Category Archives: short story challenge

“The Blanket” – My First Short Story

Back when I took the F2K Free Creative Writing course, I discovered how much I love writing short stories. After several lessons were under our belts, we were given a short story challenge. Participation was voluntary and if we so desired, we could try our hands at the guidelines. These were, write a story with a beginning, middle and end, one thousand words or less, containing these three objects: a blanket, a TV stand and an empty glass.

I couldn’t believe the ideas these three objects sparked. Long time readers of my blog will be familiar with this since I’ve asked you to submit these objects that I call sparks for a few short stories here. The first story I wrote is dear to my heart and I had originally posted it on the blog until a fellow writer told me if I ever wanted to publish the story, it couldn’t be published elsewhere. I contacted one publication that focuses on the kind of material this story is about but they don’t publish fiction.

I’ve decided the story doesn’t belong anywhere if not that publication or right here at the Roof. It has been just sitting in my computer collecting dust and a writer wants her creativity to be experienced by others. So, I decided Thanksgiving would be a good day to publish my first ever short story here. I hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 993

“The Blanket”

The sun was setting as I left, a slight chill in the air. My name was called from the direction of the smokers, and as I turned, I saw Troy breaking free of the haze as he tossed his smoke and jogged toward me.

“Troy, congratulations my man.” I took him into a warm hug.

“Pat, thanks. And thank you for being a part of this last year. I have a favor to ask you…” he trailed off, as if afraid to continue. He often called me is sober mom, since I was old enough to be. When he walked into the rooms a year ago, he was the shell of a boy lingering on the threshold of manhood. How things change, I thought. I urged him to ask his question by saying nothing, only squeezing his hand.

“I watch you crochet those blankets,” he began sheepishly, “and I wonder if you’d make me one. I’ll pay you.” His eyes filled with tears and for a second, I couldn’t speak. I hadn’t expected that, the question, nor the show of emotion.

“Of course I’ll make you a blanket but you can pay me by explaining why asking for it filled those beautiful baby blues with tears.” I grinned at him and he relaxed.

“Deal. Can you make it in shades of green?”

“You got it darlin.” He had no other requests as to the pattern or anything, just shades of green. Interesting, I thought as I walked to my car.

Over the next few weeks, I worked on his blanket. When I crochet something for someone,a little love goes in to every stitch. I thought about Troy and how far he had come, and a few tears even made their way into the strands of yarn. When the finishing touches were added, and the blanket washed, I called Troy and we met for coffee.

As we settled in, whisps of smoke in the air and Nirvana spilling from the speakers, the blanket tucked neatly into a bag at my feet, I faced Troy, sipping the bitter espresso. “Ok, you know the deal, spill.”

Troy sighed and took a long pull on his mocha. “My mother crocheted me a blanket when I was 16. I mean, sure it was nice and all, but hell, I was 16. I wanted cds and nudey mags, you know? I don’t think I ever even used it, but I always had it, even when I left at 18, immersed in my drinking. I started dating this girl who found it and washed it and draped it over my couch. It looked so stupid. A crocheted blanket in shades of green on my stained, beat up blue couch,” he laughed and took another long pull of his mocha.

“When I was 19, mom was killed in a drunk driving accident. She was the drunk one. I hated her for that.”

I sat there, the warmth slowly fading from my cup.

Troy continued, “ironically, I hated her for being what I was becoming. One night some buddies were over and we got loaded. One of the guys ended up puking everywhere. I was already blacked out by then. Another guy grabbed that blanket off the couch, mopped up the vomit, and took the blanket to the dumpster.”

“I woke up the next morning, sprawled on the floor by the tv. I reached up and touched my aching head and it was sticky with blood. I had fallen into the tv stand the night before and busted open my eyebrow. I remember staring at an empty glass next to the tv. Had that been my glass? I still don’t know. I don’t remember how I found out about the blanket, but I remember running to the dumpster, only to find it completely empty. The damn trash man had already been there. I drank even more in those last few months, eventually landing myself a good ol’ DUI and walking into my first meeting after a nudge from the judge. When my head started clearing, and I saw you making those blankets, I knew I needed one.”

