A Onomatopoetic Conversation (A Word Prompt Fiction Story)

 I'm trying again. I posted this story here last week and two hours after I published it, it disappeared! I have no idea if the cause was something I did or something Google did. I wonder if perhaps the previous title I created (using some of the word prompt words) sounded a little smutty (not intentionally!) and perhaps Blogger flagged the post as inappropriate content (it's not!) and took it down. I've contacted them but have had no response.

Moral of this story, ALWAYS keep a copy of your work!

Anyway, I rewrote it as best I could and I am sharing it again today, using a different title. Hopefully, this time it will stay up long enough for you to read it!

I wrote this piece of fiction using word prompts. See below for more details.

An Onomatopoetic Conversation

“Sooo.” My mom crooned, in a soft persuasive murmur, “Are you going to help me?”

“Mmmmm.” This sound came out of my full mouth garbled and non-committal–I uttered it both as a platitude and a moan of pleasure. The piece of steak I was chewing was so rare I almost heard it moo before I put it in my mouth, just the way I like it. 

My mother was not placated. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!” Her tone rose to a shriek. “Egad. Were you even listening to me? Did you even hear a word I said?”

Still working on my steak, I took a big schlurppp of my wine and swallowed. I tried hard, but I couldn’t suppress the impulse to giggle at her expletives, and I let out a big guffaw.

“Hmph.” My mom’s state of annoyance came surging through the phone line. You know my car is in the shop this week. I need you to run some errands before we all congregate tomorrow.”

I asked, “Hm… What do you need me to do again?"

“Grrrphhhh. Grrr.” No one can growl quite the way my mother can. The sound of it made me jump. I accidentally dropped my fork, and it landed on the steak with a SPLAT and splattered the bloody juice all over my shirt.

“Just a minute, mom!” After listening for the barely audible clink, indicating I had switched the phone to mute, I then set it down. I walked over to where the light was coming in through the window over the kitchen sink and examined the stain on my shirt. I squirted a little dish soap on it and tried to rub it out. The friction of the fabric sounded like the whoosh of a bird’s wings when it takes off in flight.

Before unmuting my phone, I nostalgically said to myself, “onomato-PEE-AHHHHH.” Many years ago my brother and I had created this word, to describe the way our mother often used onomapeia when she spoke. Suddenly, I was looking forward to the dinner, when I would congregate with my siblings and reminisce about our childhood.

Eager to avoid the hazard of my mother’s wrath, I apologized for my lapse in listening to her earlier in the call.

I said, “Yoikes! I’m sorry I wasn’t paying proper attention to you earlier. Please tell me exactly what you need.”

“As I said, I’d like you to go to the market and pick the groceries for our family dinner. I’d also like for you to buy me a peasant skirt.”

"A peasant skirt," I squawked. "Why on earth do you need a peasant skirt?" 

Mom explained, “My women’s club meets this weekend, and we will discuss the painting Return from Market by Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin and a poem Eavan Boland wrote about it. I plan to go in costume and imitate the woman in the painting. It seems like a good way to add some zing to a meeting that could otherwise be sort of boring.

“Oh, Mom,” I said. “Where would I even find a peasant skirt? Are they even in style anymore?”

“Don’t worry, honey. I called around, and the boutique on 5th Street has just the skirt I want. You can just pay for it and pick it up.”

“Ka-ching!” I rolled my eyes at such a frivolous purchase and then immediately felt glad we weren’t on a video chat. Eye rolls always angered Mom! 

“Mom, everything in that store costs a fortune. But if you want me to, I will buy the skirt for you.”

I then told her about the bloody steak stain on my shirt, and (of course) she offered to get it out. She said I could drop the shirt off to her upon my return from the market when I delivered her the groceries. Although she was originally very irritated with me, before we hung up Mom told me to be prepared — she planned on giving me a hug and a great big smooch.

---

Two separate challenges supplied the prompts. 

To write this story, I used the prompts from both the 4/28/21 Words for Wednesday Challenge and a challenge from writer, Micheal Burg, MD (AKA Medium Michael Burg).

