Friday Five with @meganslayer #writing #writingprompt #shortstory

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This week’s words are: proper, brand, husband, pigeon, offend. Here we go!

Let’s see what happened to Molly #whereismolly

Willie stared at the piece of paper. She hadn’t left a proper note, but then again, nothing about Molly had been proper. She lived her own life, didn’t mind if she offended and answered to no one.

He read the note again.

If you’re looking for me, don’t bother, husband. I’ve gone to Florida. You won’t find me and I’m not lost.

She might not be lost and might had intended to go off on an adventure, but the frantic phone call he’d received and the panic in her voice told him something had happened. He spotted a pack of cigarettes with a pigeon icon on the front. Back in the day, she smoked, but not in the last ten years. Besides, this wasn’t her brand.

Damn it. The battery in his phone would last much longer if he kept staring at the note.

The last words from her phone call echoed in his ears.

I need your help. He…you know…please…Willie…

That kind of panic couldn’t be faked. She’d been scared witless. He decided then and there, he’d find her. No matter what.

Friday Five with @meganslayer #writing #writingprompt #shortstory

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This week’s words are: increase, retire, dairy, hiccup, verdict. I’ve got them below and Willie’s back. #whereismolly

Willie dug the tin from the earth. He swore he felt his blood pressure increase as he swiped the dirt away. He’d said he’d retire. Said he’d be done by now. Then Molly…

He held the tin, but dropped to his knees. “Molly?” He opened the tin and the contents of his stomach lurched. Damn. He wished he hadn’t had dairy before coming out on this search. He hated the taste of milk the second time around.

His flashlight flickered and rain trickled down his face. He held the tin in one hand and the flashlight in the other. “Work, damn you.” He whacked the flashlight on his thigh, hoping the dwindling light was a mere hiccup and not the end of the battery life.

The light faded and dowsed, leaving him in the dark of the rainy night. He shoved the defunct flashlight into his jacket pocket and focused on the tin. He wiped the dirt from the lid and picked at the edge. The tin would give him answers. It had to–not that it could talk. He worked the tin open, then fumbled in his other pocket for his phone. There was a flashlight on the device. He’d probably ruin the phone in the rain, but he needed the light.

“And the verdict is…” he mumbled. He swiped until he turned on the flashlight and looked in the tin. “Molly, don’t do this to me now.” He stared at the piece of paper. Not the answer he wanted. Damn.

Friday Five with @meganslayer #writing #shortstory #spooky #writingprompt

I’m a little late to the party this week. Life got in the way, but that happens. Want to join in? Then go to long and short reviews and do just that!

This weeks’ words are: long, tin, party, witch, earthquake. Here we go!

Willie hated the dark. Always had. Bad things happened in the dark. Maybe it stemmed from his childhood trauma with the earthquake. The house shifted and moved in the middle of the night. When he woke, he realized he teetered on his bed, which would’ve ended up in the basement–had he moved the wrong way. Ever since, he hated long, dark nights and the uncertainty of being in the dark.

At least there weren’t any earthquakes expected tonight. But damn. This search party of one wasn’t his best idea. He should’ve asked for help, but Molly needed him–earthquake, dark night, or not.

It wasn’t exactly warm, either. Colder than a witch’s elbow, his grandmother would say. But his grandmother hadn’t met Molly.

Where was she?

He spotted something shiny, then kicked at the object. The tin. Holy hell. He’d found her.

“Molly?” He opened the tin and held his breath. If she wanted to see him, then she’d show. If not, he’d be screwed.

A figure appeared in the distance. He exhaled and dropped the dying flashlight.


Friday Five with @meganslayer #writingprompt #writing #fridayfive

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Here are this week’s words: Hell, railroad, chief, abridge, past. Let’s see how this goes!

The road to hell had to be not a road, but a railroad. Willie swore up and down the scariest way to get to hell had to be a railroad in the dark. It never ended and always led not only to the future, but the past. He’d never be able to forget the mistakes he’d made as a teen, but why forget when those mistakes taught him lessons? He continued along the darkened railway line with his flashlight as his only source of illumination. This was how scary movies started. A man alone in the railroad tracks in the dark. How much longer until the batteries in his flashlight gave out? He had no idea. But he was sure if he kept looking, he could abridge the search for Molly. His chief purpose was to find her. He couldn’t go home until he did.


