GUMSHOE: #Weekly Word Challenge 7-5-20 DOGGED

This post is created in response to MILLIE THOM’S WEEKLY WORD CHALLENGE- WORDS BEGINNING WITH THE LETTER D.

The word I have chosen for today’s piece of flash fiction is the word…

DOGGED-

adjective

having or showing tenacity and grim persistence.”success required dogged determination”

VERB

  1. 1.follow (someone or their movements) closely and persistently.”photographers seemed to dog her every step”Similar:pursuefollowstalktracktrailshadowhoundplaguebesetbedevilassailbeleaguerblighttroubletormenthaunttail
    • (of a problem) cause continual trouble for.”their finance committee has been dogged by controversy”
  2. 2.INFORMAL•NORTH AMERICANact lazily; fail to try one’s hardest.
  3. 3.grip (something) with a mechanical device.”she has dogged the door shut”

HERE IS MY ATTEMPT:

Private investigator Archives | El Dorado Insurance Agency, INC

GUMSHOE

I sipped my coffee calmly and turned the page of the New York times. I took a deep calming breath and lifted the paper in front of me as if the story I had just turned to was the most interesting thing in my world at the moment.

I crossed my legs and swiveled ever so slightly to the left so that I could get a better view across the top of my paper at the alley across from the cafe. The man who had dogged my steps for half a week was back. I had done my best to lose him three times, but this private dick was better than the last two Kramer had sent to spy me out. Well, so much the worse for him. I had things to do and a message to deliver, a message to a contact whose cover must be protected at all costs.

I folded my paper and looked at my watch as if I was late. I signalled the waiter and paid him directly leaving without the change. I grabbed my coat and left the open air cafe. I pulled my driving gloves out of my pocket and slung my London Fog over my arm as I dashed across the street and down a side alley adjacent to my watcher.

As I expected he followed. I had to admit he was good. He kept what would normally be a very cautious distance for a tail. Anyone less paranoid would have missed him entirely.

I ducked around the corner. It was such a shame to waste such talent.I would have preferred another route, but the man had made his choice.

He was surprised when he turned the corner and met my silenced revolver. I pulled his body into the darkness of a doorway and looked about to make sure I had not been noticed.

The way was clear.

Before I left I turned to the dead man and said, “That is what happens to gum on the bottom of my shoe my friend. Tell the others to stay out of my way.”

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:

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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’

SWC-2: The Watch Human

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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?”

THIS POST IN IN RESPONSE TO SANDMAN’S WRITING CHALLENGE NUMBER 2. TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE CHALLENGE CLICK HERE.

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.

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E.Ayr

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.

Friday Fictioneers: Not Home Anymore

It is time once again for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. That is the challenge where about 100 authors use 100 words to tell 100 stories about 1 picture.

This is our picture.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Here is my story:

Not Home Anymore

by JE Lillie

Johan strode into the white-marbled hall.

A woman in an organza gown lifted her nose in the air. She fanned herself twice and drew the nosegay at her wrist to her face with a disdainful gaze.

Johan thought back to the little farm he had worked with his own hands these last years. The mountain streams he had fished. Lisse, the faithful, common wife he had shared his bed with.

“Johan my son! You have returned!” King Ecthbert called. The old man gathered Johan into his meaty arms as courtiers gasped in dismay.

The palace was not home anymore.

 

 

Find the other stories realted to this picture by clicking the underlined link above.

Friday Fictioneers: Behind These Gates

It is time once again for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS ,  the challenge where 100 authors gather to share 100 word stories all from 1 photo prompt. To see all the stories click the underlined link and follow the blue frog. Here is our prompt and my 100 word story.

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Photo Prompt by J Hardy Carrol

Behind These Gates

by JE Lillie

I stand on the porch just beyond their reach.

They can sense me. I can sense them.

Another step closer and they could mindswipe me.

Father has trembled the gates. They know one touch would shake them to pieces.

Daddy’s power is highly coveted. So is mine.

