Unseasonal Weather

The unseasonal weather meant it was time to schedule a pedicure and break out the short skirts. Marnie was getting a head start at finding a husband this Spring. Her goal was to have a man on her arm at the family barbecue Memorial Day weekend so she didn’t have to hear her mother’s constant nagging. That would stop her mother from pestering her about grand children though. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to have a bun in the oven by then as well. Not the traditional route, but with it being 90 degrees and two weeks from Easter why not keep an open mind.

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I was seeing stories about snow and freezing temps, so I had to throw one in that was inspired by the 90 degree day we had down here on Monday.




Trifextra Week Fifty-Seven: Flying Flurries

I sat staring out at the flying flurries, wondering what I should write. Nothing came to mind. I choked down the weak, bitter hotel coffee as my mind wandered out in the snow.

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For the weekend challenge we’re asking for exactly thirty-three words written in first person narrative. – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.klzvJAnU.dpuf

Punxsutawney Phil’s Retirement

I,Punxsutawney Phil, announce my retirement effective today. Hence force, Spring’s arrival predictions will be held at the West Pole by Texas’s own Bee Cave Bob. I’ve known Bob for a long time, his predictions are right 98.6% of the time. Results will be officiated by the Lone Star Weatherological Society. So mosey on down to Texas next year for a warmer winter break to get your Spring time predictions. Who wants to stand outside in the Pennsylvania winter anyway. I’m headed down to Mexico for retirement, but you may catch me with a bowl of chili on Armadillo Day next year.

—-Click on the West Pole link to learn more about Armadillo Day —

Armadillo Photo: WikiCommons

Jenny Matlock

Approaching Storm

Thunder rumbled over the prairie as dark storm clouds crept across the sky stealing the sunshine.

“Let’s kick this bucket of bolts into overdrive!” sweet Shirley laughed.

Nothing like being caught out in the worst of spring storms. Brian grind down on his teeth as he shifted and hit the gas pedel.

As the winds began extracting loose debris and serving towards the swirling mass now forming, Brian pulled into an old farm house.

“Come on we haven’t much time!”

Brian pulled Shirley toward a nearby storm cellar and closed the door just as the twister touched down.


Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #290

Story A Day Sept 22: Twister

Carrianne tried to cover the bruises the best she could. Her tears falling like the raindrops that began platter on the tiny bathroom window. Carrianne prayed to her mama in heaven that the storm would wake the monster passed out on the couch as she quietly turned on the radio. The weatherman said a twister was on the way. Carrianne tripped over the whisky bottles gathering blankets and water to the cellar.

Soaked from the rain, Carrianne tried to wake her father to for them to take shelter from the storm. He was passed out in drunken stupor, deadened to the world. There was no way she could carry him out to the cellar. Carrianne ran back out into the wind and ran towards the cellar, calling out to the dog, who was more bruised and beaten. She closed the cellar do behind her and the dog as the hail began to berate the earth.

Carrianne huddle in the back of the shelter with the frighted pup under a mound of blankets praying to her mama in heaven to let them live through the storm. Wind howled. Mother Nature unleashed a furious twister that scored the earth, shattering glass, splintering wood, upending trees. Debris pelted the cellar door. Then all was silent. Until the earth screamed in pain one last time.

Carrianne opened the cellar door to find nothing but clear skies. No house, no more monster.