mouse

Dragon-- WOW! I loved it What is the old adage-- " What goes around comes around " Well done

mouse

Giraffe
With a few minor changes and not affecting the story at all, you can be at 301 words. Here are my suggestions. In the first paragraph.

came to me for some advice -- eliminate " to me"
GrandPops , she said, we barely know each other -- eliminate "she said"
water under the bridge at last . -- eliminate " at last"
then use "Time-in-a-Bottle" as title--makes 301 words

Just a suggestion

giraffe

Thanks, Mouse. I think my subtext on this one is that abuse can be passed on through generations. That's a no brainer, but time-in-a-bottle added a weird persective to my warped views. lol

inked_gemini

301. No title. True story.

When in the hell did my parents get so cool?

It’s an enigma I had pondered all morning. Dad and I had been up since sunrise. Conversation was slow, so I went for a walk around the property. My folks had made some changes since I moved out. There is now an impressive tree house in the big, backyard shade tree. At eight, I thought I possessed the ability to zip-line out of that tree using some bicycle handle-bars and a dog’s leash. I broke my tail bone, and my ma still grounded me for it.

Dad had also put a slide up over the kiddie pool, so the grandkids could slide right into the water. I once made a slip-n-slide out of an old tarp and some trash bags. It was an invention that earned me seven stitches…and two weeks without television.

And back at the porch where Dad stood, watching the brats sizzle and pop on the grill…I found the bike. Emerald green. Basket. Streamers. Shiny, golden bell.

“Why didn’t you guys ever get me one of these, Dad?”

“I don’t think they had those when you were little…”

His answer didn’t soothe my ego as expected. “What about wood? Did they have wood when I was little?” I sarcastically mumbled as my thoughts trailed back to the tree mansion.

If I could keep all those childhood memories in a little container, I’d pull it out every time my parents let my kids get away with something that they would have punished me for. Sort of like time-in-a-bottle for fairness’ sake.

Naw. I take that back. They’re just being grandparents after all. I just hope I can one day stand on my own back porch with my son…as HE wonders just when in the hell I got so cool.

giraffe

Gemini, maybe you were the training wheels of parenting.

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giraffe's right, i_g. Parenting is a steep learning curve on a tight budget. By the time they graduate to grandparenthood, they have experience and knowledge under their belt ... and a bit more money in the kitty.

There are some who go to ridiculous extremes though. A dear friend of ours bought his first grandchild (still a baby) the things HE wanted as a child. The grandchild had a wheelbarrow and tricycle before she could stand, let alone walk.

Doug

gemini: Great story. Very thoughtful and truthful account of grandparent and parenting in general. I often cringe out how much "stuff" my kids have that I didn't have when I was small. Maybe it's a little payback so I can enjoy the things that we didn't get or couldn't afford back then. You story brought back a lot of memories for me, thank you.

Doug

301 including title...

Enigma

Marshall set off on the Yough trail with the hope of forgetting his troubles. He was in “hot water” at home and had to figure out how to soothe his wife’s ideas about brandishing an iron skillet and applying it to his noggin’. The sunrise this morning was spectacular with yellows and oranges blending and shining off the multitude of oak leaves flapping in the morning breeze. Emerald foliage combined with these colors and let out a torrent of beauty that Marshall had not even imagined possible. In addition, the Yough River was within eyeshot for the first four miles of the trail and the white caps set off a sparkle of their own.

After walking for nearly an hour Marshall sat amongst a stand of pines that stretched to the sky and offered him some valuable shade. He raised his water bottle and popped the lid letting a cascade of refreshment drown his thirst.

Marshall set off again after concluding that his time-in-a-bottle had passed literally and figuratively. He thought he was able to face any problem or dilemma that faced him this day. He made his way back home not trudging, but with a high step in his legs and his heart. Being one with nature and physical activity had cleared his mind and soul creating the ability to think clearly and thoughtfully. He would sit down with his wife and make her understand. An apology might even be helpful.

He finally reached his destination. His house was more a cottage with a well-kept yard. Not bad for a 76-year-old man he thought to himself. He opened the front door and stepped into his living room where his wife sat in “her”chair. He pulled up close and whispered…I’m sorry.

He didn’t mean to kill her.

mouse

Gemini
Being a parent of 5 and a grandparent of 8, I know of what you speak. I find myself at times saying to my grown kids " That's what grandma's do". I hear. " you wouldn't let us get away with that" And yes, I wouldn't have, but that is the fun of being grandma. I can break my own rules sometimes. LOL. Great story.

mouse

Doug, Yor never fail to surprise me, what an ending. Did not expect it but i should have, You have a way of twisting a tale that is unexpected. Good one.

By the way, have you ever ridden or walked the Yough Trail. I live just a mile from part of it.

giraffe

Doug, What Mouse said!!! You start really liking this bohunk of nature and end up following him to things unnatural. Great twist.

inked_gemini

For real, Doug. That was great. I actually thought it was kind of heart warming and cute. I kind of went, "Awwww," for this older gentleman who still has spats with the missus. So he goes for a walk and realizes what he has and what he has to lose.

And then I read that last sentence and was like..."Whoa..." Awesome, awesome story.