Since the Mutant Wars everyone can read minds. Many can mindswipe. A few like Dad have the power to tremble,turning inanimate objects into sonic killing weapons. One in a hundred million can necrotame.

I go back inside. Behind these gates I am safe from becoming their greatest weapon.

Friday Fictioneers 12-30-16: Serenade

It has been a while since I had an opportunity to just sit down and write extra posts. This week my goal is to participate in all the challenges I once took part in weekly. I am having just so much fun!

It is time to take up Rochelle’s weekly photo fiction prompt. If you would like to join in just click on the photo below and you will be whisked over to Rochelle’s place and there you can discover the rules of play.

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

Serenade

By JE Lillie

She had little to show for the last two years, just what was in her duffel. He owned the rest. When he told her about the new woman it had taken her only fifteen minutes to clear out.

Standing on the lift platform she realized it had all been a dream. Reality couldn’t be rolled up in under a half hour. She promised herself it would never happen again.

The street player arrived then and opened up his guitar case. As he began to play she smiled. He smiled back, and the dream began again.

Coming Soon…Pork Chops

My debut novel with Author Tracy Lee Karner will be coming out this fall!

Pork Chops With the Sentinels Of Azatan…is a coming-of-age story about a misfit boy named Honey, a comic-book super-hero obsessed dad who abandons him, and a new-age flighty mother who is often oblivious to his needs. It combines humor and tragedy under the themes of forgiveness and grace, and is set in Massachusetts in the 1970’s.

For those of you who might think that title is a bit quirky, just remember how much I like quirky things!

It is going to be a fun read so jump on board by joining my e-mail list…

At the moment my MailChimp pop-up is not working properly so just leave me a comment down below and I will send my e-mail your way so you can send me yours.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers: Flicker

It is time once again for Friday Fictioneers. This is the challenge where about 100 authors share 100 stories in 100 words all concerning 1 picture chosen by our hostess Rochelle.

Please click the underlined link above to find all the stories written  from this picture.

PHOTO PROMPT © Mary Shipman

PHOTO PROMPT © Mary Shipman

I am writing this story off of my first reaction to the picture. At first I saw the swatches of fabric to the right of the lights as fresh dipped candles hanging and drying.

Flicker

by JE Lillie

We walked hand in hand down to the boat house. I could see the candles flickering in the windows.

I reminisced about my father lighting candles in a blackout, telling ghost stories until midnight.

Grampa’s lantern with it’s little candle shone into the dark joy of many a family camping trip.

My father had proposed to my mother by candle light.

As I opened the door to the boathouse I thought how perfect it all was.

Then she said, “It’s so dark in here. Can’t we turn on the lights?”

I let go of the little black box in my pocket, “Sure.”

The lights clicked on.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers 4-22-16: The Snare

It is time once again for Friday Fictioneers. This is the challenge where about 100 authors share 100 stories in 100 words all concerning 1 picture chosen by our hostess Rochelle.

Please click the underlined link above to find all the stories written  from this picture.

PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods

Photo by Madison Woods

The Snare

By JE Lillie

I tried to warn him.

But hearing succumbs to the louder beating of the heart.

I saw her thorns from a long way off.

All he saw was curves.

I caught the essence of bitterness that is sure and certain poison for men.

All he smelled was her breath on his neck.

She took my hand and there was a betrayal in the gentle grip.

“Her hands are smooth as silk.” He said bedazzled.

My tongue tingled with the flavor of his destruction  that day.

He tasted her lips as the parson said “You may kiss your bride.”

I am not entirely sure why but as soon as I saw the picture my mind flashed to this passage in the Old Testament.

“This is the way of an adulterous woman:
    She eats and wipes her mouth
    and says, ‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’

21 “Under three things the earth trembles,
    under four it cannot bear up:
22 a servant who becomes king,
    a godless fool who gets plenty to eat,
23 a contemptible woman who gets married,
    and a servant who displaces her mistress. Proverbs 30:20-23