He stopped talking and flopped back onto the couch, fishing in his pocket for a cigarette. He tried lighting it with shaking hands, until I took the lighter and lit it for him. I didn’t speak and neither did he. When he was done smoking, I reached down and handed him the bag. He gingerly removed the blanket from the bag, lovingly caressing the different textured yarns in many shades of green. Finally he broke down, leaning forward with his head in the folds of the blanket arms on his knees, shoulders wracking with sobs. Now a grown man, unabashedly sobbing in the coffee shop.

We could have looked like mother and son there in that hazy shop, as I set my cup down and wrapped him in my arms as the blanket soaked up his tears. When he had calmed, he sat up and gave me a winning smile, mouthing the words, thank you.

“No, thank you,” I whispered. Brushing his hair from his forehead I said, “I knew that story would be the best payment you could have given me for this blanket. You are a miracle my son. I’m so honored to be a part of your amends to your mom.”

His eyes widened. “Amends?”

I sat back and smiled. “How do we make amends to the dead? We live our lives with grace and dignity and maybe we recreate something we lost of them. Isn’t that what you did?” He laughed and said he hadn’t thought of it that way, but agreed that I was right.

The sun was setting as we left the coffee shop, hand in hand, mother and son in sobriety, his story still swimming in our minds, a part of both our pasts now, and pushing us forward into the future, one day at a time.

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Filed under coffeeholic, crochet, gratitude, holiday, misty eyes, NaBloPoMo 2012, plugs, short story challenge, sobriety, writing

SSC5 – “Vegas” – Fiction – 998 wds

Author’s note: I missed my own deadline on this story, but since it’s my own deadline you don’t need to hear my excuses. It was actually a good learning experience since this is the first writing project I’ve started and walked away from for awhile. Being able to return to it was good, since I’ve had this fear about returning to the YA novel after such a long hiatus. Amanda’s objects won and she’s going out of town this week, so I returned to the story yesterday with a new deadline of tonight. The story was half finished when I came back to it. Hope you enjoy.

Sparks from Amanda: Graduation gown, Las Vegas, wedding ring

‘Vegas’ – by Ro

     We were a close knit group of kids when we left high school to pursue our dreams. For my twin brother Scott and his girlfriend Kim, the dream was to have a family which began with a small wedding, seemingly as the ink was drying on their diplomas and Kim was pregnant before we were twenty.

     Kim’s best friend Nicole went off to college in Pennsylvania and I played college ball in our home state of Arizona. Nicole had always just been my nerdy friend, in my life because of Scott and Kim, that is until I became friends with her on Facebook. Something about watching her life through the ether made my view of her change. She was a go-getter, chasing her dreams with an intensity I admired. She was such a geek and so proud of it that she posted her achievements in her status updates and I found her pride endearing. I would comment with ridiculous statements about chemistry, which I knew nothing about and she reciprocated by telling me what I should have done with a play at short. The girl knew baseball. I looked forward to our online bantering and was surprised when I found myself feeling pangs of jealousy when her status changed to ‘in a relationship’, and relief when it reverted back to ‘single’.

     I did my fair share of dating in college. Girls were drawn to the uniform but not necessarily me. I was signed to a minor league deal after my junior year and made my way to Las Vegas to start my minor league career.

     That Christmas, we all got together back in Arizona and that was when Nicole and I moved from Facebook flirting to quickly falling in love. We knew a long distance relationship would be difficult but thanks to Facebook and Skype, we kept in touch easily. I was elated upon receiving the email from Facebook asking me to confirm that Nicole and I were in a relationship. That is how you go steady these days, you see.

     When Nicole graduated from college the following spring, the four of us decided to celebrate in Las Vegas so Scot, Kim and Nicole could watch me play and we could spend time together before Nicole headed off to England to start her graduate work. It might sound crazy, but I decided to propose to her before she flew across the sea. I loved her; it just felt right.

