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Posts from the ‘creative writing’ Category

The Escape Plan – Flash Fiction

The following story was written for a challengeRainbow

over at Carrot Ranch. 

February 20, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a library cat named Rainbow who escapes.

 

 

Rainbow, held captive, couldn’t take this anymore; she had to get out of this library. She’d miss the children who came in that paid attention to her but not the head librarian, who thought she was just a mouser.

Back when people used libraries to borrow books it was more interesting. Nowadays it’s children that come to take art classes.

She had a plan. She’d jump into one of the children’s bags and escape. That afternoon she saw the perfect opportunity and jumped on it only to find out she’d picked the wrong bag … the librarian’s kid’s bag.

©Susan Zutautas 2020

 

 

Found Letters – Flash Fiction

feb 13 flash fiction

 

This was written for this week’s Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch.

February 13, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes a sugar report. Use its original meaning of a letter from a sweetheart to a soldier, or invent a new use for it. Go where the prompt leads!

 

Jenny was cleaning out her mom’s house after she’d died and came across a stack of letters tied together. She was curious to find out who they were from, so she settled into a big comfy chair and was shocked as soon as she started to read them. They were from a man in the army and from the written words she could tell that he was in love with her mother and planned to marry. After putting two and two together Jenny found out that this man was her father who never returned from the war. Tears flowed.

 

 

The Great Flood

When the sun did come out.

Bill lives in a modest house on a large acreage in the beautiful state of Washington with his wife and their two dogs.

Anyone who lives in this state and loves it there and is used to the rain. One can go days upon days or even weeks without seeing any sunshine. This is the norm, especially during fall, winter, and spring. Most people will ask, “How do you live in a place that rains all the time?” Some people don’t mind it and others simply hate it and cannot live there.

This one year however in the spring the days of rain turned into weeks and then into months. Bill thought it would never end and even joked about building an ark. One had to have a sense of humor to get through this, and I must say Bill sure does.

Upon his acreage, he kept chickens and grew most of his own vegetables. Sadly, the rain had flooded out his land and ruined most of the crops. Worried about the chickens, Bill made a cozy spot in the garage, a little cramped but better than the coop that was flooded. Mornings now started at four-thirty am and Bill now had a new alarm clock system that consisted of thirty chickens clucking away wanting their breakfast.

Three months later:

 

Finally, after three long wet months, the sky cleared up and the sun came out.  Most of the roads were in bad shape. One couldn’t travel very far as most were engulfed in water.

Mount Rainier looked like it had a new lake and it appeared there was a causeway in the middle of it. There really wasn’t one, it was land that had drowned.

 

Now summertime and the lakes were filled beyond capacity.  This didn’t deter Bill from any of his projects. You see Bill also is an accomplished writer. He has written and published at least 22 books, writes on HubPages, has several blogs, does freelance work, and is a writing coach. It exhausts me just thinking about all that he accomplishes every day.

There were days after the downpours Bill and sometimes his wife Bev would take their two dogs, Maggie and Toby out for a long walk. Four times a week they would walk into town to get supplies such as food and chicken feed. Most days the dogs would have a great time running through puddles getting very wet. A few times the dogs would shake and everyone would be wet. Bill soon put an end to this by training them to shake a few feet away from him.

Before they knew it all the water from the floods had disappeared into the ground and life became hectic once again, planting as much as they possibly could for a short growing season.

In the fall Bill and Bev were able to harvest what they’d planted. Normally they’d take a good part of what they’d grown to sell at the market. This year there was only enough for the two of them to get through the winter. Still, though they were able to sell eggs every few days from the chickens which were bountiful.

That winter Bill wrote a memoir entitled “And the Blind Shall See”. Life was good!

© Susan Zutautas 2020

Available on Amazon

 

This was written for a challenge over at HubPages by Bill Holland.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://hubpages.com/literature/Billybucs-Photo-ChallengePrompt-Installment-2

After the Earthquake

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Image by Andrew Martin from Pixabay

 

After the dust had settled and the shaking had stopped Pete and Chris ventured outside to see if any damage had been done to the outside of their house.

