Little Sally, face upturned, stuck out her tongue.
“Mom! I got a snowdrop in my mouth.”
“You mean a snowflake, Sally. That’s what they’re called when it’s snowing, flakes. Now come inside, it’s freezing outside. And, shut the door!”
“Well this must have melted because it’s a drop now.”
Little Sally runs out across the front lawn, twisting and turning, tongue skyward to catch more snowdrops. Mother, not happy, starts to follow. Grandma’s wellies, way too big for her, she slips out falls in the snow and hits her elbow. Mother’s closing in fast.
Sally decides she better start crying.
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WORDLE #166 @ MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie
This week’s Wordle listed 13 words to use in a story. I managed to use 4 words in this 100 word story. Little Sally is always 100 words.
Little Sally has stepped into it now. As those two words escaped her lips she froze. Afraid to look at Mother, she pretended to be busy fixing her doll’s hair, knowing full well the boom was coming. That’s what Grandma called it, ‘Lowering the Boom’. Little Sally didn’t know what the boom was, but it wasn’t good. She had had quite a few time-outs after hearing that.
Mother said, “I think I will fix parsnips tonight.” Little Sally hated parsnips.
In a small voice she said, “I’m sorry Mother.”
Mother just looked at her. Worse than a spanking.
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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie… Sunday Writing Prompt: “Shut Up”
“Sally! I’m going to paddle your bare bottom if you don’t play fair.”
Little Sally rolled her eyes, which put Mother into even more of a tizzy.
“Don’t you put on an air with me, Sally, give Bobby back that pear right now.”
Bobby and Little Sally had been playing Fruit Stack when Mother saw her sneak one of Bobby’s game pieces.
Little Sally muttered something under her breath like “Such a flair for the dramatic, don’t be so square.”
Bobby heard her and his eyes bugged out big time.
Mother heard her too. “Fruit Stack is over, young lady!!!”
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Here was the challenge posed by weejars
I am not a
poet rhymer, but her words caught my attention, so I hope that Sarah does not mind if I used her words to write a story instead.
Little Sally wanted a doll house in the worst way. But she knew what mother would say.
“No!” That’s what mother would say. “You have enough stuff cluttering up your room, Sally. I don’t think you would last five minutes playing with a doll house.”
Maybe Mother was right, but Little Sally still wanted one. She had seen a beaut at The Toy Box, it even lit up and it wasn’t that big, she decided to enlist Grandma.
“When you were little did you ever have a doll house?”
“Oh yes, dear, I did.”
“I would love one for Christmas.”
(where there is a will, Little Sally finds a way)
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie ~ Photo Challenge #292
I knew the moment I saw this fabulous photo by Oleg Oprisco that I had to write a story. 100 words of course. Check out the other stories at MM, maybe write one yourself.
“What do you think about this for a start to my story, ‘The raging winds’?”
“Hmmm, seems familiar.”
“Okay, I’ll go in a different direction, ‘The wise owl’.”
“What exactly are you writing? That’s not exactly that original.”
“A piece demonstrating personification in literature. I think I’ll do ‘The warm and comforting fire’.”
“Uh, this wouldn’t happen to be for Weejars by any chance? You know, I follow Mindlovemiserie’s Menagerie also?”
“Gee, I wonder if that was what was influencing me? Like one of those spirit hands guiding me.”
“Right. Let’s try a little experiment. Here’s a pencil and notebook, no computers. Now write something.”
As he began the test, all words and ideas fled from his mind.
For Weejars’ Saturday Mix @ Mindlovemiserie’s Menagerie
Our challenge is all about the use of personification in our writing. You will need to use the statement provided in your response – which can be poetry or prose… ‘As he began the test, all words and ideas fled from his mind.’
“Bits-and-Pieces!” Little Sally was perplexed, Granny always said ‘bits-an-pieces’ when she was bothered and it made her feel close to her grandmother by saying ‘bits-an-pieces’. It was her new thing. What had Little Sally in such a dither was that her new bow would not stay in her hair, she needed her bow. She would be playing and all of a sudden it would be in her face flopping around. It was pretty, pink with yellow spots, Sally’s favorite colors. She liked pink and yellow for everything, except chickenpox. Her brother had had chickenpox and he did not look good pink and yellow. Little Sally had been bundled off to Granny’s soon as that happened, but she remembered how icky he looked and hoped she would never be chickenpoxed.
