Embarrassing Moments

She felt the heat flood her face, without looking in the mirror she knew her checks were getting bright red.  What on earth had possessed her to say what she thought out loud?  The neighbors had been friends of theirs for years.  They had raised their children side-by-side, swapped recipes and spent many a Friday night playing cards together. 

Now, as she walked home with her head high, she wasn’t sure she would be able to face Beth again.  It’s not that she didn’t like Beth, it’s just, after all these years she had enough of her dry, crappy cake.

Aggggggggg!  I think I am starting to understand what it means to run a marathon, mile after mile of placing one foot in front of the other.  All you can do is focus on making it to the next mile marker, forging ahead with determination.

For me its day after day of coming up with a story and editing it to proper word count.  Its something I think about before I go to bed, what is the next days schedule and when will I have time?  Its something I think about when I wake up, what am I going to write about?  Its something I think about after I post, is it a good story, will people like it?

Unlike the marathon runner, my raceway isn't lined with cheering crowds shouting encouragement.  I sit at my computer and compose in quiet solitude, take a breath and hit Publish, hoping somewhere out there in the nether space of the Internet someone will take note and read my little story.

And, yet, I feel a sense of accomplishment each day as I post, a reassurance I will finish this race and make it to end.

Moonlight

In the middle of the night, when the house is quiet and peaceful, she sits looking out her window at the garden.  The moon is casting its silvery radiance on the land.

They slip out of the shadows in ones and twos, joining hands and twirling as they greet each other.

She longs to join them in their frolicking and places her hand on the pane of glass.  The leader steps forth and with a bow invites her outside.  She leaves her chair and hobbles out on the lawn where she regains her youth as she dances with the fairies.

Lake Home

The surface of the water rippled in the breeze sending glints of sunlight dancing on the surface of the lake.  Overhead the cloudless blue sky was dotted with v-shaped formations of waterfowl returning from their winter homes.  There was still a nip in the air as the last grip of winter fought to maintain its hold on the land.  Along the shore and islands, once bare trees unfurled new leaves casting a green haze of fuzz over the landscape.

The peaceful scene was broken by the excited yelp of the fisherman as he hooked his first catch of the season.

The Party Goes On

She sat at the dining room table, delicately cutting her meat.  Now, after everyone had filled his or her plate she could relax, enjoying a moment’s respite from the work of hosting. 

The day before she had spent preparing for this magnificent feast with baking pies and cutting up vegetables.  In the morning she had risen with the sun to start the turkey roasting and finish her preparations.  Her guests had arrived in singles and groups bringing covered dishes to add to the buffet.

She nodded, listening to the conversations around her, oblivious to the empty chairs at the table.  

End Of The Semester

Hurry!

The word reverberated through her mind as she scrambled to finish.  It was the last exam of the year and the one she had been dreading the most.  It wasn’t that she was unprepared.  She had spent countless hours solving the assigned problems and extra sample problems she found on-line.  She knew the material, but no matter how much she practiced it took her longer to solve each problem then the time they would have during the test.

She glanced at the clock, inhaled slowly and smiled.  She was going to finish the math final before the hour was up. 

Sacrifice

“Oh!”  She squealed in delight.  “This is the one!”

Lizzy pulled the prom dress off the clothing rack and held it up against herself.  Her mother, standing beside her, tried to maintain a neutral expression.

“I don’t know.”  Martha said, examining the price tag.  “It’s a bit, well, I just don’t know.”

Lizzy glanced at her mom.  She noticed the dark circles under her mom’s eyes, the tired droop of her shoulders. 

Martha’s eyes met her daughter’s, seeing the despondency from a lifetime of struggle in eyes too young.

“It’s perfect.  You will be the prettiest girl at the dance.”