“That was quite the rumble. What would you say it was, a 5 or 6 on the Richter scale?”, Pete asked Chris as they were looking at the huge cracks on the backside of the house.

“I’d say it was at least a six, the damage done to those bricks will have to be fixed soon. Do you know of any brick masons?”

“Well since the quake knocked out the internet and our cell phones are not working; how do we find one?” asked Pete.

Chris sighed, “Didn’t we have one of those phone books, I think it was called the … something or other pages.”

“Don’t you remember telling me to throw it out? You said it was useless. It might have come in handy to find addresses right now and maybe even a person that could repair the bricks. It was probably the last book on earth!” Pete said with sarcasm.

© Susan Zutautas 2020

 

This short story was written for a challenge over at Reena’s called Reena’s Exploration Challenge. 

 

 

Finish the Story — Andrei and Eartha

Eartha

Andrei and Eartha

Fandango, tagged me for the latest Finish the Story prompt. The rules for this challenge are simple.

* Copy and paste the story as you receive it.
* Add the next segment or choose to finish it.
* Tag someone for the next installment.
* Have fun and let your imagination roam free.

Here’s how it started:

It all started with a hastily written, albeit vague, note left in an old book.

“To the one I love,
Meet me at our spot.”

Andrei browsed the shelves at Jim’s Used Books, not looking for anything in particular when he spotted a gray and silver spine. Huh. He pulled out the book, tracing the strangely familiar symbol on its cover. No title? No author? Lemon and a hint of peppermint floated in the air as he opened the book.

A small piece of paper floated gently to the floor and caught his attention. A simple handwritten note on tanning paper. His fingers tingled as he picked it up and read it. Without giving the book a second thought, he placed it back on the shelf, tucked the note into his jacket pocket and left the store.

***

Eartha had just settled into the booth at Phil’s Cafe, plugged in her laptop, and opened her latest manuscript draft. There was nowhere better to write a contemporary story than the corner of a busy cafe in the University district. So many snippets of passing conversations ended up in her stories without anyone knowing.

She giggled as a young couple argued over whether pineapple belonged on pizza, and another pair of young men, probably football fans by their non-player jerseys, debated the finer points of surviving a bullet hell.

Jasper brought over her order and smiled. “Someone left this the other day and I asked Phil if I could give it to you since no one claimed it.” He pulled a small, red leather journal with a heart pressed into its cover out of his apron pouch, smiling.

“Really?” She beamed. “Thanks.”

He grinned, nodded, and returned to his work.

She examined the journal and paused before opening it. “What if it’s like personal? That poor person.” Okay. If it is personal, I’m going to find the person who lost it and return it.

As she opened the front cover, a small piece of paper flitted into her lap. Giggling, she picked it up and read the pristine handwriting. Fancy script from long ago. Her smile faded as she tucked the journal into her bag, unplugged the laptop, put it away, and left her untouched pizza on the table with a ten-dollar bill.

***

Andre wandered to the nearest rail line and stood by the long row of windows that overlooked the tracks. Lemon, peppermint, and pineapple tickled his nose. He glanced up and saw a beautiful young lady walking toward him. She paused at the other end of the hall and gazed out across the tracks.

His heart fluttered and the note’s message played in his mind.

The longer he watched her, the more he felt he knew her. Compelled to speak to her, he walked toward her and …

***

… said, “Excuse me, miss, but you look awfully familiar. Have we ever met?”

Eartha looked at the man. She admitted that there was a spark of recognition, but she was unable to recall a time or place. She figured maybe she had seen him around town or perhaps at Phil’s. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I know you,” she said.

“My name is Andrei,” he said, “and I know this is going to sound crazy, but a very strange note fell out of a book I picked up at a used bookstore in town. And after reading it, I felt compelled to come here. Then, when I saw you, an overwhelming feeling that you are the reason I’m here came over me.”

Eartha turned pale upon hearing Andrei’s words. “What did the note you found in the book say?” She asked.