Friday Five with @meganslayer #writing #prompt #gay #gayromance #fridayfive

This week’s words are: Index, opposed, mark, suggest, depend. If you want to take part, then check out the other posts here and join in! Here goes nothing with the end of Sid and Mac’s story.

Sid scrolled through the menu on his phone and tapped one of items listed with his index finger. “Did you want me to suggest something or just order for both of us?” He still couldn’t believe he’d met up with Mac for dinner. Maybe the get together wasn’t much to Mac, but it was everything to Sid. He wanted this chance to hang out outside of the school setting.

Mac settled beside him on the sofa. “I’m not opposed to you ordering for the both of us.” He angled on the cushion to face Sid. “I’ll eat pretty much anything.”

“Are you sure?” He pointed to the pizza toppings. “What about mushrooms, onions, green peppers and pepperoni?” He wanted this evening to be perfect.

“It’s fine.” Mac took the phone from him. “I don’t care what we eat. All that matters is you and me being here tonight.”

Sid stared into Mac’s eyes. “I have a question for you, but I’m afraid to ask.”

“I’ll do my best to answer, but it depends on what you ask me.” Mac grinned. “Go for it.”

“I…” He forgot for a moment what he wanted to say. He had Mac there in his apartment, close enough to touch and kiss, yet he’d lost his nerve. Shoot. If he didn’t speak up now, he’d never do it. “You like me?”

“Is that a question or statement?” Mac laced his fingers with Sid’s. “If it’s a statement, then it’s true. If it’s a question, then yes, I do. You’ve made a mark on my heart. I like you very much and I’m glad we’re here tonight.”

“Mac?” He could’ve sworn he heard Mac say he liked him.

“Stop thinking so hard and come here.” Mac tugged him close and kissed him.

Sid’s synapses misfired and he closed his eyes. The moment he’d waited, longed and prayed for had arrived. Mac’s kiss was better than he’d imagined. He’d gotten his wish.

Mac stayed close, but broke the kiss first. “Does that answer your question better?”

“It does.” He barely recognized his voice, being so low. “I like you, too.”

“Then there we go.” Mac curled his fingers under Sid’s chin. “Here’s to the first day of the rest of our lives–together.”

“Here, here.” Sid brushed his nose along Mac’s and sighed. He’d gotten what he wanted. Despite the requirements for the staff meeting dinner, problems with his lack of mechanical skills and the rest of the problems, he’d forged a connection with Mac. He couldn’t wait to see where their relationship would go and have his happy ever after.

Friday Five with @meganslayer #writing #shortstory #gay #serialstory

Why not join in? This week’s words are rebel, bank, salon, project and net. Where do you join in? At:

Here’s my contribution:

Mac strolled down to Sid’s classroom. Mac had had one heck of a day. In his eight years of teaching, he’d never had a student steal art supplies before, let alone go full rebel and use the India ink to tattoo himself. The art wasn’t the calligraphy project Mac had in mind for his students. Once he’d caught the student with the ink and fresh artwork, he spent the remainder of the afternoon in the office. The student had been reprimanded, but so had he for not paying attention. He groaned. He’d counted the bottles, but noticed one student tossing a bottle. He should’ve gone back to retrieve the bottle to ensure it was empty, but he hadn’t been duped like this before.

Right now, he needed to see his friend and talk about anything except students.

He turned the corner to Sid’s hallway and spotted Sid just outside of his classroom. “Sid?”

Sid paused, then looked up and smiled. “Hi. I thought you’d still be in the office.” He wore a baseball cap, which wasn’t like him at all.

“Word travels fast, doesn’t it?” He joined Sid at his classroom. “Leaving?”

“No, just returned.” Sid unlocked the classroom door. “I was part of the group that took the sophomores to the vocational school.” He left the hat on and the lights off. “I’m back to collect my things.”

“You got that gig this year?” He sat on the desk directly in front of Sid’s and rested his elbows on his knees. “Are you okay? You look…tense.”

Sid sank onto his chair and fiddled with the papers before him. “I’m….it’s not as bad as it could be.”

“What?” His heart skipped a beat. He hoped Sid wasn’t going to tell him he had a boyfriend. They’d become too close and he wasn’t ready for Sid to be with someone else.

