Tuesday, 26 April 2016

Flash Fiction

This was written from a prompt in my writing class last week.  The subject is close to my heart, so I thought I'd share it with you!

The prompt was:  Before they could make any progress, they would have to get past that slobbering hound.

            Before they could make any progress, they would have to get past that slobbering hound.  What was it now, mom's fourth?  Daphne, I think she'd said was this one's name.  But Abby was good with dogs and no sooner had she knelt down to the mutt's eye level than the bitch had rolled over on her back ready for a belly rub.  It was a hell of a thing to see and never got old. 
            It amazed Tom every time Abby worked her magic with his mom's dogs;  all hounds, all female.  His mother had a weakness for them and their numbers were growing.  Who knew when it would stop?  Daphne had replaced Carolina who passed away in her sleep three months ago at the ripe old age of 15.  They were destructive too, chewing on shoes, chairs, TV remotes, couch cushions, you name it.  But mom didn't care and they - all four of them  - slept with her in her king-size bed. 
            With access to the porch now and Abby well in control of Daphne, he placed the moving box on the threshold, pressed the doorbell and waited.  Daphne pawed and sniffed at the box, at the movement and whimpering coming from inside.  And then she lifted her head and let out a deep, prolonged howl; it was what mom called baying.  Mom came to the door with a wide grin on her pretty face and said, "Did you bring them?"
            "Have a look," I said.  "How many is that now, mom?"  She opened the box and let the little squirmers loose. 

            "Lucky seven," she said.

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

On Platitudes

I think gratitude is great.  If it is genuinly felt.

I don't think it should be a bandade on reality.  I think we need to acknowledge our boo-boos and then if we feel grateful, we just do.

Nobody (at least noboby I know) feels grateful all of the time.  On any given day we can feel a million different ways.  Minute to minute, hour to hour.  That's life.  That's the truth.

So no platitudes, please.  I will feel whatever is it I'm feeling and when I'm done, maybe gratitude will take me.  Maybe it won't.

Whatever takes me,  I can handle it.