     I led Nicole onto the terrace of the quaint little restaurant the four of us dined in one night. She was completely surprised as I nervously popped the question and she threw her arms around me as she said yes. I was thrilled to know the wedding ring I had purchased to match the diamond solitaire would live on her finger someday.

     Scott and Kim cheered when Nicole proudly showed them her left hand and Scott kidded us saying we should marry soon since we were in Vegas. I looked at Nicole and raised my eyebrows.

     “I don’t have a dress,” she blurted, understanding the implication of the look.

     “For two people so ideally suited, why wait?” Kim asked, giggling. We were all a little tipsy except for Kim, who was pregnant again. I had liquid courage.

     “There’s a chapel next door,” I slurred. “I’ll be there in the morning. You think about it.” We all laughed and Nicole blushed, something I rarely see her do.

     The next morning Scott pounded on the door of my apartment, waking me to remind me I had told Nicole I would meet her in the chapel.

     “I did? Oh, I did,” I stammered groggily as I dropped onto the couch. “Do you think she’ll show?”

     “Justin, if she does, and you’re not there, you’re an idiot,” Scott shouted, pulling me to my feet. Angry grumbles issued from my roommate’s room, cursing the noise at such an hour.

     After I showered and dressed, Scott and I headed to the little chapel. My heart was pounding and my mouth dry, wondering if Nicole would be there. During the drive I kept thinking it was crazy; Nicole wouldn’t show. But what if she did? Were we ready for marriage?

     When Scott and I arrived, Nicole wasn’t there. I wanted to turn and bolt but Scott wouldn’t allow it. I told the minister all about the previous night, explaining why we were there without a plan, giving him a chuckle.

     “Son, nothing surprises me here,” he drawled.

     “Justin?” came a voice from the doorway. I turned and saw Nicole standing there and I had to suppress a laugh. She was wearing her white graduation gown.

     She approached me slowly, almost shyly. I grinned at her like a boy at his first baseball game as relief flooded through me. I reached out and tugged the sleeve of the gown and she blushed almost as crimson as her auburn curls.

     “I don’t know why I threw it in my suitcase,” she said,pinching the fabric of the gown nervously. “Everything happened so fast after graduation, packing and hurrying to get to the airport, I just threw it in, it was the only thing I have here that is white,” she was speaking a million miles a minute, her nerves bubbling out into shaking syllables.

     I bent and gently brushed my lips against hers. “You look beautiful,” I whispered, inhaling the sweet vanilla lingering on her skin. Her eyes were glistening as her smile reached them. “Marry me?” I asked stupidly.

     “Yes,” she whispered.

     We were apart a lot in the first years of our marriage, however we made it work. Nicole continued her education and I made the majors. Somehow we found the time to raise two amazing little girls. I’ve hit a lot of beautiful home runs in my career, but nothing looked so lovely as Nicole standing there in that silly graduation gown framed by the doorway of the little chapel, ready to become my wife.

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The short story objects, thanks guys!

Thanks for your object submissions everyone! The winning number was 1. Here is the number sequence page.

Here were the objects in order of received comments:

1. Amanda – graduation gown, las vegas, a wedding ring

2. Brooke – military, golden retriever, black flies

3. L^2 – pizza, rain, scream

4. Hobbes Dogs – Airplane, Paper Clip, Photo Album

5. Carin – Firecracker, elevator, fake hanging plant

Soooo, I’ll write a thousand word or less host story with a beginning, middle and end with the winning objects and post it by Tuesday. Thanks everyone!

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I want to write short stories again. Wanna help?

This morning I opened up the two novels I have started. I’m not sure one of them can really be classified as a novel yet, more of a project. The young adult fiction novel however, definitely fits the bill as a novel. Unfortunately, I just don’t have the muse. I don’t know how to pick up where I left off back when I had all that momentum in November and pounded out sixty thousand words in two weeks.

I decided what might help jump start some creativity again is to get back to my short story challenge. For those familiar with this, you know what to do in the comments.