“I got a haircut yesterday. Went to the salon on 8th Street and the cut looked okay when the stylist did it last night, but after I washed it this morning and tried to comb it the way she did, it just looks awful. Everyone stared at me and I felt so foolish I went home to get my hat.” Sid bowed his head. “I don’t want to go to the bank to cash my check tonight and I really don’t want to attend the teachers’ meeting at seven. I look ridiculous.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He doubted Sid could look ridiculous, even if he’d dyed his hair pink. “It’s just you and me. I won’t laugh.”


“Would I lie to you?” He hadn’t yet and didn’t plan to.

“This feels like using the trapeze without a net.” Sid removed his hat. “Well? It’s probably flat right now.”

“It is.” Mac left the desk and rounded Sid’s. He held out his hand, then paused. “May I?”

“You’re going to fix it? Sure. You can’t do any more damage than I did.”

Mac ruffled his fingers through Sid’s hair. The cut wasn’t bad, but it was meant to be worn as a pompadour. With a little more lift, Sid would be a knockout. Mac stepped back to look at Sid. “Wow.”

“I knew it was that bad.” Sid covered his face with his hand and groaned. “I never should’ve tried something new. I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to ride along with me to the meeting tonight.”

Mac shut the classroom door, giving him and Sid some privacy. “I never said it was bad.” He knelt in front of Sid. He wanted this moment to be private. “You look great and I like it. I’d be honored to go with you to the bank or the meeting or wherever because you’re a good man and that haircut actually suits you–much as you don’t believe it.”

Sid’s lips parted and he stared at Mac.

Oh crap. He’d put his heart on the line. He hadn’t done that since Jamie. But he couldn’t gauge Sid’s response. Happy? Shocked? Upset? “Sid?”

Before Sid could answer, the someone knocked on the classroom door.

So much for a tender, but completely innocent moment…

Friday Five with @meganslayer #writingprompt #prompt #writing #shortstory

The words this week are bracket, teacher, moral, import and maze. What a variety! I’ve decided this month I want to do a continuation style story with the prompts. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I can try.

Well, here goes.

Sid stared at the bracket. He wasn’t the mechanical type. He was an art teacher. He worked with colors and shapes, not home improvement. Unfortunately, the shelving wasn’t going to put itself on the wall. He toyed with the screwdriver. The end wasn’t fitting in the screw head. He needed help.

“What’re you doing?” Mac strolled into Sid’s classroom. “Why are you staring at that screwdriver? Is it going to do something? A dance?”

“It might. I’ve got to put this shelving up since the maintenance folks are busy. I was given this screwdriver and told I could handle putting the shelving up, but the tool doesn’t fit in the screws. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Sid handed over the tool. “Help?”

He liked his conversations with Mac and hoped one day he’d have a reason to spend more time with him. The shelving and screwdriver wasn’t a great reason, but he’d take it. “I tried figuring out the instructions, but I swear a corn maze would be easier. I can’t figure this out.”

“Let me look at it.” Mac took the screwdriver. “You’ll need someone to hold the shelf up while you’re screwing.” He blushed. “I mean…”

“I knew what you meant.” He grabbed the bracket. “Why doesn’t it fit together?”

Mac appraised the screws, bracket and tool. “First, you’ve got imported brackets. That’s not bad, but the screws aren’t the right size for the bracket and they’re hex screws. This is a flathead screwdriver.”

He stared at Mac. The words made sense, but he had no idea what he’d said. “Huh?”

“The pieces won’t fit,” Mac said. “Who gave you these pieces?”

“Maintenance.” He’d wondered why the custodian laughed at him when he’d asked for the screwdriver. Now he understood.

“I’ll get the right screwdriver from my truck.” Mac paused. “Moral of the story? Don’t ask the custodians. Next time, ask me and I’ll help.”

“Okay.” He wanted to melt into the floor. He’d embarrassed himself. He’d crushed on Mac for the lion’s share of the school year and now he had a reason to spend time with him, but he looked foolish, not knowing the difference between the different types of screwdrivers.

“Did you get help?” The custodian knocked on Sid’s door. “Mac’s giving you a hand?”

“He is because he said you gave me the wrong tool.” Sid shook his head. “Why’d you do that?”