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The First Challenge

The Words for Wednesday weekly writing challenge prompts were provided this month by Wisewebwoman on her blog. I encourage you to go to the comments there and read the other stories writers have posted.

The prompts she supplied this week:
~ An image of a painting and two lists of words taken from a poem about the painting, written by Eavan Boland:

• Congregate, Impulse, Market, Peasant
• Wine, Surging, Light, Hazard
• “Back from Market” a painting by Chardin.

~~**~~

The second challenge: 

Michael Burg provided a list of prompts in his post, A Fun Onomatopoetic Prompt. He solicited the favorite “sounds” of other writers, then complied those in a list and challenged his readers to write a story using all of them. 

Here is his list of words:
(Spellcheck complained a lot about these! 😉)

hmph, sooo, clink, Hm…, Grrr (growl), SPLAT, Mmmmm, whoosh, 
Ka-ching!,onomato-PEE-AHHHHH, murmur, egad, Guffaw, Schlurpppp, Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!, Moo, Yoikes!, Giggle, Grrrrphhhh, zing

~~**~~

Just for fun

I added a few onomatopoeic words of my own. Did you spot them?

~~**~~

He Wasn't Standing Where He Was Supposed To Be

Word Prompt Flash Fiction.

Image by author, Susan Foster.

This piece of flash fiction was written using word prompts. See below for more details.

He Wasn't Standing Where He Was Supposed To Be

I rushed to the door and darted out from beneath the shop canopy into the street. Behind me, in hot pursuit, was the cashier. Despite his age, he was almost as fast as me, thanks to my gimpy gait. Minutes earlier, he watched me sneak a chocolate bar from the sweets aisle into my pocket. 

Like a well-oiled machine, this was all working out just as I'd planned. Earlier this morning, I stomped down hard on a rose stem from my mother's garden, making sure a thorn punctured the ball of my foot. This made me limp, causing soreness with every step. It was so important that I be viewed as a bit of a charity case. Nothing, not even pain, was too much to endure for the end result.

The cashier caught up to me, grabbed my arm, and shouted, "Show me what's in your pocket. I saw you take that chocolate bar. You can't steal stuff and expect to get away with it."

I hopped two steps and leaned against the wall of a nearby building, holding my injured foot pitifully off the ground. It throbbed intensely after running on it, so my grimace was sincere. Opening my eyes wide, I gave him a mournful look. 

"I'm sorry, Mister.  I started thinking about all that candy and it seemed like a good way to help me forget how much my foot hurts," I said. "I was just daydreaming about the taste of this chocolate bar, and I pocketed it without thinking." 

I sobbed for a minute to emphasize my point, and then continued,  "I knew right away you saw me do it and that you probably thought I was stealing, so I  - I ran. Or hobbled, anyway." I gave a loud sniff. " I don't want to go to pp-prison."

 

Just as expected, the cranky old man's expression softened.

Convinced that I had drawn things out long enough, I seized the moment. I reached into my pockets and pulled out the chocolate bar from one and a few dollars from the other. I offered it all to the cashier. 

"Here," I said, "I really did mean to pay for it. You can have my money, and I'll give you the candy bar back, too."

 

"Oh, that's all right," said the cashier. "This one's on me. But, be more careful from here on out. This sort of mistake doesn't often work out so well."

"No, sir, It certainly doesn't." 

I grinned inwardly and pictured my friend and shoplifting partner, Billy. By now, he'd be waiting for me in the back alley with bags full of candy and other stuff for each of us, stolen while I'd lured the unsuspecting cashier out of the otherwise unattended shop. 

We were so good at this.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Word prompt writing sometimes practically writes itself!

I used all of the words provided to write this story but decided not to include the image. However, after I finished writing, I realized I had been inspired subconsciously by the photo, which then helped to write my title! 

By the way, despite having concocted a rather elaborate shoplifting plan, I have never (ever) stolen anything! I'm a little nonplussed by how easily I came up with such a devious plot.

Words for Wednesday Word Prompts for the week of 4/4/21

This story was written in response to the Words for Wednesday Challenge on 4/4/21. The prompts are provided this month by Wisewebwoman on her blog. I encourage you to go to the comments there and read the other stories writers have posted.