For those new to the blog, I enjoy writing a short story based around three objects that I get from you, the reader. I keep track of the objects and then after the deadline I set, I use a random number generator to pick the objects. I then write a thousand word or less fictional story around the objects.

If you’re curious, leave me three objects in the comments. I’m hoping this might jump start the writing again. I feel so fulfilled when I’m writing; I just need the sparks to ignite the fire. The link above will show you all the posts about the challenge.

I’m anxious to get started, so I’m gonna be really greedy and set a deadline of the end of today. If I only get one comment, you will win haha! If the world ends before that, I was never meant to be a writer anyway. 😉

Oh and I have a deadline too. I’ll set my deadline to Tuesday night. That’s when I’ll post the story, unless I finish it really fast. Thanks!

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Oh man, this bonus story is gonna be interesting

I’ve decided to do the end of the month bonus story I had planned on doing before. So, what I’m gonna do is select three sets of Sparks from the ones not selected that I’ve kept track of. There are twenty five unused Sparks, so I’m generating a sequence from one to twenty five. Ok, here’s the sequence. It picked seven, five and nine. Wow, all those numbers and it stayed close together lol! Ah well.

Here is the list of unused sparks:

1. Carin – chair, knapsack, phone

2. Amanda – Panda, leash, guitar

3. Steve – Squirrel, refrigerator box, stop sign

4. L^2 – Winter, purple, elephant

5. Toby’s Raiser – Polka dots, music, camera

6. Katrin – Pencil, dolphin, rock

7. Natalie – necklace, nose, paranoid homeless person

8. Carin – A bunch of bananas, a wrench, a pile of dirty clothes

9. Amanda – a guide dog that loves things that squeak, a tall dark mysterious man, a talking Panda

10. Jen and Bil – Turtle, psychology,… mushrooms

11. Hobbes Dogs – A speed bump, a battery, a baseball

12. Carin – a cookie, a doorknob, a broom

13. Pattib – snowstorm, penny-jar, Grandfather clock

14. Steve – An apple, a Rubik’s Cube, a shovel

15. Jen and Bil – turtle, leash, spanish book

16. Amanda – A Bond girl, special brownies, Gibson Les Paul guitar

17. Katrin – transaction ticket, scissors, wireless modem

18. Amanda – A speakeasy, a flapper dress, a piano

19. Carin – A TV remote, a telephone, a shoe

20. L^2 – Toothpaste, a marble, sunshine

21. Pattib – oak leaf, sunshine, mist

22. Hobbes Dogs – A tower, a photo album, and a plastic bag

23. Jen and Bil – Worms, Vira Bradly, hamburgers

24. Steve – Cookies, a bottle, an exercise ball

25. Maddie – iPhone, Laptop, Car

So, I’ve decided the bonus stories will have a word limit of three thousand and I’ll incorporate nine sparks. Any guesses as to why I picked three thousand and nine sparks?

So this story will have these objects: Polka dots, music, camera, necklace, nose, paranoid homeless person,a guide dog that loves things that squeak, a tall dark mysterious man and a talking Panda.

Oh boy, this should be interesting hahaha!!! The rest of the unused Sparks will go back into the pool for next time.

Year ago recap post will be coming later. 😉

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SSC4 – “Socks 2” – Fiction – 999 wds

Sparks from Lisa: Grapes, sneeze, lillies

‘Socks 2’ – by Ro (Continued from ‘Socks’)

     Emily lay in bed, her head reeling from the day’s events. She had updated Jackie and Dan, her time exchange chaperones, but had left out the information about the boy who had decided to stay in the past. When asked if she had found a prospective person to bring back, she had just shrugged and said she was getting to know people. As she lay on the soft pillow thinking about Billy, her mind was like a blizzard of thoughts. Could she stay here? Would she leave everything she had for a boy? She couldn’t believe he had kissed her. That was something you only saw in movies, she thought, flipping over onto her belly with a sigh, remembering the warm feeling she had experienced when his lips had met hers. She wondered if the urgency was something Billy had learned in the fifties. After all, the war had just begun to end. Maybe Billy had felt how frantic things had been. How long had he been here? If his history was any good, he knew about the Korean war and how many men were sent over there. Was he afraid the war wouldn’t end and he’d be drafted? Then why stay? Or maybe she was a comfort to him, being from the present and he had acted quickly, lest she decide to return. Or maybe he was just fast…

