Out of Reach

This was based on the Six-Sentence Story prompt “reserve” by girlontheedge. I am going to apologize now, because this is incredibly depressing, and unfortunately real world even though it is fiction. It is focused on Christmas and the growing realization that people are having that this isn’t going to be the joyous, pandemic free holiday that people have been expecting.

I held my own opinions in reserve as I listened the boisterous holiday talk around me, not wanting to be the one who soured the mood with a dose of reality. I did not have to wait long, as with each day and each new case announced the feeling of unease grew, and the murmurs changed from joy to discontent at what kind of Christmas we would be having.

The holiday masks of the prior year, once thought to be a decadence due to their short term use, were being pulled back out with an air of sadness. Friends and family asking the question if they should forgo this Christmas to try and avoid being in the same boat next year, while others who didn’t have many seasons ahead of them worried this might be the last chance they got to see their families.

For the second year in a row, lines were drawn, and people were split in their decisions, though some had changed sides since the year prior, with whether or not they were willing to take the risk, to potentially get sick, or end up trapped far from their own homes.

I looked out at the scene that was set with snow, decorations, presents galore, and all that was missing was the holiday spirit of those who were being reminded that Dr. Seuss’s was right, that it wasn’t the same if we didn’t have we.


This one was written as a response to the six-sentence challenge by girlontheedge. This weeks word was METHOD, and I used it in a thriller style six, with a bit of a twist at the end. I like this weeks, it was a little less introspective than usual, but also a bit lighter as well….

The door swung open and I knew at once that something must be terribly wrong, because Suzie never leaves the door unlocked.  The evidence continued to overwhelm me, with scattered papers, upturned boxes, and every drawer open screaming WRONG, as I ran from room to room crying Suzie’s name.

I froze a moment when it sunk in, that they could still be in the house, and  if it weren’t for the blood smeared on the wall I would have stopped and called the police right then.   I ran up the stairs following the blood on the railing and I pulled my phone to call 911 when I turned into the office and saw her.

There was Suzie, sitting on the floor of her office in a pile of papers, a bandage on her hand, music blaring from her headphones, and she startled a bit when she saw me. “Oh my god Tamara, I swear I have searched every damn place in this house for my receipt,  even cut my hand trying to pry open a lock box,  and let me tell you I was lying when I said there was a method to my madness!”

Final Grains of Sand

This is my first stab at the six sentence challenge from girlontheedge. What I will say was though it was fun, and a little difficult to hit the sentence count, I should probably focus on some more 100 or 250 word challenged because I have no trouble. The word prompt was distraction and as usual DARKNESS.

She ignored the pain that racked her body because she knew it was nothing more than a distraction. It was just one more thing that would stop her from accomplishing her goals.

Only months ago she thought she had all the time in the world, and now she knew she would not have half as much as she had been promised.  The list she had made, already shortened once, would have to be cut down again.

She took a deep breath and focused as she lifted her pen and began circling what was not only the most important, but what she was and would be physically capable of doing. 

The remaining list was small, and yet she knew within her heart of hearts she would not be able to complete it.