This week, there were two lists of words and an image with a caption, all of which were taken from The Book of Longing by Leonard Cohen. Here are the prompts: 

Canopy, Thorn, Machine, Charity and/or Limp, Aisle, Nothing, Sneak

and/or 

a photo of art by Leonard Cohen (shown here), described in this book review as "A very loose self-portrait sketch is accompanied by the words, "I believe that you are standing in the place where I am supposed to be standing."

Do you see how (although completely unintentionally) the image influenced my story?

A strange coincidence

I am currently reading a book with a nearly identical title but a very different genre called The Book of Longings written by Sue Monk Kidd. So far, I am really enjoying it.

Please keep social distancing, wear a mask, wash your hands, get vaccinated, and stay healthy. 

A personal update

I was lucky enough to be vaccinated on Tuesday, and although I was pretty under the weather with flu symptoms for about 24 hours after the shot, I agree with the protagonist in my story that some discomforts are worth enduring for the end result. 

A few hours of a fever (and the embarrassment of my newsletter publishing itself without me remembering yesterday to update it from last week) is definitely better than getting COVID! Stay healthy, everyone!

Flash Fiction: A Wily Decision

 A wife takes a cue from a dog and initiates a big change.

(Image by author, Susan Foster).

This piece of flash fiction was written using word prompts. See below for more details.

A Wily Decision

The tenth of every month was the day Mr. and Mrs.Wily picked up their allotment of wine from the vineyard. They had been members of the wine club there for over ten years, and although they sometimes opened a bottle on special occasions, they had built up an impressive collection of wine in what Mr. Wily called the “wine cellar” in the basement. Really, it was just wooden shelves lining the walls, but she knew Mr. Wily liked the way it made him feel when he referred to it that way. Like they were rich, or something.

Their drive home followed an ice-covered brook. Mr. Wily rolled down the car window, letting in the chilly late afternoon air as he puffed on his cigar. Mrs. Wily felt irritated; she had told him many times the cigar smoke gave her a headache. Why couldn’t he wait to smoke it in the backyard?

Last month, when they picked up their wine, these fields were full of wheat and glistened with an ochre hue, as far as she could see. Now they were just full of stubs and brown dirt. “Not pretty at all,” she mused, in a distracted sort of way. Her main thoughts were focusing on the upcoming task of making dinner. It was Saturday, their day to eat salmon. And broccoli, a baked potato, and pudding, of course, for dessert.

The promenade just blocks from their house was lined with trees. A watchful dog sat on a porch, sniffing the air. As the car drew close, Mrs. Wily saw it leap down the steps to chase a squirrel, who was searching for nuts along the roadside. At first, the squirrel didn’t see the dog approach, and its laggard attempt to get away was almost its demise. Fortunately, it had the wisdom to know the dog couldn’t climb a tree. As soon as the squirrel reached a tree trunk, it climbed high in the branches, quick as a lightning strike.

Mrs. Wily heard the dog bark as it circled around and around the tree. She was reminded of a nursery rhyme circle game she used to teach nursery school children to play.

Here we go round the mulberry bush,
the mulbery bush, the mulberry bush,
here we go round the mulberry bush
on a cold and frosty morning.

The song was meant to teach morning routines to the wee ones, she remembered. Instead of “Here we go round the mulberry bush, the next verse would change to, “this is the way we wash our face.” Then “comb our hair, brush our teeth, put on our clothes” would be inserted in the remaining verses, ending with a final verse of Here we go round the mulberry bush.

The little ones had already learned to play the Ring Around the Rosey game, which ended with, “We all fall down.” Inevitably, while dancing in a circle to the mulberry song, some of the children would forget during which song they were supposed to fall and would drag the others down, all of them landing in a heap. Some cried, and others giggled.

“My life has been going in circles,” Mrs. Wily thought. “Just like the nursery rhyme, Mr. Wily and I have followed the same boring routine every day and every week for years. If things don’t change soon, this marriage is ready to fall down and I’ll be the one crying. I need to be more like that dog, and chase after what I want.”

