This is where I present my daily microfiction stories, mostly based on the past week’s prompts from The Fiction Dealer. By posting my humble tales - the good, bad, silly, and indifferent - I hope to inspire others to allow their creativity to come out and play.
The clematis are pretty happy, too. Photo by Jeannine.
Sun rose high above Cloud and the people complained about the dismal day. He burned Cloud until she retreated, but then heard gripes about the infernal heat.
They appealed to Mother Nature. She explained, “They're silly and don’t understand that both of you together feed the plants and keep everyone alive.”
Cloud begged, “How can we bring them joy so even they can understand.”
Mother Nature smiled and taught them how to mix raindrops and sunbeams to create seven great arcs of color in the sky. And so the People saw their first rainbow and cried and laughed with joy.
Father was dying. Joe sat by his side, holding his hand, as the old grandfather’s clock ticked away the seconds. It struck midnight, then one ‘o clock, then two. By the time it struck three, Joe couldn’t hear it, for he had nodded off.
Joe startled awake hours later. His father’s hand was ice cold. As the clock struck six, he wept, realizing that his father had died in his sleep.
Joe brought the grandfather's clock home with him. He loved the old familar ticking. Whenever the clock struck six, he remembered his father’s peaceful passing and his undying love.
Not Private Philip, but one of his colleagues. “Francis ‘Frank’ W. Knowles, 36th Massachusetts Infantry.” Posted by East Carolina University Library Collections on Wikimedia Commons.
Overdose, but couldn't be helped - Private Philip’s story needed extra words..
Private Philip was a member of the 29th Massachusetts Infantry.
He was wounded on June 17th, at the beginning of the Siege of Petersburg. It took him fourteen days to die, which finally came to pass on July 1st, 1864. He was only seventeen years old.
The Siege continued on for ten months, successfully cutting off supplies to Robert E. Lee’s troops, which helped end the Civil War in 1865.
Private Philip was a hero, a boy forced to live and die as a man. He is buried in the Arlington National Cemetary. His regimental sword has been passed through his family for generations, a reminder of the terrible cost of our freedom.
It was a good night for the thief. With nobody home, there was all the time in the world to steal whatever he pleased.
When the door slammed, he threw open the window, only to fall helplessly to the floor, screaming, for an easy arrest. The tiny, buzzing, striped warriors fought angrily, displeased that he'd disturbed their window casement nest.
Each of these is wonderful in its way. This time I especially liked the haiku about the Subaru, though. I used to drive one, and really loved it!
We have a clock just like that! Same make and design and everything! The bit at the top of ours is the only difference (it's an eagle).
Doesn't seem to work anymore though [sad face]