tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69630156796509689322024-03-12T21:53:17.223-04:00DB McNicol, AuthorDB McNicol, AuthorDonna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.comBlogger982125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-40810796027667623152019-06-19T14:50:00.000-04:002019-06-24T14:38:11.377-04:00We've Moved!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">This blog will no longer be updated here. </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Please jump over to my <a href="https://dbmcnicol.com/blog/" target="_blank">new website and blog</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">This is where I will be posting future stories and updates.</span></div>
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I hope you like the new look </div>
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and will continue to follow me over there!</div>
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<i style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There are multiple ways to follow the new blog, the easiest is via WordPress and the blog post comment block (on the new site, not the old one). You can use your Google - Twitter - Facebook - WordPress account. If you don't have any of these, you can create a WordPress account right there. </span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Be sure to check the box to be notified of new posts.</span></b></span></i></div>
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-17411212934200992512019-06-16T05:00:00.000-04:002019-06-16T05:00:00.144-04:00Change Ahead!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you haven't already heard, there are some changes coming. I have started a <a href="https://authorshutterbug.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">WordPress.com blog</a> where I am currently duplicating my flash fiction stories as of Thursday. Starting in July, I will be posting my flash fiction on the new blog only. This blog will be reserved for author and book updates, book sales, etc.<br />
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What does that mean for this blog? By the end of June, I will make a decision whether to completely move all my postings to the new blog or continue to split the posts. My current feeling is I will slowly move to the new one and maybe update the look and feel of my current website to match the new blog. Of course, that may also entail a move to a new hosting company.<br />
<br />Decisions, decisions.....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://authorshutterbug.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">CLICK FOR NEW BLOG</a></td></tr>
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So, I hope you will <a href="https://authorshutterbug.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">take a look at the new blog</a> and let me know what you think. Let me know anything you like or don't like as well as any comparisons to this blog would be appreciated.<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-62127296233374856412019-06-14T04:00:00.000-04:002019-06-14T10:53:16.354-04:00#fotoflash Jun 14 2019: Afterlife<span style="color: #990000;"><i>Here is my contribution to this week's <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/06/friday-foto-flash-fiction-jun-14-2019.html" target="_blank">Friday Foto Flash prompt</a> in 500 words or less</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="425" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXaXFYbhFPU/XP17-Z5ndzI/AAAAAAAALFM/sRsxlqTAlbkAv5udB2sAVYRRZpwj9eVBQCLcBGAs/s640/pier-801812_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: <a href="https://pixabay.com/photos/pier-jetty-persons-child-kid-801812/">https://pixabay.com/photos/pier-jetty-persons-child-kid-801812/</a></td></tr>
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Jenna sighed with relief as they walked down the wooden pier. Everyone had finally left. It was just her and her two year old, Alanna. She hadn't wanted to do it this way but her in-laws had demanded. Full funeral with reception after. They called it a wake but she felt anything but awake.<br />
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Alanna had cried through the whole thing, irritating her in-laws who already didn't accept them. Married only a month when he was killed in a wrong way car crash. They hadn't attended the wedding and felt she was an interloper. That she had a young child from a not-in-their-life father just made things worse.</div>
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But now they were gone. They had taken all his belongings with them and left without so much as a goodbye or keep in touch. That was okay with her. She would always have the memories. He'd been in their life since the birth of Alanna. He was the paramedic who delivered her in the back of the ambulance. They'd been together ever since.</div>
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When they reached the end of the pier, she sat down and pulled Alanna into her lap, wiping away her tears. "I want Daddy," she sobbed.</div>
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"I know sweetie. So do I. But he's still here."</div>
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Alanna looked up. "Where, Mommy? I don't see him."</div>
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She pointed to the sky. "He's up there watching over us. See that fluffy cloud? That's his favorite bed. And that group of trees over there? His best fishing spot." She placed their hands on their respective hearts. "He's always in here, close to our hearts. Never forget that. Never..."</div>
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Three years later, Alanna was now six. They still lived in the cottage by the lake. She was working at Alanna's school as an art teacher and all in all, life was good. They were in the kitchen preparing some of the fixings for their Thanksgiving dinner when Alanna quietly said, "Daddy talked to me today."</div>
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Non-plussed, she responded, "And what did Daddy say to you?"</div>
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"He told me you shouldn't be an old maid. What's an old maid?"</div>