“Maybe that song is the key to finally being heard,” she thought. “Lord knows, just talking and complaining hasn’t gotten me anywhere. It’s time I become as wily as my last name. I’ll borrow verses from the song and modify them.”

Thinking quickly, she began singing with her pretty soprano voice, raising it loud enough to be sure her husband heard her.

This is the way you make your wife sick, 
make your wife sick,
make your wife sick,
this is the way you make your wife sick,
ignore her and smoke in the car.

Mr. Wily glanced at her, raised his eyebrows, and snuffed out the cigar in the ashtray.

“Oh my heavens, Mr. Wily listened to me!” Then, she thought, “No! Not 'Mr. Wily.' My name is Angie and his name is Bill. No more of this silly Mr. and Mrs. Wily stuff! How did we ever end up calling each other that, anyway?” 

She kept making up verses and singing them.

This is the way we die of boredom,
die of boredom, die of boredom, 
this is the way we die of boredom,
Never doing anything new…

Isn’t it time for new hobbies, 
new hobbies, new hobbies,
isn’t it time for new hobbies
and to start using our first names?

Bill pulled into the driveway and yanked on the emergency brake. 

“Angie,” he murmured, “I never knew you felt like this. I thought I was the only one unhappy with our life.” 

He smiled ruefully and in his off-key baritone and not at all rhythmically, he sang:

Let’s stop going round the mulberry bush, 
the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush,
It’s time we listened and show love to each other,
and we need to make our lives a lot better.

They both smiled and Angie let out a small giggle. They exited the car and she held open the front door while Bill carried in the carton of wine, like always. Except for this time, he bent down and kissed her cheek as he passed her. 

She suggested he leave a bottle of chardonnay in the kitchen, so they could open it to drink with dinner.

---

Word Prompt Fiction

This story was written in response to the Words for Wednesday Challenge on 3/31/21. The prompts were provided by Hilary Melton-Butcher but posted on the website Elephant’s Child. I encourage you to go to the comments there and read the other stories writers have posted.

I used this entire list of word prompts to create this story:

Watchful, Laggard, Pudding, Mulberry, Bark,
and/or
Promenade, Vineyard, Allotment, Wisdom, Tenth, 
and/or
Life, Borrow, Wily, Ochre, Brook

Where would these words have taken your imagination?

Please keep social distancing, wear a mask, wash your hands, get vaccinated, and stay healthy!

Taking Time to Stitch a Tapestry (Word Prompt Fiction)

This piece of flash fiction was written using word prompts. See below for more details.

Taking Time to Stitch a Tapestry

The world outside was silent, blanketed by a thick layer of snow. Martha sat by the window, taking advantage of the last of the evening light. Her needle darted in and out, weaving the embroidery thread into the stiff fabric, while the peppermint aroma of her tea faded as it grew cold. She had been stitching longer than she realized. Her thoughts had wandered pleasantly while embroidering this summer scene, which centered on a sweet brown hare darting behind a flowering hedge.

Earlier, along the side of the house, she had seen a similarly sized rabbit, wearing his winter coat of white. Perhaps, she mused, when she finished this one she should embroider the same picture again, but change it to show a winter season instead of summer. Maybe she could even create a set of four tapestries with this same view and rabbit, showing all the seasons. It wouldn’t be hard to do and would add one more dimension to her catalogue of items for the sale.

"If professional artists can present some of their work as a series, why shouldn't I?" she thought. 

The hard scrunch of her husband’s footsteps through the newly fallen snow on the path beyond the window interrupted her thoughts. When the men clear-cut that swatch right up to the house she had disapproved, because she hated to see such beautiful old trees cut down. However, she now appreciated how much easier it was to get to the house from the end of the road, and how the layer of rocks (or snow) warned her when anyone approached.

With a sign, she pushed aside the tapestry and rose from her chair. It was time to get supper started. Her dream of being able to make her sewing a priority over mundane household chores would have to wait.