Doug

mouse: Funny you should mention the Yough trail. Part of the inspiration for that story, at least the setting, was real. We are "house searching" and I drove out into Elizabeth and this house was on a dead end street
where the Yough Trail is in the front yard and the Yough River is about 300 yards in front of the house. It is a very intriguing setting. I can imagine what it would look like in the summer and fall.
Thank you all for your kind words and giraffe that story was for you.

giraffe

Why, thank you, Doug. Such a beautiful sentiment. I'm gonna wait 'til tomorrow to kill my wife though. She still has a couple good hours in 'er.

Nylecoj

I love all the stories so far!!! And I finally finished one to add. 301 words no title


They say that when you are on the edge of death, your life flashes before you in a torrent of memories, thousands of images trapped in a single moment, time-in-a-bottle.
Kain threw his sword up, desperately warding off the rain of blows that showered down on him. His sword-arm shook and he rolled away to his right causing his enemy's blade to crash into the cobblestones.
It is a mystery why a person should get to see their life in full. Maybe it is a warning to those who live and get a second chance. Whatever the answer, it is still a puzzling enigma.
Rock shards cut Kain's face as he spun to face his foe. He had no hope, but he fought on regardless, his emerald eyes calm as he swung his sword again and again, jarring his arm with a pop every time it clashed into the blade that sought his life.
That second holds great power; to soothe the mind as it remembers quiet sunrises with people loved, or to crush it with dread remembrance of deeds that can not be undone or mended.
Kain's breath came in short rasping gasps as he dodged, not pausing to think, but moving on instinct. He licked a drop of water from his parched lips, tasting the salty sting of sweat, and the metallic tang of blood.
Whatever that second reveals, it shows a person who they are, and sinking into the shade of despair, it can change their heart, strengthen their resolve, or break their will.
His sword shattered, sending sparks in a brilliant arch, then pain erupted through his arm, and down his side as Kain fell stunned to the ground. He saw the blood-stained blade swing. He remembered. He smiled, but his eyes glinted.

Doug

Nice nylecoj...very descriptive, visual and active.."jarring his arm with a pop"..I can just feel it in my bones. (he shivers). I love stories that make you "feel". Good one.

marius

inked_gemini, 'When ... did my parents get so cool' is sheer delight. Loved how you put it together. The wish at the end brings the full circle effect so perfectly! Tee hee - sounds like you DO have cool parents and that you are a cool parent yourself!

Doug, 'Enigma,' liked this, esp the contrast with people arguing and nature helping to heal. Liked the ending except for one thing ... yes, miss picky is talking here ... found myself wanting the last line to read, "He hadn't meant to kill her." Otherwise, it kept making me think he found solace in nature and then came home and killed her which wouldn't make much sense. (Yes, I have a cold so am excused if reading it wrong. Giraffe go to your room.)

Nylecoj, amazed at your action scene, pondering of life and fighting for your life at the same time! For one, not sure I could write an action scene, and for two, bet one does move 'on instinct' during such a battle ... in which case, there probably would be mental room available to think of what came before. Really enjoyed the contrast of those two ideas. Had a friend who was in a terrible car wreck and she said it probably lasted no more than five seconds but that she remembers it (had her whole life flash before her eyes) as if it was slow-motion, as if those five seconds really lasted several hours. So ... loving how you used time in this one. : )

mouse

Nylecoj

I too, like the dramatic action. Your description of it kept me on the edge of my seat. I could see it and even hear it--Excellent

chelydra

301 words. Required ten words used in the order they were listed. The title, the subtitle, and the “PS” are not included in the 301 words, but they can be edited out if absolutely necessary. However, I left the hyphens out of “time-in-a-bottle” so it counted as four words; I hope that doesn’t disqualify.
__________________________________________________________

Facing The Void: When Everything Is Reduced To Nothingness, You May Find That Nothingness Is Really Something.

It was still an enigma, that November afternoon when all joy and hope went out of Maxine’s life, the way a blown fuse throws a bright, busy room into total blackness. She’d been fine, walking towards the supermarket in the sunlight. At the door, she froze, unable to speak or move, and had to be carried home. Nothing ever felt right since.
In psychotherapy, they tried to put that time in a bottle, to observe it from every angle, in every kind of light. After six months of thrice-weekly sessions, at $145 a pop, it was murkier than ever. With her former employer’s insurance terminated, more therapy was not an option. Food was barely an option. And this dirt-cheap off-season unheated seaside shack had to be vacated soon.
Another numb, sleepless night dragged on. Now what? Now nothing. Time to face the Void. A predawn birdsong seconded her idea, and reminded her that the Void is best faced outdoors, especially during a May sunrise. And where better than at the ocean — at the world’s edge?
Getting up and out was a struggle, but then inhaling the springtime nocturne put a spring in her step. The sky, still very dark, had a supernatural emerald glow emanating from within. Within? What’s within the sky? Space, and then the edge of space, and of time; from the radiant Void itself cometh yonder mystic luminescence, thought Maxine as she stepped into the sand. But now the sky was pearly-gray. And the water, a slab of coal a moment ago, became the glowing emerald.
Wow! said Maxine. The Void is apparently not only Beyond All, but also Within All. This revelation shall soothe my troubled mind and fill my empty heart, as I eat rabbits and berries and sleep in the shade of a friendly oak.
And it goes without saying that Maxine lived happily ever after. (Because it goes without saying, it doesn’t enter into the word count, which was exactly 301 after the friendly oak.)

chelydra

Hell I left out ability!
Maybe I'll send in a revised version before the deadline. Or maybe not.
Thanks for setting this up. Nice change of pace.