“To get you to talk to him.” The custodian frowned. “I’ve seen you watch him and that look in your eyes. He looks at you the same way. Someone had to get you together.” He shrugged. “Now you are. Don’t waste the chance.”

Sid sagged into his desk as the custodian left. What a clever man… Irritating, but clever. Sid righted his shirt and hair. He’d been given a chance to get to know Mac more and he’d take it. A thought occurred to him. Maybe the moral of the story was to look at all the facts before getting upset because there might be surprises involved.

Friday Five with @meganslayer #writing #prompt #storystarter

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This week’s words are X-ray, fire, style, fate, wire. Here we go.

He should’ve known the hand of fate would swat at him, cat-like that evening. He should’ve known that wire wouldn’t be something simple or unattached. But he’d grabbed it–just his style. He saw the wire, thought it was a vine and pulled. Was it unattached? No. The stupid wire HAD to be part of the cable lines and tangled up with other wires. What did he know about wires? What did he know about electricity? Or projectile objects… The wire moved, the sparks shot out of the empty socket, then the rake flew in the explosion and all of the sudden, his lights went out.

He sat on the gurney and groaned. Not only had the house caught fire from him yanking that wire, but now he needed an X-ray. He’d managed to impale himself with the heavy tines of the garden rake. The cable wire had been tangled up with a fallen electrical wire and now he had no house, a bloodied leg and no insurance.

Go figure.

Friday Five with @meganslayer #writing #prompt #challenge

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It’s time for the Friday Five writing prompt. This week’s words are: impound, partner, lip, knowledge and full.

Who knew I’d meet the man of my dreams and all because I wanted to get plump lips? Okay, so it sounds strange. I mean, plump lips? I might sound vain. I am, a little. I wanted to look good.

I went to the clinic because I’d heard the doctor had a great formula for full, luscious lips. All you had to do was set an appointment and show up, then he’d do the rest. There wasn’t a lot of information on what the doctor did, so I didn’t have a lot of knowledge, but I had drive. I know, you’re probably thinking this should’ve been a red flag. It was, but it wasn’t. I wanted that look so bad that I ignored common sense.

So I got there and parked, then went into the clinic. The doctor wasn’t there, but his partner was. Dr. Skolnick looked at me and asked what I was doing there. He said there was nothing wrong with me and I didn’t need filler. The more he talked to me, the more I kind of liked it. He wasn’t condescending, but honest. He managed to convince me not to get the enhancement.

When I left the office, the car next to mine had a boot on it and the police officer stood beside the fender. I asked him what was going on and was I about to be impounded, too?

When the cop met my gaze, I knew exactly who he was–Del Navarre, the guy I’d crushed on in college. He smiled. “Miss Dixie McClain, what are you doing here?’

“I thought I’d get a filler, but the doctor talked me out of it. I’m glad he did.” If he hadn’t, I ‘d still be inside and not out here talking to Del. “Why are you impounding that car?”

“I can’t discuss an open case, but suffice it to say you’re smart for leaving the clinic. Not everything is above board.” Del sighed. “I need to take care of this, but would you want to meet for coffee later?” He offered her his card. “Call me?”

“You bet I will.” I couldn’t believe it. He’d given me his number.

“I wanted to ask you out back in college, but you seemed so shy.” He winked. “Call me.”

“I will.” I climbed behind the wheel of my car and left. My heart lightened. I managed not to get my car impounded, not to get injections from a doctor who didn’t appear to be doing something legal and reconnected with Del. Life has it’s quirks, but I appreciate them.

Oh, did I mention, Del and I have been dating now for a year? It really was our second chance love!

Friday Five with @meganslayer #fridayfive #writingprompt #writing

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The words this week are version, retired, bucket, sit and shout. Here we go!!

Here’s my version of the story:

I asked the retired police dog to fetch the bucket. I mean, how hard can it be to fetch a bucket? It’s a plastic kid one that’s smaller than the dog’s snoot. So commanded him to fetch it. Instead of fetching, he decided to sit next to it. Sit! I couldn’t believe it. So, I went over to the bucket to figure out why he’d sit next to it instead of fetching. Sure enough, there was something under the bucket. Would you believe there was a human hand? I screamed and shouted to get the officer’s attention. He said this would be a good exercise for the dog. Would be fun. Would work on refreshing his skills… If I’d have known it would result in finding a hand, I would’ve refused.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.