     Emily shook her head against the pillow, trying to stop her racing thoughts. The more she thought about history, the more the thought of staying appealed to her. The rise of rock and roll. The gorgeous Elvis in his heyday. Those were things she’d love to witness first hand. But no iPods? She drifted off to sleep with this unnerving thought in her mind.

     She dressed for school nervously the next morning, wishing she had chosen to be a greaser girl rather than the prim and proper Barbie type. She couldn’t wait to see Billy again and was very much enjoying the crush. There was something just plain swell about him. She giggled at the use of the word in her thoughts.

     She didn’t see Billy at all during the change of morning classes. It wasn’t until halfway through lunch, as she sat with her new friends. She scanned the crowded room for him, her eyes lingering on any boy wearing black.

     “Emily, hello?” crooned Barbara. “I asked you a question silly, what has you so distracted?”

     “What? Oh, sorry,” Emily said, giving her attention to Barbara.

     “Actually that answers my question,” Barbara giggled. “I asked you if it was dreadful going to a girls school, and you didn’t even hear me, too busy checking out the boys.”

     All the girls giggled and Emily smiled as she absently fingered the bunch of grapes on her tray. Suddenly she caught a flash of black and Billy was across the room. A smile started on Emily’s face and then died. Billy had his arm around a girl! Hot tears sprang into Emily’s eyes as she gazed at the girl in her tight black outfit and too much make-up. Emily’s cheeks went hot and she gasped.

     “Emily dear, what’s wrong?” Barbara asked and Emily faked a sneeze.

     “Allergies,” she muttered, wiping her eyes. Thankfully the girls believed the fib. Her stomach writhed as she watched Billy and his greaser girl sit at a table on the far end of the cafeteria. She felt like a fool. Stay with him? Why had he even asked her? Why had he kissed her! Emily suddenly felt anger rise up in her and she quickly began cramming grapes into her mouth to keep from screaming. The girls around her twittered on, sounding like old ladies in a sewing circle and Emily longed for an iPod and earbuds to drown out the chatter. She suddenly missed her friends from the present. Amanda would have taken one look at Emily’s face and dragged her into the bathroom, demanding to know what was wrong but these girls were clueless. Emily suddenly felt very alone, without her besties surrounding her in her time of boy disaster.

     Billy’s eyes met hers from across the room and he winked. The wink brought heat to her cheeks again and she plastered a look of nonchalance on her face and averted her gaze, not wanting him to see her consternation. She joined in with the laughter at her table to make him think she was having a great time. Jerk, she thought as she stabbed the mystery meat on her tray.

     Later as Emily walked home from school, her arms desolately clutching her books, she heard her name being called. “Ergh,” she growled, straightening her shoulders and picking up her pace. She heard Billy’s footsteps draw nearer as he jogged up by her side.

     “hey,” he breathed, winded from his short jog.

     “You should stop smoking, you sound like an old man,” Emily spat. “Or do you do that to keep up appearances too?”

     “Whoa baby, hang on,” Billy began.

     “Ha! Don’t ‘baby’ me. Run along little greaser, your people must miss you.” She picked up her pace even more, wishing a friend would drive up in a car and rescue her. But she had no friends with cars. She couldn’t even hope her cell phone would ring; it didn’t exist.

     “You smell like lilies,” Billy said, as though Emily had been talking about the weather. She stopped and stared at him, repeating the scene from yesterday. “It’s a good smell; I like it.”

     “I smell like lilies. I smell like lilies? That’s all you have to say?”

     “Yeah, it’s groovy,” he said, his eyes twinkling, a half smile showing off a dimple in his cheek she hadn’t noticed before.