"Someday," Martha vowed, "I will become a full-time, self-reliant artist and leave this place."

~~~~~*~~~~~

Delores of Under the Porch Light used to offer a weekly writing prompt called Words for Wednesday, and encouraged others to use it to write something creative.  Unfortunately, Delores began to have computer issues, and could no longer provide the weekly prompts. Elephant’s Child took over for a while, and then she organized volunteers to share the responsibility.

The prompts for this week were provided by Hilary Melton-Butcher but posted on the website Elephant’s Child. (They were posted last Wednesday, but it has taken me this long to get around to writing this!) I encourage you to go to the comments there and read the other stories writers have posted. 

I used the entire list of word prompts to create this story: Silent, Tea, Summer, Scrunch, Tapestry and/or Hare, House, Catalogue, Clear-cut, Path.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Where would these words have taken your imagination?

Please keep social distancing, wear a mask, wash your hands, get vaccinated, and stay healthy!

This post contains affiliate links. The opinions expressed, however, are entirely my own.

It Started With A Glance In the Mirror (Word-Prompt Fiction)

A long time ago, I regularly participated in a word prompt challenge, as some readers here may remember.

Delores of Under the Porch Light used to offer a weekly writing prompt called Words for Wednesday, and encouraged others to use it to write something creative.  Unfortunately, Delores began to have computer issues, and could no longer provide the weekly prompts. Elephant’s Child took over for a while, and then she organized volunteers to share the responsibility.

~~~*~~~

Today, I once again participated in that challenge. The prompts for this week were provided by Hilary Melton-Butcher, but posted yesterday on the website Elephant’s Child. I encourage you to go to the comments there and read the other stories writers have posted. 

I used the entire list of word prompts to create this story: wafer, haggard, procession, juniper, drips, disdainful, stream, weed, chalk, treasure. 

Where would these words have taken your imagination?

It Started With a Glance in the Mirror

Julie stared at the mirror and sighed. Who was this haggard woman staring back at her, anyway? She needed to find a way out of the slump she’d been in ever since she left her job. “I need sunshine,” she decided.

“I know, I know,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “Getting a tan isn't good for my skin. But it will help me feel healthy and pretty. That seems like a priority right now.”

Wandering into the kitchen, Julie poured herself a cup of coffee. With no energy to make a proper breakfast, she grabbed a box of vanilla wafers from the cupboard. She placed her mug and the box on the table in the breakfast nook. She went to the front door and grabbed the newspaper from the stoop before sitting down at the table.

Munching on a wafer, she turned to the classified section of the paper and perused it. 

“Ha,” she exclaimed loudly, after a minute of reading. “This is just what I need... a job I’m sure I can do, and it’s outside work, so I will get a tan.” 

She picked up the phone and dialed the listed number.

~~~*~~~ 

Julie stared at the procession of potted plants laid out in neat rows along the hospital walkways. They expect her to plant all of those by lunchtime? 

“Oh, goodness,” she thought. “I certainly hope I don’t get fired on my first day!” 

She loaded as many of the plants as she could onto a wheeled cart and took them over to one of the soil beds near the hospital entrance. The other gardener had already tilled it. She eyeballed where the plants would look best, picked up a spade, and started digging.

~~~*~~~

Tired, but feeling accomplished, Julie was proud all the plants assigned to her were neatly in the ground. She and Sam, the other gardener, were sitting at a picnic table eating sandwiches for lunch. Julie assumed the hospital had kindly placed the table there for visitors and possibly for patients who were well enough to venture outside for a bit. She realized the garden might help brighten an otherwise dismal day for some people who came here.

A minute later, her good mood deflated as Sam told her what her tasks would be that afternoon.

“All the old juniper bushes need to be torn out. Make sure you dig up all the roots. When you finish with that, add drips to all the flowers you just planted.”

“OH, MY,” thought Julie. “Removing those bushes sounds like scratchy and backbreaking work.”

An Unexpected Surprise for Valentine's Day

I think you may be surprised by what Ryan has in store for Mindy this Valentine's day. 

It's been a while since I have written a chapter of "The Mindy Story", but I am publishing one today! As with the rest of this short story, Words for Wednesday word prompts (provided this week on the blog Elephant's Child) are woven into this chapter. 

