randylynne

Thanks so much. This was the first creative writing I've done in several years. I'm excited to find writing friends and challenges here, where I've already found such support with the drawing. I'll have something up shortly.

ladyhwin

Congratulations randylynne... loved your story too

mum23

marg... glad you can't delete. Not sameish at all... there were elements, to be sure, but I thought you were weaving them into your story to be clever and am still not entirely convinced that wasn't the case...

morshy, I'm glad you came back with another one. A touching story... sadly, very much a true story for many.

Thanks to everyone who participated in the challenge. I enjoyed reading all the entries and, as always, found it fascinating to see the different directions that were taken with the word list.

randylynne, I'd like to pass the torch on to you. Your story, though it described an everyday scene , was written in such an engaging way that I found that it stayed with me long after I'd read it. Congratulations!

morshy

Second attempt. All words used, and word count correct as well.

He wondered what was for breakfast. He hoped waffles, but felt certain Marge would have made him a bowl of oatmeal. And no chance of jelly on top either. What the docs had said was just so much hogwash. He felt fit as a fiddle. The children, and grandchildren…and now he came to think about it GREAT grandchildren had grown up and flown the coup. He’d worked hard, and provided for Marge and the kids, and now they were in their dotage, he just wanted to enjoy life. He still blushed when he remembered how he’d met Marge, their first rendezvous. He was chuckling a little when he entered the kitchen, and noticed something amiss. At first, he couldn’t put his finger on it, just something…wrong. And then it hit him with a jolt: The kitchen was silent and cold. No coffee on the stove, no bacon on the griddle, no bread toasting, and most importantly, no Marge. He sat down heavily, confused and vulnerable. Where was Marge…had something happened to one of the kids while he was asleep…? No, that was silly, Marge would have woken him. Should he call the hospital…the hospital? It came back to him, slowly at first, but with a gathering momentum that frightened him. Marge had been taken from him. It was almost as if one day she was there, and the next she wasn’t. And that seemed to hasten the onset of his own “dark times”. He didn’t like when the doctor called it dementia. He recalled the vulpine look in the doctor’s eyes when he’d suggested he check into the assisted living facility. But he’d insisted on his independence. Marge wouldn’t want him seeing out his days in some dusty, living mausoleum. But it was getting harder. More and more frequently he would find himself at the bus stop or the train station without the fares, and more importantly without any notion of why he was there or where he was going. Sometimes it was just too much. He took a deep breath and stood up. He looked around the kitchen, Marge’s domain. There were things to do, and he had a bus to catch.

marg

LOL.. just realised how 'sameish' what I wrote was, but I can't delete it !

Good luck with getting some more entries for your challenging word list - I think lots of people must be on late holidays or the 'vulpine' has thrown them - but you've already had some really great contributions, so it will no doubt be hard for you to select a winner, anyway.