     “Whatever,” she said, beginning to walk briskly again.

     “Thought any more about staying? Is that why you’re all fiery? Falling in love with me but miss your cell phone?”

     “Leave me alone!” Emily shrieked and began jogging away from him. He did not follow.

To be continued…

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50’s teen romance continuation, or not? Who knows…

This week’s winning number was two. Here’s the sequence page.

So…will I continue the last story or will a knew idea strike? Who knows…find out Sunday!

Here are this week’s submissions:

1. Amanda – A speakeasy, a flapper dress, a piano

2. Lisa – Grapes, sneeze, lillies

3. Carin – A TV remote, a telephone, a shoe

4. L^2 – Toothpaste, a marble, sunshine

5. Pattib – oak leaf, sunshine, mist

6. Hobbes Dogs – A tower, a photo album, and a plastic bag

7. Jen and Bil – Worms, Vira Bradly, hamburgers

8. Steve – Cookies, a bottle, an exercise ball

9. Maddie – iPhone, Laptop, Car

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Aye your sparks matey!

Ok time for more sparks. Just leave them in the comments on this post. Hopefully I’m back on schedule and will pick the number Friday and post Sunday. Knock on wood? God willing? Maybe?

I’ve just been vegging out to ‘Friends’ today. Definitely in recovery mode this week. We’re not getting hit nearly as bad as most of the country, but we had a major weather change so add that to the emotional wreckage of last week and can we say holy ow Batman?

Recovery week progressing well and hopefully I’ll be back up to full steam before long. Refining a short story this morning helped tremendously.

So, leave your sparks if you wish. Remember, those who aren’t picked are going into a pool to be used at a later date, so you just never know when your ideas will spark something for me.

Countdown to baseball is on…pitchers and catchers report in about two weeks! Yay!

Oh, Jayden went so nuts during a game of hide and seek this afternoon that I thought he hurt himself when he suddenly stopped. Everything seems fine though. Gonna try and get out tomorrow since it’s apparent he’s got some major pent up energy. Poor guy, he’s so patient with me.!

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Filed under baseball, Jayden, short story challenge, spoons, weather

SSC3 – “Socks” – Fiction – 1,000 wds

Sparks from Maddie: Music, teenager, soccer

‘Socks” – by Ro

     When she agreed to participate in the time exchange program, Emily so hoped it would be a cool decade like the twenties. She dreamed of wearing a flapper dress and swing dancing in a speakeasy with a dark and mysterious man, sneaking into places she was not supposed to be as a teenager. When she found out she’d be going back to 1953, she was crestfallen. Doo Wop music and sock hops?

     She wondered what kind of person she would find and convince to come back to the present with her. It was a tough job, explaining the technology of now to someone in the past and she was selected because of her ability to charm people and explain things in a way that didn’t totally freak them out. She wanted to find a boy to bring back with her. What sixteen year old girl doesn’t want to find a boy? Boys were all she thought about aside from soccer anyway. She just hoped she could find a good one; watching television shows set in the fifties didn’t give her much hope. She dreaded walking around in saddle shoes and saying swell all the time.

     On the first day of classes in 1953 after saying goodbye to the chaperones playing her parents, Emily walked to school in a pink poodle skirt and white sweater, her blond hair tied in a high Barbie style ponytail with a pink ribbon. She plastered a fake sweet smile on her face as she walked into the crowded halls. Girls approached her, fawning over her skirt, asking where she was from. Her rehearsed story flooded out of her mouth with exaggerated giggles and lots of, “yes, it’s swell to be here” and “golly, I like your hair”. She inwardly rolled her eyes at the way the girls talked and how the boys looked in their sweaters and neatly styled hair. She decided she’d just find someone quickly, knock them out if she had to so she could get back to the present and return to the soccer field.

