Linda Louise Rigsbee

HomeSpun Literature is bound to please.

Archive for the month “April, 2014”

Diving into the Helmet

Douglas M Macilroy provided April 18 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt

Douglas M Macilroy provided April 18 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt

April 18th Friday Fictioneer’s Flash Fiction Photo Prompt by Douglas M Macilroy transported me back to motherhood in “Diving into the Helmet.”

I get that the toy diver’s helmet was never meant for an adult head, but there should be some easy way to get the thing off. It would be bad enough for a 9-year-old to catch his mom cleaning his room, but to find me in this helmet?
I didn’t hear the bus stop or the front door open, but I had no trouble hearing Andy guffaw.
When he opened the latch on the helmet and released me, I gave him a stern look and said “Next time clean your own room.”
Muffled laughter followed me out the door.


Memorable Evenings

Photo Prompt by D Lovering. April 11, 2014 Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

ImageHer head throbbed as she frowned at the bedraggled streamers.  She must have imbibed too much last night.  She turned to Demetrius.  “What was the occasion?”

“Ah, my love,” he lifted her hand to his lips and responded in a mildly offended tone.  “Surely you have not forgotten.” His handsome face offered no clue to the mystery.
  A storm had awakened her this morning and she had been alone in her room at the time.

He sighed.  “We are engaged.”

She jerked her hand from his.  “I would have remembered…” Her voice faltered when a diamond ring winked from her finger.

Thanks to

Alien Light

April 4, 2014 Friday Fictioneer photo prompt

April 4, 2014 Friday Fictioneer photo prompt

I used the wrong photo for a prompt, so I wrote two flash fiction stories today. Here is the correct one…I think.

I always saw figures in wood grain and fluffy clouds, so it was no surprise when I saw the alien hanging from the ceiling at the studio. It had two glowing eyes, a fluorescent muzzle and strange metal ears. It was angry with me – probably because I kept staring at it.
An elbow jabbed my ribs. “It’s your line.” Sharon whispered.
I only had three words in the play, but darned if I could remember what they were.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation and whispered urgently. “It’s a monster.”
“No, it’s just a light,” I assured her.

Summer Prayer

On August 6, 1945, the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Three days later, the second atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. A few days later, Japan surrendered and WWII was over.

She paused, pen in hand, enjoying the fragrance of summer blossoms. Memories forced themselves on her. The wedding; the births and the christenings – summers at the beach house and Christmas caroling in the city. It had been a good life, and it would be again – when he returned. She breathed a heavy sigh. Would this war ever end? She gazed down at the letter, silently praying that he would come back alive. Finally she signed and dated it – August 5, 1945. She folded it and placed a kiss on it before sliding it into the envelope.FF-4-4-14

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