Moxie Monday: Get Started
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
[Apologies for the lack of Fiction Friday last week. Site issues seem to have been resolved.]
Moxie Monday: Know. Love. Believe.
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Rebranding]
They arrived without fanfare. Just appeared out of the blue one day. Silver orbs hovering high in the sky above New York City, silent and reflective. No matter the weather or time of day, they were always there. And as the months passed, they began to pop up all over the world.
Once everyone realized it wasn’t some elaborate publicity stunt, panic set in. Speculation on the orbs’ intentions dominated every conversation. Trusted news networks booked Ancient Alien Conspiracy Theorists as their pundits and the theorists were more than happy to leave behind their novelty shows on the Discovery Channel. The anticipation of lasers shooting toward the earth, and destroying us all, cast a shadow over every moment of every day.
But time passed and nothing happened. The orbs just continued to hover silently above. It wasn’t long before the fear turned into anger. Anger born from the idea that we were being judged. It was as if there was nothing more jarring than knowing we were being fully seen, warts and all.
So, wars were paused and the poor were fed. Fairer laws were passed and no one was left to suffer sleepless nights on the street. There was never a mandate, it just happened. We were human after all, so it wasn’t surprising when the world as a whole adopted a “we’ll show them” attitude.
Kindness spread and gathered steam as easily as hate had for too long. Growing with every act performed in its name, kindness eventually became second nature. And not once did anyone shoot an “I told you so” up to the sky. If they had, they would have noticed that the orbs were gone.
Moxie Monday: On To The Next
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday [Landline]
My eyes shot open and I was greeted with darkness. A thick, coal murkiness meant only to keep one cradled in the bosom of sleep. It was the harsh bleat of the landline begging for attention, over and over, that woke me. Oval-ish and corded, it sat on the nightstand next to Ben’s side of the bed. In theory the placement was perfect, since his parents were the only ones to ever use the number.
The uninterrupted, meditative rise and fall of the lump next to me, fully illustrated the flaw in the plan. I reached over and patted his shoulder with all of the middle of the night strength I could muster.
“Ben. Phone.”
As I gathered the energy to tap him again, the phone stopped ringing. Relieved, I melted into the comforting silence and grew hypnotized by Ben’s steady breathing. Despite my irritation with his deep sleep, I was appreciative for the rare moment of actually sharing a bed with my husband. Since he started his residency at St. Luke’s, these moments were few and far between.
The shrill tone of the antiquated telephone cut through the silence with the ease of a butter knife cutting an overcooked steak. I let loose a growl as my fists bounced weakly against the mattress.
Expecting Ben to answer at this point was only an exercise in frustration, and leaving it to ring would only lead to another call, so I took a deep breath and rose to my elbows. Reaching over Ben, I patted blindly for the phone.
“Hello?” I said, making sure my voice was extra groggy in hopes that this time the in-laws would remember to mind the time difference.
“Hey, honey. Sorry to wake you but I forgot what you needed me to pick up on the way home.”
Ben’s words fell away as a hot wave of panic crept and weaved its way through every molecule in my body. Fear choked at my vocal chords and I couldn’t respond. My brain, still stuck in the sludge of sleep, fought to understand.
“Nina?” Ben’s voice echoed through the receiver clutched to my ear. “Did you hear me?”
His question was answered by the scream of terror that ripped from my throat as the lump slowly turned toward me.
Moxie Monday: Take Your Turn
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Halloween 1984]
The mask
was a concentrated heatwave.
Every exhale filled the nooks and crannies
of the pre-BPA free plastic and
applied layer after layer
of slickness.
The slits at the nose and mouth,
embarrassed by their uselessness.
The body,
slipped over my street clothes
like a doctor heading into surgery.
and tied at the back,
proudly displayed the name across
my chest…
in case the mask wasn’t enough.
The world
had to know,
there could be no doubt
that I was, indeed,
Strawberry Shortcake.
Moxie Monday: Never Give Up
Kick start your week with lil' moxie!