Andrei pulled the note out of his pocket and started to read it. “It said, ‘To the one I love.’”

Eartha interrupted Andrei and finished the note, “‘Meet me at our spot,’ right?”

“How did you know that?” Andrei asked.

“I found the same note in a journal that someone handed to me this morning,” Eartha said, showing the note to him. “And like you, I felt the need to come here to this rail station.”

Andrei gazed at the note. “You found this in a journal? May I see it?”

Eartha opened her bag and handed the small, red leather journal with a heart pressed into its cover to Andrei. “Oh my God,” Andrei said as tears started flowing down his cheeks.

***

“Are you alright? This journal must belong to someone you know,” said Eartha.

It took a few minutes for Andrei to calm himself and when he did, he gave Eartha the biggest hug possible. “Let’s go sit down, have a coffee and I’ll explain everything to you. Only if you have time that is.”

“Yes, I have time and I’m always up for a good story. There’s a little coffee shop around the corner if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure, and by the way, I’m Andrei,” as he extended his hand to her.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Eartha.”

Once in the coffee shop seated across from each other, Eartha began the conversation with, “so tell me, who does the journal belong to?” She couldn’t wait to hear what Andrei had to say.

“About twenty-five years ago when I was in the Navy we were stationed in Italy. It was our last night before returning home and the crew and I were in a little bar celebrating. I happened to be looking at the entrance door and …

***

I’m tagging Susi over at I Write Her in hopes that she’ll continue on with this story.

 

 

Plans Change

Flash Fiction about a postal carrier and the heart felt for his customers.

Read more

No Sense Nonsense

This was written for Tale Weaver #252.

This week is a nonsense week and your task is to make up a story/poem in which you explore what you think the word means.

There is no ‘right’ answer but rather an exercise in using your creativity to create a believable tale.

images-nonsense

 

In my province,

     there’s lots of nonsense

Premier Doug Ford

    must have been bored

    When he announced

    Beer at a discount

A buck- a- beer

    isn’t too dear

He promised tax relief

   Vote for me, I’ll be your chief

Hydro bills lowered by 12 percent

   I’d like to know where that promise went

His plan to cut teaching positions

   Will have our schools in terrible conditions

This is all nonsense as you can see

This is what the word means to me

© Susan Zutautas 2019

 

 

 

Tall Tales Flash Fiction

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Image by Monika Schröder from Pixabay 

 

Mama, Mama, my finger hurts, cried Bobby.

Let’s have a look at it. Oh, a little splinter, we must get that out before it festers.

How?

I’ll need my tweezers and magnifying glass but first, we’ll put a little rubbing alcohol on it.

That’s gonna hurt. I think I’ll just keep the splinter.

If we don’t get it out of there it will travel through your body.

Bobby giggles.

Once in your bloodstream, it will travel to your heart and kill you.

Bobby gasps.

Years later, when he was a doctor he’d smile whenever he thought of that splinter.

 

© Susan Zutautas 2019

 

 

The Hound

This was written for a Six Sentence Story challenge over at Denise’s.

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Come back here and link your post…
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers 🙂

PROMPT WORD:  POUND

dog-1453928_1280

Image by GraphicMama-team from Pixabay

 

I heard a sound

I looked around

Guess what I found

Yes, a hound

Sitting proudly upon a mound

I sat beside him on the ground

© Susan Zutautas 2019

 

 

Meg and Ian Flash Fiction

Flash Nov 21

 

Meg, in a daze, was reminiscing about the first time Ian said, “I love you,” She got butterflies, felt intoxicated, and for the first time in her life without a doubt knew he was the one.

Not being able to sleep Meg got up, put on coffee, and ran a hot bath for herself. In ten hours, her life was about to change. Passionate love filled her heart.

Getting dressed, Meg heard her father’s voice and then a light tap at the door. “Come on Hun, I need to get you to the church on time. Are you ready?”

 

© Susan Zutautas 2019

 

This was written for November 21st’s Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch.  In 99 words (no more, no less), write a romance.