It is for Short Stories! I am really looking forward to this again this year. I had such a wonderful time each time I have attempted this.
Thanks to Julie for all she does.
Did he really say that dirty skunk shot me? Asked the little boy.
The man spit his chew into the grass. “He sure did. He said it again when we him to to the hospital.”
“Did that guy really shoot the Sheriff?”
“He might have. We may never know”
“why?”
“Because I didn’t see the shooter. I was walking with the sheriff toward the barn when in the blink of an eye the shot rang out. The sheriff grabbed his side and said that the dirty skunk shot me. I helped him to the car and drove him into town. I didn’t see the shooter and I don’t think he did either.”
“But the had a trial and convicted that man.”
“That is my cross to bear. I testified that I saw him but I lied.”
“lying is bad, Grandpa.”
“I know it is. I have spent all this time on earth knowing that I may have sent an innocent man to prison. Everyone is dead now but I know I will be punished when my time comes. Don’t ever lie, son. It makes your life a hell on earth.”
“Yes, grandpa. But I still love you.”
He knew he was a lucky man but at what a cost.
He gazes at her porcelain face savoring the opportunity to look unnoticed. He didn’t care what people thought. To him she was one of the most beautiful girls in school.
He leans toward her and whispers, “I am so sorry.” Quickly he walks away hiding his tears. This was his fault. He was thoughtless. He had joked with the gang about a girl at the counter in the lunch room. The words he said no longer mattered. He said them and he thought the gang had laughed. He knew now that Amanda didn’t laugh.
Amanda took his cruel words about the weight of the girl to heart. Now instead of going to the movies with her he was attending her visitation.
In the blink of an eye he had uttered the words that destroyed his dreams of Amanda becoming his wife. He vowed to make it up to her. He would learn from what he had done. He would remember this anytime he felt the need for a cruel or unkind comment.
A new year, a fresh spring, a new chance to do this again. I need to pull some more prompts together but am anxious to begin.
I have new characters to meet, soon to be friends.
I hope you enjoy this. I am so grateful for this month, this challenge. Thank you!!
The End
“It’s the end, isn’t it?” Karen thought as she looked at the calendar. She saw that it was indeed the end of May. She felt an ache in her chest knowing that the Story a Day month was nearly over.
Karen had gone to the website and read the wonderful stories that on the blog. She knew that there were still stories that would appear on the blog for her to read, but she hated for it to end.
“So many talented authors. So many unknown authors,” she thought. “What can I do to encourage them to keep going?”
She paced and thought about the situation. When she went to bed, she tried to dream of ways to make the wonderful writing continue. Several days went by and she still was no closer to an answer.
As she sat in a boring meeting, it came to her. She could go to the blog and post as many positive comments as she could on all the stories that she loved. She wanted these authors to know that people really do enjoy reading their work. Maybe with that encouragement, they would keep writing.
Karen went to the blog site and began writing her comments. She felt as light hearted as she commented. “You are a very talented author, please, please keep writing,” she put on one. As she selected save, it came to her. She could try her hand as well. Maybe she would start now.
“Thank you, Story A Day, for encouraging me in my dream.”
“That stairway goes to nowhere”, I thought. I looked at it curiously. This twenty plus step ornate wooden staircase that led to nothing but air, sat near a corner in the countryside. There was no barn. There was no house. There was nothing to give a clue as to what the stairway used to lead.
I pulled my car to the gravel drive that was close to the staircase and sat there and looked at it some more. It was beautiful. The staircase was wide. I could almost see someone descending the staircase in a beautiful long gown with a flowing train.
A chuckle escaped my lips from the foolishness of the thought. Yet I had a very strong desire to go to the staircase. Maybe even to possibly climb the staircase. I sat and pondered the foolishness of this thought. I would look very stupid to anyone driving by. My feet were clad in flip flops and yet the weeds that I would have to walk through to get to there. Who knew what was hiding in the tall weeds.
Still it drew me. Throwing caution to the wind, I stepped out of the car and made my way carefully through the weeds. Using the key fob, I locked the car and pocketed my keys in my back pocket.
As I get closer to the staircase, it seems to be even larger, even taller than what it had appeared to be from the road. I look up from the bottom and the staircase seems to have many more steps that I first thought. The wood is a very rich mahogany. The newel post has a scrolling pattern.
I look back to the road, but it now seems so far away. There is no evidence of any traffic, so I begin climbing. The steps are so solid, that I am amazed. After sitting in the elements for who knows how long, I would have suspected that there would be weaknesses. Throwing caution to the wind, I continued up the steps using the center of the steps. Higher and higher, I climb. Looking back to the road, it seems so small. I look around the countryside and see the beauty of the land as it gently flows as far as the eye can see.