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Jenna laughed. "Well, it usually is a woman who is old and has never been married. But since Daddy and I were married, I can't be an old maid."</div>
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"Oh."</div>
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"Was that all he said?" She continued working the pie dough, keeping a side eye on her daughter.</div>
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"No...." Alanna wouldn't meet her eyes.</div>
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Wondering at the reluctance, she paused to wipe her hands and kneel down. "It's okay. You can tell me anything."</div>
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The little girl shrugged. "It's a secret."</div>
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She hugged Alanna. "That's okay. Daddy and I don't have secrets from each other."</div>
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"Well, he said he was coming to visit for Thanksgiving and it was supposed to be a surprise."</div>
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Jenna stood, a bit puzzled. "That would be nice but we both know Daddy is gone. Right? He's just a memory. A good memory."</div>
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Alanna shook her head. "No he's not. He's real. He brought me ice cream during recess!"</div>
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<i> More Stories</i></div>
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-66348737543645216802019-06-14T03:00:00.000-04:002019-06-14T03:00:00.152-04:00Friday Foto Flash Fiction: Jun 14 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="52" data-original-width="1044" height="31" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-boS5ohiaseQ/XOSEbxSuEzI/AAAAAAAAK9g/m0dOnrxFtg0afdq7dL9aqP6Q-WD8azyHACEwYBhgL/s640/friday-foto-flash-fiction.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html" target="_blank"><img alt="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html" border="0" data-original-height="66" data-original-width="343" height="38" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uifQ0tyBK7M/XOSEGQwEB1I/AAAAAAAAK9Y/sptItOX5LkIWjO0EJyYqd4cM7Q2Gx-wlACEwYBhgL/s200/fotoflash.png" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #990000;"><i>Welcome to Friday Foto Flash Fiction! Each Friday I will post a new picture to be used as inspiration for your flash fiction written in 500 words or less. Be sure to include the photo, the source credit, and<b> a link to this post with your story</b>. </i><i>Entries will close on Thursday at midnight Eastern Time.</i><i><br />
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Once your post is live, add your link to the list below. I hope you will visit the other entries (and check back often for new stories). Remember to leave them a comment in appreciation. <br />
</i></span><i style="color: #990000;">Thank you and enjoy! Here's your photo prompt.</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="425" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXaXFYbhFPU/XP17-Z5ndzI/AAAAAAAALFM/sRsxlqTAlbkAv5udB2sAVYRRZpwj9eVBQCLcBGAs/s640/pier-801812_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: <a href="https://pixabay.com/photos/pier-jetty-persons-child-kid-801812/">https://pixabay.com/photos/pier-jetty-persons-child-kid-801812/</a></td></tr>
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<a name='more'></a><i><span style="color: #990000;">This is my first week using InLinkz for link-ups. Hope all goes well...if you have an issue, please post your blog URL in the comments so I can include them in the roundup next Friday.</span></i><br />
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<span style="display: none;"><script async="true" src="https://fresh.inlinkz.com/js/widget/load.js?id=ef8b06cc10bc6002458d"></script></span><i>Don't forget to add a link in your blog post to this post <br />
AND to the <a href="https://fresh.inlinkz.com/p/7bf6aa538a874d27a142ee9076863020" target="_blank">STORIES</a> page. <br />
Feel free to use this image with this link.<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-75005601309478632762019-06-13T16:29:00.000-04:002019-06-14T10:53:44.172-04:00100 Word Wednesday: Privacy #100WW<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://bikurgurl.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/img_0880.jpg?w=1440" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="480" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="http://twitter.com/Bikurgurl" target="_blank">Bikurgurl</a></td></tr>
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<i><span style="color: #990000;">My contribution to <a href="https://bikurgurl.com/2019/06/11/100-word-wednesday-week-124/" target="_blank">this week's photo prompt from Bikurgurl</a>...</span></i><br />
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It was the only place she would never think to look for him. She knew he hated anything outdoors unless it involved sports. Gardening? Never! Flowers? Heaven forbid! Bird watching? You have to be kidding me!<br />
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His obsessive ex-girlfriend had tracked him down in all his favorite spots. Country club, coffee shops, the gym, even his best friend's house. She had even barged into the men’s locker room!<br />
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He had to get his this article finished, if he missed this deadline his job was in jeopardy. He started to type: "Getting back to nature in your own back yard..."<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-26214182879099183132019-06-13T13:02:00.000-04:002019-06-14T10:54:04.035-04:00FridayFictioneers: The Fortuneteller<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="800" src="https://rochellewisofffields.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/vintage-kitchen-tools-valerie-barrett.jpg?w=1200&h=934" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="580" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "gillsans" , "calibri" , "trebuchet" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic;">PHOTO PROMPT © </span><a href="https://flagstonesfog.wordpress.com/" style="font-family: GillSans, Calibri, Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic;">Valerie J. Barrett</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><i>My contribution to <a href="https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/06/12/14-june-2019/" target="_blank">Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers</a>...<br />(NOTE: this is an abbreviated version of my <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/04/t-tea-atozchallenge.html" target="_blank">story for the letter T</a> for the 2019 A to Z Challenge)</i></span><br />