     Then she saw him. Leaning cooly against a locker, his black hair slicked back and shiny, matching his tight black t-shirt. He chewed a toothpick and stared at her, while similarly dressed boys goofed off around him. Oh God, thought Emily. This is just like ‘Grease’! She gave him a shy smile and raised her left eyebrow ever so slightly. The corners of his mouth twitched in return and he punched the boy nearest him, nodding his head in Emily’s direction as she passed, her eyes locked on his. The other boys settled down and leaned, putting on their cool faces as she strode by. Emily gave them all a wink and wanted to stop and talk, but girls who looked like her back in the fifties didn’t talk to boys who looked like them. She resolutely promised herself to find a way.

     The time came that afternoon and she didn’t even have to work on it. He came to her as she walked home from school. Suddenly he was by her side saying hello. She shot a winning smile at him as he said his name was Billy.

     “You’re from the future, aren’t you,” he stated after she told him her name. Emily stopped dead in the middle of the tree lined sidewalk and gaped at him. “Your socks, little pink Nike swoosh?” He clicked his tongue at her, shaking his head.

     Her stomach flipped. Everyone she knew wore some symbol of the present when they did time exchange. It was a popular trick, make people of the past think it was something cool from another city. She stared at him in shocked silence. How did he know what the Nike swoosh was?

     “Me too,” he said laughing. “Only I chose to stay. Don’t look at me like that, you can stay you know. It’s kinda cool to be part of the past knowing what the future holds.” He reached out and placed a finger gently under her chin, closing her mouth. His touch sent a shiver down her spine.

     “How do you,” she stammered, losing words.

     “Go from town to town telling a bad family sob story, find someone to take me in, it’s easy.”

     “Why, but why?” Her voice was high pitched and squeaky with the question.

     “I got nothing’ to go back to. My bad family story isn’t a lie, it’s just a lie in this time period, you know? Wanna stay with me? Hop a train?” he winked at her and her heart fluttered.

     Perfect, she thought. She was falling for a boy who wouldn’t go back with her. This had not been in the plan. They stopped next to a park and Billy gestured toward the swings. She followed him and sat down hard, not moving. Billy began swinging jovially, laughing at her look of incredulity. She began to question him at length about what it was like to stay, finding the idea somewhat appealing especially when he talked about the freedom from cell phones and laptops.

     “If you’re not home, you’re just not home. You’re not tied to anything. There’s no hours and hours spent on computers, your butt going numb looking up stupid useless videos. It’s freedom from technology here and if I live long enough, I’ll get to see it all start, you know? Life is easier here, when you know what the future is like.”

     She nodded, understanding how awesome that would be. The thought of living forever without a cell phone was scary and enticing at the same time. And Billy was gorgeous!

     They sat in the swings not moving, Billy gazing at her. He took the chain of her swing and pulled her close to him. “Think about it,” he said, his fingers suddenly caressing the back of her neck and her heart pounded under his stare as he gently kissed her, sending jolts of electricity all the way down to the Nike swooshes on her socks.

To be continued…

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The latest winning Sparks

I think writing might help so I’m picking the objects today. Not giving myself a deadline for this story but I do want to do the end of the month bonus story so we’ll see how this all goes. Just not gonna stress over it, but I think I need to write.

So, the objects from last week were:

1. Hobbes Dogs – A speed bump, a battery, a baseball

2. Carin – a cookie, a doorknob, a broom

3. Maddie – Music, Teenager, Soccer

4. Pattib – snowstorm, penny-jar, Grandfather clock

5. Steve – An apple, a Rubik’s Cube, a shovel

6. Jen and Bil – turtle, leash, spanish book

7. Amanda – A Bond girl, special brownies, Gibson Les Paul guitar

8. Katrin – transaction ticket, scissors, wireless modem
So, entering in numbers one and eight at the random sequence generator, the top number in the sequence was three. Here’s the results page, for proof haha.
So, a story about music involving a teenager and soccer. A young adult story? Hmmm. Ok, ideas, get marinating.

Non selected sparks will go into the pool for the end of the month story which Amanda suggested in comments that I maybe do a continuing story each month. I’m playing around with that idea. I’ll probably start that one next, so just keep your eyes open for the next call for Sparks. Not sure when it’ll be.

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