Figures there would be a downpour when I don’t have my umbrella and my car is on the other side of the parking lot. Oh, there is Mr. Dreamy and he doesn’t have an umbrella either, and obviously not happy about it. Looks like he is coming over here to wait in the doorway for the rain to stop. We will be stuck here together for a while, I think. What a pity.
This post is for the prompt rains at
and for the prompt stuck/together at
Image: wikimedia
This weeks Five Sentence Fiction prompt is,
Pages
The early morning meeting with the specialist had been difficult leaving her depressed and cold with despair. At home now, sitting in her chair she dried her eyes and picked up the book she had started reading last night. Books were the one thing that never hurt her, never left her feeling empty and lonely. She found such pleasure, almost a sensual pleasure in a book; seeing it waiting there to be picked up, the holding of it, the feel and smell of the paper, hearing the whisper of the turning pages, the words carrying her away from her troubled life. She will spend all of her time in the company of her love now and will remember the pleasure and beauty of it later, when the disease finishes its evil work and leaves her without sight.
Image: wikimedia
The prompt this week is
Marriage
Light and dark so different yet so perfect for each other.
One cool and fragile and one warm and hardy.
With delicacy and robustness they delight and are perfect.
Yes, they are better together than apart.
Vanilla ice cream and hot fudge.
Image: pixabay
I have a short story for you today.
A Five Sentence Fiction story.
This weeks prompt: Innocence
Everyone looked at the woman, the only person standing in the crowded room.
It was so quiet, eerily quiet, as they waited to hear what she had to say.
It was if her words were the most important words they would ever hear.
In fact, for him, they were. She glanced at him then cleared her throat and said,
“Your Honor, we the jury, find the defendant Not Guilty.”
The Daisy
While wandering through Grandma’s garden I was wondering if he loves me.
I saw the perfect daisy and I picked it and began to pluck its petals.
He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me.
Just a few more petals and I will have my answer.
He loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me no…
well, obviously this was not the perfect daisy!
Mama didn’t hear anything but she knew what was coming.
Even if the sky didn’t get dark and the wind didn’t pick up she would know.
She knew it was coming because the house was unusually quiet and looked empty of life.
The kids were in their hidey-holes; Smudge behind the sofa, Brewster under the bed,
and Holy Terrier on the bed and under the quilt.
Better than any weatherman’s predictions they always know when thunder is about to roar.
Today, I think I have known a few “kids” who have been good weatherman.
Patricia's Place 
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