Light in the Darkness

I am responding to the WordPress Daily Post of today: Candle.

When I saw this word, I immediately thought of Tolkien. Last night I attended a wonderful talk about the “Catholic Imagination of J.R.R. Tolkien” and after that I don’t think I’ll read his books the same way again. It’s not that the story has changed for me – not at all. Instead, I feel like the story has come alive in a new way with deeper, more meaningful insights and a whole new way to connect to the story and characters has been opened up for me.

I had already loved and respected Tolkien. Now I love him and respect him even more. If I had had any doubt of his genius, those doubts are entirely banished.

In response to the prompt word “candle” I offer one of Tolkien’s most well known poems:


Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go re-read The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Have a good weekend everyone!

What She Wanted

It’s Friday! Yay! Time again for Friday Fictioneers, the epic 100-word writing prompt hosted weekly by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thanks so much for also providing the photo as well, Rochelle!

I went a little over on today’s prompt. My story is actually 150 words, but try as I might, I just couldn’t edit it down any further. Hope you will enjoy it anyway. Thanks for reading!

Copyright: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

What She Wanted

 “Power outages all over the city….” The radio crackled with static. Alice lay on her bed in her new black dress, her makeup a bit smudged from tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

The front door opened and closed. Alice closed her eyes. Daniel had come. She heard him rustling around in the kitchen, but she still lay on the bed in the dark.

In a few minutes, Daniel poked his head inside her room. “Come here, beautiful,” he said with a smile. “I have a surprise for you.”

She followed him resignedly to the kitchen and saw the table lit by two kerosene lamps. A bowl of chips and salsa sat next to a plate of sliced apples and a bottle of wine. “It’s not the same as a fancy restaurant, but will you have dinner with me, Alice?”

Wordlessly Alice slipped her arms around him. “It’s perfect.”


Huzzah! It’s Friday. Time for Friday Fictioneers! As always, special thanks to our fearless leader, Rochelle, for posting a prompt without fail. This week, we thank CEAyr for the photo.

Enjoy the story!

Copyright: CEAyr.

Copyright: CEAyr.


“So why are we here?” whispered her husband. Rita shrugged.

“Mrs. Taylor didn’t say.” Silently they looked at their children’s ballet class through the two way mirror as the class started their routine. Their twins, Cora and Constantine were in the middle of the group, looking poised and attentive.

The dance began, with mostly graceful arms and twirls and all seemed well until they did a spin and kick, when the twins led their class in a practiced taekwondo kick, ending with a loud, “Ha!”

Mrs. Taylor immediately stopped the routine and glared in at the now laughing parents. “See?”

Long Live the King

Response to the WordPress One Word Daily Prompt for today: Disagree.

Found via Pinterest.

Found via Pinterest.

Long Live the King

The queen of Drasta was a patient woman.

So patient, in fact, that she didn’t run back down the aisle in hysteric tears when the king forgot her first name at their wedding ceremony. She simply reminded him and the ceremony continued.

When the king postponed their wedding tour of the continent, she didn’t make a fuss, just set to rearranging plans immediately. They would make their tour eventually, she knew. Probably someday. Or maybe not.

At every meal she gently reminded him to chew with his mouth closed, but he never seemed to hear her. Still, she knew  it would sink in after a while. He was the king after all, and manners mattered. Five years of marriage later and she was still waiting for it to sink in.

Day after day the queen patiently ruled beside her king and husband, listening to his monologues on hunting and horse racing, dealing with his tantrums when one of his new policies didn’t go over like he had planned, nodding sympathetically when he complained about never getting a break, looking over his official documents for errors, making sure the kitchen always prepared his favorite meals (even though she knew he would chew them with his mouth open), and so on. She tended to his every need with a patient smile, and the days passed in their (mostly) peaceful kingdom.

She was sitting in her parlor when it happened. Tea had been served, and she was chatting quietly with a few of her attending ladies.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty! Have you heard the terrible news?” Her attendant, Lady Milred rushed into the room, barely dipping into the customary curtsy. Her cheeks were bright pink, her chest heaving and her hat was falling off her head. She was completely flustered. The queen waited patiently as Lady Mildred fanned herself, frantically trying to compose herself with little success. She gave her queen a look of anguish. “Oh your Majesty, I am deeply sorry to tell you this, but the king has been…has been…” Lady Milred trailed off.

“Yes, Lady Milred? The king has been what?” the queen prompted. The king and his men were currently conquering a neighboring kingdom in the south, and any number of things could have happened to him.

“Oh my, Your Majesty…he has been beheaded!” cried Lady Mildred, fanning herself furiously again. All the other ladies gasped. One even burst into tears.

The queen blinked. “Oh, is that all?”

Lady Mildred gaped at her queen.

“Do close your mouth, Mildred, it isn’t ladylike,” the queen gentle chided her. She took a careful sip of her tea. “Never mind the king and his head. It never was his best feature anyway.”



Looking Up

Happy Day After Friday, Readers! We’ve made it another week. I hope you won’t mind if I’m a day late – I still wanted to write a Friday Fictioneers  story! Thanks, as always to Rochelle for providing us with a prompt. Thanks also to Roger Bultot for this week’s interesting photo. Enjoy!

Copyright: Roger Bultot

Copyright: Roger Bultot

Looking Up

“Straighten your jacket, Daniel.”

“I’ll get it,” snapped Daniel, jerking away from his mother’s fussing hands.

“Smile. Your father is investing a lot of money into this charity, and it’s good PR for us.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “What’s this charity even for?” But his mother was already gone.

“Literacy.” A lilting voice said from behind him.

He turned, ready to snap at whoever had been eavesdropping, and caught sight of a pretty girl with blue eyes smiling at him. He found himself smiling back.

Maybe this charity thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Cross My Heart

Hello Readers! I’m back again, and trying to get back into regular posting, especially with Friday Fictioneers! As always, special thanks to Rochelle for providing us with a weekly prompt, and to Shaktiki Sharma for this week’s photo!

Bit of a dark story today, but enjoy.

Copyright: Shaktiki Sharma

Copyright: Shaktiki Sharma

Cross My Heart

 “Check inside!” The sharp voices of the soldiers outside made Alina’s heart jump to her throat. She pushed herself further into the corner of the mill.

Her brother Nikolai squeezed her hand. “I won’t let them find you, cross my heart,” he said, miming the words with his finger.

Too late, Nikolai realized they had left a trail in the flour and dust on the floor. With one last look at his sister, he stepped from their hiding place. “Don’t shoot! I’ll go with you.”

“We do not want swine,” said the solider as he shot him in the chest.

Simple Joy

Hello, Readers.

It’s been a while. Have you missed me? I’ve certainly missed Friday Fictioneers. Today I’m back, with a story response to Rochelle‘s weekly prompt and 100 word story challenge. Hopefully I’m not too rusty. This week our photo is provided by Vijaya Sundaram.



Copyright: Vijaya Sundaram

Simple Joy

We piled into the attic, our bare feet scuffing along the dusty floor. All seven of us, including baby Jim. Ellie was holding him. He was quiet for once, happy being held.

The twins giggled and whispered amongst themselves and Sarah shushed them, lest we wake up Father, who was passed out in the room below. Mama was out, with no telling when she’d come back.

After much wriggling and shuffling about, we managed to sit in a way so everyone could see out of the dingy attic window. Then the fireworks started and simple joy shone on every face.