As Sally was sticking her bow back on her head she got creamy filling from the Twinkie she was eating all over and now it was in her hair. “Bits-an-pieces!” Mother did not like Little Sally eating anything fun. She was fond of saying, you are what you eat. Sally didn’t quite know what that meant, but knew she would rather be sweet than something like artichoke, broccoli or, God forbid, liver and onions.
Mother looked at Little Sally a little more suspiciously than Sally would have liked, but didn’t say anything as Sally traipsed through the kitchen on her way to the backyard to play. Mother’s raised eyebrow was enough. At least the bow was now firmly stuck in place.
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The separation had been easy for Little Sally, as she watched the two halves of the worm wiggle under her surveillance.
“Wash your hands! I don’t want that feral grunge giving you the chills”, called out Mother. “I mean it, Sally!”
She always though Mother was full of hogwash when it came to science experiments; gurgling with glee watching the wiggling, Little Sally was blissfully unaware of upcoming consequences as she stuck a wedge of Stilton cheese into her mouth. For Mother was heading towards her to enforce the hand washing policy with the business end of a wooden spoon.
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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie… This week Yves has challenged us to write a story using these words:
(image of earthworm by BIOLOGY JUNCTION)
She was in a capricious mood while eating her Cap’n Crunch when the catastrophe occurred, making her feel lower than dirt and wanting to shrink into the woodwork. She had been banging her spoon on the bowl, and told to stop with fulgurant eyes from Mother’s rigid face she didn’t. Then, with a mighty blow causing her bowl to flip, her capacity for annoyance had reached a new level.
Mother made Little Sally wash down the table and all of the fiberglass seats before going out to play.
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie… This week Yves has challenged us to write a story using these words:
12. Fulgurant- flashing like lightning
“Boy, old man Dietz is fit to be tied.”
“What’d Tonya do now?”
“How’d ya know it’s Tonya.”
“Who else would it be? She really knows how to get his goat.”
“Is it serious?”
“Maybe, you should have seen him, he was red as a beet.”
“Well, what the hell did she do, Mark?”
“Called him ‘Darling’.”
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus, she calls everyone ‘darling’ or ‘hon’. She worked at a truck stop in Ohio once.”
“Well he doesn’t know that. Hey, I know, Kate, why don’t you call him ‘Hon”. Then when he starts to flip out, you tell him it’s just a friendly term like ‘Darling’ and doesn’t mean anything.”
“Maybe, if you call him ‘Dude’ first.
“Dietz! Are you crazy?”
“My point exactly. Tonya’s a big girl, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she can bring him a slice of cherry pie.”
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Thanks to Michael at Mindlovemisery’s Managerie for the prompt.
The pen wasn’t worth anything, but Maddie pocketed it anyway.
Jerry saw her do it and didn’t do anything. Maybe if it was one of the Cross ones, but this was a Bic.
As store manager, Jerry figured he had the right to look the other way, and this kid looked like she could use a little ‘looking the other way’.
He followed her, slyly he thought, thru the office supply section and watched her pocket a notebook.
She turned and looked at him, eyes of sadness, not fear, and it looked like she was about to cry.
“Hey, it’s all right. You aren’t in trouble, I’m the boss and I won’t tell myself what you are doing.” Hoping for a laugh.
She looked from right to left. “Hey don’t run. Let’s go get some ice cream and talk about this.” Kids like ice cream, Jerry does, and his store has good ice cream.
Maddie agreed, and with a cone in one hand and her bic pen in the other she poured out her heart to him. The school has no money to give out pencils and paper and she has an English assignment due, her mother has no money, she is only nine and has no job, neither does her mother.
Jerry listened to her, asked the name of her teacher, and took her back to the office supply section, stopping to get a cart first.
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Your line for this week is: The pen wasn’t worth anything, but Maddie pocketed it anyway. That was the prompt for First Line Fridays at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. Dylan Hughes is in charge, head on over and check out the stories, maybe add one of your own.
This was interesting to write, because when I saw the line I had to use, I immediately thought of something I saw on the news the other night and the story formed instantly. That’s my kind of flash fiction. I usually write 100 words, but this one went elsewhere, and I didn’t need Ethel & Cheryl’s help this time.
I got this message from my sister Mariya after she read this story. I thought I would share it… Good story! It is so true, even in my time of public school teaching 20 years ago. I cried reading it. I cannot tell you how many supplies I purchased, including books to keep, for kids whose parents just couldn’t because they were so broke, or because the parents had other problems and the children were neglected. Many teachers do this, even on their low-paying salaries compared to the amount of responsibility and workload involved in the job.