To catch up with "The Mindy Story" so far, here are links to all the previous segments: 

Part 1, Cleaning Products Don't Work Unless You Use Them
Part 2, A Perfect Match
Part 3, Fiction, Sangria, Roasted Red Pepper Spread and a Picnic
Part 4, Stitches and an Uncomfortable Surprise
Part 5, A Banana Relapse will Require a Repair
Part 6, Capturing Fruit Flies & Wine Glasses for Two
Part 7, A Coffee Date and Cathedral Windows
Part 8, Chicken Broth and Walnuts - - Oops!
Part 9, A Mystery and a Secret
Part 10, Blue Bird - Blue Bell - - Blue Bonnet!
Part 11, Lemonade and a Pleasant Conversation
Part 12, A Photo Album, a Lunar Event and a Furry Friend
Part 13, France and a Friendship  

 When you are ready, here is Part 14  ...

Another chapter in the unpredictable life of Mindy ...

An Unexpected Surprise for Valentine's Day 

The instructions indicated that she should grease the pans. Using a piece of waxed paper, Mindy carefully smeared dabs of butter to coat the bottom and sides of each ceramic ramekin completely. 

The recipe Mindy was following was one which her cousin had posted on Facebook. Apparently whenever she serves these warm Molten Chocolate Cakes, everyone says they are exquisite.

She was hoping that Ryan would give rave reviews after his first bite of hers, but she sort of doubted that he would. Ever since his return from Paris just before Christmas, he had just seemed so ambivalent about everything. It was like a light switch had been turned off. He and Mindy were still spending a lot of time together, but it always felt like his mind was somewhere else. The energetic, enthusiastic man he used to be seemed to have been replaced by a zombie.

“The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” thought Mindy grimly, as she got out her standing mixer.  “Or, so the saying goes. Well, I’m giving it my best shot.”

Mindy had spent a lot of time planning the elaborate Valentine’s Day dinner she was making for Ryan. She felt like it was her last chance at securing a future with him. If these efforts and the bold little pink dress and stiletto heels she planned to wear tomorrow didn’t aim Cupid’s arrow directly into Ryan’s heart, she didn’t know anything that would.

The evolution of their relationship from secure and comfortable to distant and uncertain had happened practically overnight. Mindy had been sure that when Ryan had returned from Paris on December 6th, he would have with him an engagement ring and be ready with a proposal. But, both Christmas and New Year’s were now over, and no little box had magically appeared.

Crossing the kitchen to get the cocoa from the pantry, Mindy nearly tripped over the cat. Scooping up her furry pet, she softly crooned, “Oh Eiffel, if only I could be sure he loves me as much as you do.” 

Looking back, Mindy realized she had been happier during the three months Ryan had been away in Paris then during the two months since his return.  Taking cooking and dancing lessons with Barb had made the days go by quickly. She had kept the lessons a secret, hoping to knock Ryan off his feet when she demonstrated her skills; but she had told Ryan about adopting the cat. He had seemed to fully approve, and had even suggested she name him after a French monument. 

Since Christmas though, Ryan had shown no enthusiasm for her new talents or her pet. He discouraged her offers to cook French meals for him, saying they were too heavy for his taste.  He had ignored all her suggestions to go out dancing, and lately, he barely ever paid any attention to her cat. 

Eiffel had been licking a smudge of butter from Mindy’s finger with his rough tongue. With a sigh, she set him down and went to the sink to wash her hands. While she was drying them, the phone rang. Glancing at caller I.D., she smiled when she recognized Barb’s number.

“Hey you, I was just thinking about you,” said Mindy into the receiver.

“Really - well, I’ve been wondering how your fiendish scheme to tempt a marriage proposal out of Ryan is going? Have you set the table and are the cooking preparations underway? Did you remember to strain the Port-Rosemary Sauce for the beef tenderloin steaks the way we were taught? Do you plan to let him have just a bite of the lobster, and then take it away and refuse to give it back until he pops the question? Or - maybe you will just wait till he gets a whiff of those terrific chocolate cakes?” Barb giggled as she fired off these questions. Mindy appreciated how she was trying to encourage and help her to relax.

