nutritionist.

She didn’t want to get out bed just yet, but she needed to use the bathroom. She gently pulled her feet up from the covers, trying not to disturb the pile of Persian kitty at the base of her bed. “Felicity will be just fine. She has at least two weeks worth of food and water in her jumbo sized feeders.”

The floor creaked with each step to the bathroom, a noisy reminder of the coastal dampness rotting anything made of wood. The night-light glowed with blue intensity making her reflection in the mirror even paler than normal. Very ethereal and ghost like. She stopped and stared. She liked her reflection like this. It was even better than being lit by candlelight. No lines showed around her eyes and no gray at her temples. Yes, this was a good picture to hold on to in her mind.

Into the kitchen she shuffled, keeping the lights off. She was enjoying the darkness and all the shadows of her house. She gathered a package of Oreo’s off the counter and the sapphire blue bottle of gin and headed back to her room. As she crawled back into bed she hit the play button on the remote. There is no way of truly knowing how many times she had watched Titanic. It had lived in the dvd player since her divorce two years earlier. This movie and anything Nabisco have been her companions since that nightmare. She hugged her bag of cookies to her chest and watched. She took an occasional drink from her blue bottle on the bedside table. There was also another bottle. A brown prescription bottle on the bedside table.
The bottle was empty.

I am a work in progress

I have been doing lots of writing....but none are post worthy. I am hoping to finally finish my old man short story and have that up in a couple of days. Just needed to post something here for now.

The Old Man Part 1

This was another excercise given to me by my friend Shelly. She is insisting on several more pages of this story, so this will continue on another day. Please feel free to make comments. How would you like this story to go? Let me know!



This crazy thick fog is blinding this morning. It feels so cloying & wet. It’s definitely a bit creepy as it swirls and undulates under its own damp power. I can only imagine if I were claustrophobic there would be a lot more panic and a lot less awe. As it is it is very hypnotic and spellbinding in the sightlessness of it all. Not the best morning for a walk with my glasses on for sure. I can’t even see a few feet in front of me, and that’s after a fresh wipe of my sleeve on them. I’ll just keep one foot in front of the other & try to stay on this old cow trail. Of course there are hundreds of trails on this hillside, all intersecting like a city freeway. I’m sure if I keep myself at an angle I will be to the river in no time. I’ve got to keep my heart rate up and make this a calorie burner, or else what’s the point? It is not a good sightseeing walk for sure.

I wonder how many tourists get lost out here in the fog every summer. I think we loose many more falling off cliffs. Unfortunately we loose quite a few in the surf too. They never seem to realize it’s a different world out here on the coast.

Damn! I’ve wandered onto old man Larson’s place. I sure hope this fog veil is as good of a sound barrier as it is a visual one. If he thinks someone is on his property he will have his shotgun out faster than I could ever run. He has zero tolerance when it comes trespassers, and it makes no difference to him if I’m a lady. I think I’m better off continuing through his land rather than to try backtracking at this point. I’ll just cut through the back here and hope I will be hidden as I go down the hill. Such a strange little place stuck on this wind battered hill. To anyone else who happens to wander near here would assume that this is a long ago abandoned property. It seems the sad ancient one room shack is just waiting for the ground and dry grasses to consume it. How it continues to withstand the wild winters here must be by the old man’s will alone.

There is one wonderfully redeeming part to this old place and that is the 30 or 40 rhubarb plants set around its perimeter. You can’t help but to fantasize about cobblers, jams and sauces over ice cream when you see it. Somebody a long time ago loved rhubarb here. It almost erases the creepiness of Mr. Larson’s ancient wicked face. Almost…. erases that.
I will move a little faster so I won’t have his soulless face my last memory.

Untitled

I asked a good friend of mine to give me a creative writing idea to play with today. Something to flex my writing muscles, as I haven't written a story in about 15 years. Her odd idea was this, a time warp tunnel in my garden that leads to 1186 Scotland. This is what I came up with. A bit of light swearing. I hope I don't offend. I was letting ideas just tumble out and didn't filter for now.