Looking down to the ground, I realize that I can barely see the first step. I quickly calculate that I must have climbed at least thirty or more steps by now. “This is ridiculous”, I think. I could not have possible climbed that high and yet as I look up, the stairs continue to go on.
I begin to run up the stairs all the while looking up and seeing that I am getting no closer to the top. I’m surprised to find that I am not winded from the run.
Finally, I stop. I’m trying to decide if I want to keep running when I feel a warm breeze upon my face. The sun suddenly seems brighter. Looking down, I don’t see the ground any longer. Instead of being afraid, I somehow feel peace. But why?
I lean back against the railing and think about my options. I could go back down or I could continue. But yet, I have climbed so high and have still not found the top.
“You have found what you were looking for,” I hear.
“Who is that?” I asked softly. Cautiously, I look around for the owner of the voice.
“You know who I am,” the voice said.
As I look up, I see bare feet coming down the steps. Above them is a white flowing robe. “Oh man,” I think.
“I’m dead, aren’t I?” I asked.
“No, you are not dead,” the owner of the voice laughed. “You have a long life ahead of you yet. I just put out the welcome mat because I wanted to have a little chat with you.”
“A chat?” I asked stupidly. “What have I done wrong?”
As I watch, the man coming toward me has long flowing hair. His hair is beautiful, full of waves. Waves that I had always wanted in my own hair. He smiled and held his hand out to me.
“Come,” he says as I put my hand in his. “Come sit beside me,” he said as he sat on one of the steps. I sit below him a step.
“I can see that you are afraid. Please do not be afraid. There is nothing you should fear.”
“But why am I here if I am not dead or dying?”
“I want your help,” he said.
“My help?” I asked incredulously. “But you are the all-powerful, how can I possibly help you?”
“One of my children has lost their way. I need your help in rescuing them.”
“Are they hurt?”
“No,” he said sadly. “They are not hurt yet. But they will be if they continue on the path that they have chosen.”
“Who do I need to help?”
I know that I gasped as he told me the name. “But I know that person. Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I need your help to get them back on the right path. You can do this.”
“But can I do it alone?”
He smiled, he placed his hand on my shoulder. “You have the strength of many. Besides, my child, I am always with you. If you need my help, you just need to ask and I will be there.”
“Will I come back here?”
“No, you will not. These steps will be gone by the time you get back to your car.”
“But how will I find you?”
“Look deep into your heart. Listen carefully. That is I talking with you.”
I nodded solemnly and stood. “I will help you as you have always helped me.”
“I knew that you would,” he smiled. “Let me help you to your car.”
“I can make it,” I began. I looked around in surprise as I found myself back in the driver’s seat of my car. Shaking my head at my foolishness, I moved to the put the car in gear and realized it was not even running. Reaching around, I pulled the keys from my back pocket.
“It must have happened,” I whispered.
“It did,” a voice said. “I am always with you.”
I looked in the rearview mirror to see if the voice came from the back seat and was shocked at what I saw. I looked closer and still was not convinced. Finally, I pulled the visor down and looked into the vanity mirror there. My hair was now white. A pearly white, but it was white. There was not a trace of my former red locks. The other surprise was the waves, the beautiful waves of my dreams.
“You did seem to admire them,” the voice said. “Now go, I don’t want you to be too late.”
Starting the car, I carefully backed out onto the county road. I headed back in the direction I had come. I needed to get to the interstate. I needed to get down to the capital. My help is needed there.
Thursday comes and goes in the blink of an eye. She had hoped that he would be home today. His tour of duty was to have ended within the past two weeks. Instead, she sits by the phone and waits for the call to let her know that he will be here soon. She is afraid to leave the house and miss the call. She knows that he can call her cell phone, but she does not want to waste a single minute.
The clock ticks into Friday and then it is Saturday and now Sunday. She decides she can no longer wait to buy groceries. She wants to cook him his favorite meal when he gets home.
As she picks up her purse and grabs her car keys, the doorbell chimes. She sets them down on the entry table and opens the door. Outside, the two uniformed men stand solemnly on the front step.
Man Overboard
He has done it again. That man goes overboard every time with his perpetual pokiness. He started this project of putting trim into our newly constructed basement bedroom. My husband began the project several weeks ago. It took him nearly a week to paint the wood in the basement. Once done, he brought it all up to the garage. He goes downstairs to measure, back upstairs to cut and then back down to install.
Measure and repeat.
Good thing, I have my writing to keep me occupied. Watching him would likely drive me insane.
