This post is written in response to RONOVAN’S WEEKLY HAIKU CHALLENGE.
The Laughter Of Flowers
b y J. Lillie
The might of winter
Gives way to the slight of spring,
Laughter of flowers
The Laughter Of Flowers
Category Archives: The Stories
Just Call Me “Smoky”
It’s time for THE WRITING CHALLENGE #FUN20119.
Check out the link for the rules and a list of the stories.
Here is mine:
Just Call Me “Smoky”
by J. Lillie
Z ear tuned his six string one more time. His nerves jangled like his mother’s dinner triangle at 5 P.M.
A piece of his heart wished for the simplicity of those days on the farm with his four brothers and three sisters. Life had been hard. The house had no running water and they heated with wood. The farm work was back breaking, but there had always been time for music and family and God.
Each night after the chores were done and supper was eaten, Momma would gather all the family around her rocker by the wood stove. She would read a chapter from the Bible Daddy had preached from and then she would have Z play his guitar and lead them in a hymn. After that they would sing the songs of the hills, the ones Momma had known since she was a little girl. They would sing until the moon rose high in the sky and the little ones dozed off by the hearth. Z always believed it was his father’s voice that sang through his mouth on those nights, not his own. It was all Z had left of the man who gave him life before losing his own.
Those nights with the family had prepared Z for his big break. They had birthed the story that would launch him to the stars and they had disciplined the talent his father had given him as a parting gift before dying two days before Z was born.
Zeruiah Teague had been discovered one Sunday in church by a Nashville promoter who was visiting his cousin in Robbinsville. It had been a banner day, a day that raised Z’s whole family out of the abject poverty they had always known. But Z had traded something that day when he became a star. He still thought of himself as “Z” but no one called him that anymore. Even Momma had given up using his given name or his nick name.
“Mr. Teague? We are at places in five.” The stage manager popped her head in the door to say.
Z smiled back at the pretty woman and replied, “Not Mr. Teague. Just call me Smoky.”
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Friday Fictioneers 5-1-20
It is time for Friday Fictioneers for the week.
This is the challenge where flash fiction writers create a 100 word story from a prompt supplied by Rochelle our hostess. Check it out by clicking the link above.
Here is the prompt and my story:
Lost In White
by J. Lillie
Hugh stood with his mother and his mother-in-law in the empty dining room. It was the first day they were actually related and it was the last.
“I blame you.” His mother-in-law said.
“You have got to be kidding!” Hugh’s mother spat out, “Hugh was the one your daughter left at the altar.”
Hugh looked back at the toile-draped arbor, then out through the snow covered windows into the complete white out of the setting night. He didn’t care whose fault it was. He just hoped Karen was OK. Even as that hope dawned, he knew it was false.
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And That Is Time
Time is my boy,
Tumbling on the mats
At the YMCA into
Manhood.
A Cycle
Of hands over legs, feet over fists,
A fumble of again and
Again in
A drunken stumble,
Never straight line
Into the future.
That was yesterday’s fall, failure/success
Depending on who you ask.
Into the yawning maw of unknowing,
The fete’ accomplis
Is generally knowing how
The cookie crumbles
When the acrobat crushes it in his stride.
Take the crumbs and put them
In my cup.
And that is time.
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Is Everywhen: Tanka Poetry
Eternity flows
From God’s eyes into men’s hearts.
We live in time then
Die in forevers As God
Who is everywhen watches.
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Rebuilding From the Table Up.
This post is in response to WITHIN CAVE WALLS #FUN20083 WRITING CHALLENGE.
You can learn the rules of the challenge by clicking the underlined link above.
Below is my chosen prompt for the challenge and my story:
Chasten and Catherine’s favorite date location all through high school was The Lois’ Cafe just outside the drive-in theater. Their table was table three right at the edge of the chained courtyard. From there, they could sip their shared malted as they waited for the previews of the movie to start. It was at that table that Chasten first proposed, and it was at that table that Catherine first told him, “Not yet.”
Chasten and Catherine went off to college. Chasten proposed every year on the anniversary of his first proposal.
Each time Catherine said, “Not yet.”
By the time they graduated The Lois’ had burned down and the drive-in had closed. So, on the sixth anniversary of his first proposal Chasten took Catherine to the overgrown lot where the Lois’ and the drive-in had once been. Now all that was left was table three.
The lovers sat together at the favorite table in the long grass. A pizza and a bottle of wine was the “romantic fare” Chasten had chosen for their dinner. As the couple finished the last piece of the small pie between them, Chasten got down on one knee and presented Catherine with a piece of paper.
Catherine read the first line “Deed of purchase.”
“It’s mine now Cat.” He said gesturing to the panorama around them.
“Ours if you’ll have me.” He finished the annual proposal.
“We’ll rebuild it from the table up!” Catherine said, and she kissed her fiance’
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SWC-2: The Watch Human
I looked out the window on the back yard and my heart turned to ice in my chest. The masters were in the back yard where they often took their afternoon bones brookside. Ordinarily it was perfectly safe, our town being accepting of small dogs in spite of the prejudice that ran through our country about them.
The shepherd gang had come into town last night, though, and it was well known they did not like our kind. The masters were surrounded by six large dogs whose fangs were bared. Mercedes our matriarch and alpha had drawn Jacopo and Snug behind her protectively, but I knew they didn’t stand a chance if left to themselves. This is exactly why small dogs purchased attack people.
I sprang to the back door and pulled it open using my opposable thumbs and sprinted out into the midst of the pack. In one hand I wielded my oak club. In the other a sharpened stave.
“Back off!” I hissed.
The Shepherd gang’s alpha circled in front of me twice with ears laid low. Then he spoke to my masters, “Don’t plan on staying long you Maltese scum! This town isn’t big enough for both our breeds. If you’re not gone the next time I come to town, I promise even your watch human won’t be able to protect you from me and my pack.”
As one the pack turned tail and leaping the brook they were gone.
Mercedes was whimpering behind me, “Why can’t they just leave us alone?”
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Winter Still Holds On: Haiku
Jonquils in full bloom
Bend tender heads in sorrow.
Winter still holds on.
Yes I know it is April 25th. Yes the spring flowers are all popped through and the daffodils (jonquils) are in full bloom. Still we have more snow in the forecast tomorrow and Monday. The good news is it will not last.
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FRIDAY FICTIONEERS: THE SADDEST GOOD-BYE
I have not been part of FRIDAY FICTIONEERS for over a year or more. Now life is changing and I am bringing my writing back to the front burner. So here is today’s picture and story.
The Saddest Good Bye
by JE Lillie
Paris was their place, their heart, their secret. Meme and Pepe met after the war. She was a nurse. He was a GI.
I grew up with the picture on their wall and the little love hints they would cast out when they walked by it.
“Remember that night under the Tower, love?” He would say.
“Joe! Not in front of the children!” She would chide saucily.
Meme died last year.
Yesterday I found Paris in the garage. The smashed frame in the trash can. Pepe didn’t remember what had happened.
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Leaving the World- My first Decima
I am joining RONOVAN’S DECIMA POETRY CHALLENGE-2.
I have never written a Decima. It is harder than it looks. I used this picture for inspiration.
Leaving the World
by JE Lillie
His Boat steers into setting hope.
The sky colors a silent song.
Beneath him plays the ocean’s throng.
He remembers when he awoke.
This child of the world could not cope.
The constant running, called to dance
To entertain the god, Finance.
He left the world against its wish.
And set off for the sea to fish.
Now he sleeps on the golden strands.
Lillie-Put 