"I’m hard at work Barb. This better work. If not, I’m just not sure how long I can last with things the way they are,” said Mindy.

Mindy heard a beep. “Oh Barb, I’m sorry - I’ve gotta go. That’s Ryan on the other line.”

“Sure Mindy, I understand. I hope that boyfriend of yours has come to his senses and is calling to say he is absolutely smitten with you. Have fun tomorrow sweetie - and call me with a full report!”

Mindy laughed. She ended the call with Barb and connected with the other line, saying, “Hi Ryan, I was just on the phone with Barb, but I’m off now.  What’s up?”

Without even saying hello, Ryan abruptly began, “I know that you are planning something for tomorrow, but what I have to say can't wait. I can't celebrate Valentine's Day with you, knowing that you went behind my back while I was gone. I should have said something as soon as I found out, but I just couldn't believe that your adaptive behavior to my absence would be to start seeing other men.”

“What - ," Mindy interrupted. “Ryan, is this a joke? What a ridiculous thing to say!" 

“Hear me out!,” roared Ryan. “This is the angriest I have been in a very long time. I’ve been so mad and hurt and humiliated that I haven’t even been able to confront you until now.  I had grown to really like you - actually, I loved you Mindy - and then I find out that you betrayed me. I couldn’t believe that it was true, but now I'm convinced.  I’m sorry to do this on February 13th, but I really think it is over between us.”

“Ryan - what are you talking about? Wait …” wailed Mindy, as the phone went dead.

~~*~~

The Words for Wednesday word prompts supplied this week on Elephant's Child were:

grease, ambivalent, fiendish, exquisite, terrific, evolution

AND/OR 

tongue, adaptive, angriest, furry, bold, zombie

Why do you think Ryan is so angry? 

What will Mindy do next?

A little information about Words for Wednesday:

Words for Wednesday was a meme originally created by Delores of Under the Porch Light. She used this weekly writing prompt to encourage others to write something creative. When she could no longer continue to host it, Elephant’s Child took over for a while and then organized volunteers to share the responsibility. 

This post may be linked to one of the great link-up parties I follow and list on my blog. Check them out!

A Banana Relapse Will Require a Repair

This is Part 5 of my fiction story about Mindy, a compulsive shopper and hoarder of cleaning products.

To catch up with the story so far:

• Click here to read Part 1, Cleaning Products Don't Work Unless You Use them
• Click here to read Part 2, A Perfect Match.
• Click here to read Part 3, Fiction, Sangria, Roasted Red Pepper Spread and a Picnic
• Click here to read Part 4, Stitches and an Uncomfortable Surprise

Like the first four parts, I wrote this segment of Mindy's story using the words from the Words for Wednesday challenge, that are being published by River this month on her blog, Drifting Through Life.

When you are ready, here is Part 4 ...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Banana Relapse Will Require a Repair

Mindy groaned. “Why is it that everything about my life had to be so hard? How was I to know,” she

Stitches and an Uncomfortable Surprise

The prompts for the Words for Wednesday writing challenge have long been provided by Delores at Under the Porch Light. She recently relinquished this task, however, and the words are being supplied this month by River at Drifting Through Life. 

This is Part 4 of my story about Mindy, a compulsive shopper and hoarder of cleaning products.

 Like the first three parts, I wrote this segment of Mindy's story using the words from the Words for Wednesday challenge that was published last week. Be sure to visit River's blog today, to see the new words she has posted there this week.

To catch up with the story so far:

• Click here to read Part 1, Cleaning Products Don't Work Unless You Use them
• Click here to read Part 2, A Perfect Match.
• Click here to read Part 3, Fiction, Sangria, Roasted Red Pepper Spread and a Picnic

When you are ready, here is Part 4 ...

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Stitches and an Uncomfortable Surprise

Mindy’s battered old car skidded to a halt in her driveway. She jumped out and rushed back into her house.  

Assessing her living room as objectively as she could, Mindy felt pleased. She decided that taking a carload of stuff to her office really had widened a clear path of carpet from the front door to the kitchen. Her office was so full now, however,  there would be no way it