Damn chickens! Looks like they’ve created another nest. This time they’re underneath my butterfly bush. I can’t totally blame them though. It looks nice back there underneath this behemoth of a plant. All cozy and tucked away between the base of it’s trunk and the house. It probably feels like an almost impenetrable chicken fort, protected from the likes of me. I had no idea this bush would get so big in under two years. Obviously or else I wouldn’t have planted my yellow tea rose & my lavender so close to it and now they are completely dwarfed & unseen. Someday I will take the time to replant them poor abused flower babies.

Well, I’ll show those hen hags. I’m claiming my egg booty and will completely destroy whatever habitable nest they may have created. I’m sure the puppy will enjoy a treat of unknown aged eggs. Here I go on my knees. Lovely! Nice and damp. Much wetter than I expected it to be, oh well. Another good reason I’m glad to have on my nasty jeans. A bit darker back here than I estimated as well. Guess I will feel my way to my rotten treasure trove.

What the hell! The damn puppy has been digging back here too! Little shit! It feels like he’s created a cavern under the house. I could scream! There has to be spikes or something I can put back here to deter the little pain in the ass. Ow! That would be my head on the house. I’m feeling so graceful crawling under here practically on my belly. I better duck down into this chasm and see how much damage he’s done this time. Great! I shouldn’t be able to see any light down here. He must have tunneled clear under the house. Maybe I should go get a flashlight so I can make sure I’m not heading into a skunk den. Naw, just smells damp. I’ll get this all bricked up before the stinkers find it. Hmmm, I’m still crawling. I can’t believe he has dug all this way. That pup is the destroyer of all that is dear to me, be it my home or my precious plants.

Okay……I think I should be on the other side of the house, right? That is definitely sunlight coming through the end of this tunnel, but I see way too much green. I would never waste our precious spring water on grass. That is definitely grass! Maybe I’ve gone further than I thought. I guess I could be near another spring on the property. Could the puppy actually dig so far as to reach another spring? I have given him way too much freedom. The puppy will now be on lockdown.

The hole is not quite big enough to get my head through. Holy crap! Did someone just walk by? I know I’m not far enough anywhere on this property that a random person could just walk by! Oh shit, another person just walked by. What the hell is going on? I hate trespassers! I’ve got to get my head out this damn hole and see what is happening here. I will be firm but nice. I will try not to rip them a new one.

Thankfully the dirt is soft enough that I won’t rip off my fingernails as I dig out a bit. OH MY GOD! This is not my house! This not my property! I’m freaking out now, can’t seem to swallow my heart back to where it belongs. I can’t hear anything but a loud thudding in my head. Am I passing out? No, no just having a panic attack. What am I tasting? Oh, god I’m biting my lip so hard that I’m bleeding. Well that tells me I’m not dreaming, but it also tells me I’ve lost my freakin mind! Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought. However, if I’m sane then there is a tenth century castle in my back yard! A huge tenth century castle, nestled into rolling green hills and dark rock. Somehow I have crawled under my house and into the Middle Ages. I have lost it! What else can I possibly think? I am backing the hell outta here! Backing up, backing up. I don’t think I’ve crawled in reverse this fast in my life. Of course why would I ever be doing such a thing in the first place? Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap! My crazy gene pool has finally showed up in me. It was just a matter of time. My family tree is full of loons!

Oh thank god! I’ve landed ass first into my rose. Calm down Erika. You are where you belong, or at least comprehend. I can feel the rose thorns hooking into my back. That’s real, right? Whew! Just relax. Now where did I hide that bottle of rum? Sounds like the perfect head clearer to me. I think I will keep this mental lapse into la la land to myself.

Ugh, I seem to have found my rotten treasure trove with my butt. Oh my lovely impudent hens. Here puppy, puppy I have a treat for you!