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She thrust the tea cup into my hands. "Don't drink all. Leave some."<br />
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I did as I was told, setting it down on the table between us when there was a little left.<br />
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"Hold in left hand. Swirl three times. To the right."<br />
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I swirled the contents, mesmerized by the agitated leaves. I held the cup towards her but she shook her head. "Upside down on saucer. Slowly."<br />
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Next she lifted the cup, peering inside. "GO!"<br />
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"What?"<br />
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"Now!"<br />
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Still arguing, she pushed me out the door. What had she seen that so terrified-<br />
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My thoughts were cut short by the bullet that killed me.<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-83183670477341352452019-06-10T21:50:00.000-04:002019-06-14T10:54:26.543-04:00#FFFC - Paradise<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="640" src="https://fivedotoh.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/b4fde47c-97d6-4f11-b631-1fd08941d4da.jpeg?w=1272" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="425" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit Roberto Nickson@<a href="http://unsplash.com/">unsplash.com</a></td></tr>
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<i><span style="color: #990000;">From <a href="https://fivedotoh.com/2019/06/10/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-17/" target="_blank">Fandango's Flash Fiction Challenge</a>...</span></i><br />
<br />
Anyone looking in from the outside would call her life paradise, but she knew better. She was a slave. Not in the traditional sense, but a slave nonetheless.<br />
<a name='more'></a>She had started young. It all seemed so innocent at the time. She was only sixteen when the first gifts came. Gifts from admirers. Male, of course.<br />
<br />
By the time she was eighteen the gifts had gone from cute outfits and little trinkets to designer clothes and expensive jewelry.<br />
<br />
At twenty-one, she finished her studies and graduated with a useless degree. It was the one thing her parents had insisted on.<br />
<br />
Her first apartment was a walk-up in a funky, fun neighborhood. Another gift.<br />
<br />
Things moved quickly after that. By twenty-five she was ensconced in a high rise in Italy overlooking the city. Floor to ceiling windows gave her and endless view of the sea.<br />
<br />
If she wanted something, needed or not, all she had to do was ask.<br />
<br />
She wasn't locked in, in fact, she had her own Ferrari. A gorgeous red convertible. She often took it out for drives.<br />
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But she always came back. She knew no other life. She was bought and paid for.<br />
<br />
A slave.<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-76985463364061406772019-06-10T05:23:00.000-04:002019-06-11T15:25:55.093-04:00The Four Agreements [by Don Miguel Ruiz] <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x2aSLAFUUMY/XP12pKXpuDI/AAAAAAAALEw/xiFMXHWzsR4T-GCcer2IA_ev2qxVvEC1wCLcBGAs/s1600/4-agreements.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1100" data-original-width="735" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x2aSLAFUUMY/XP12pKXpuDI/AAAAAAAALEw/xiFMXHWzsR4T-GCcer2IA_ev2qxVvEC1wCLcBGAs/s640/4-agreements.png" width="540" /></a></div>
<br />
I have seen this several times in the last couple of years. It's well worth reminding ourselves of how we should be living our lives.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
To help me, I just ordered this wonderful <a href="https://amzn.to/2MzErb9" target="_blank">bookmark from Amazon</a>.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fxLG2fM6WBY/XP12wWZoGAI/AAAAAAAALE4/o9jH0b0JPoc4xcSAVekRcnj4_llwoQGawCLcBGAs/s1600/4-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="714" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fxLG2fM6WBY/XP12wWZoGAI/AAAAAAAALE4/o9jH0b0JPoc4xcSAVekRcnj4_llwoQGawCLcBGAs/s400/4-1.jpg" width="176" /></a> <a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H6rL-yeT5Jk/XP12waGYckI/AAAAAAAALE0/FHfm4QuXZS0QR8DlSjnk5pef6neOf0SSgCLcBGAs/s1600/4-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="678" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H6rL-yeT5Jk/XP12waGYckI/AAAAAAAALE0/FHfm4QuXZS0QR8DlSjnk5pef6neOf0SSgCLcBGAs/s400/4-2.jpg" width="167" /></a></div>
<br />
You can also buy his book(s) on Amazon. The Kindle Version of <i><a href="https://amzn.to/2F1M83B" target="_blank">The Four Agreements</a></i> being only $2.99! I just ordered the hardcover version for myself. I think this would make a wonderful gift as well. Don't you?<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-42992958543907252722019-06-10T00:07:00.004-04:002019-06-14T10:54:48.799-04:00Sunday Photo Fiction: Off Grid<i><span style="color: #990000;">My contribution to <a href="https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2019/06/09/sunday-photo-fiction-june-9-2019/" target="_blank">Sunday Photo Fiction</a> in 200 words or less:</span></i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://sundayphotofictioner.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/tent-1-of-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="554" data-original-width="476" height="400" src="https://sundayphotofictioner.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/tent-1-of-1.jpg" width="342" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding</td></tr>
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"Where is it?" she asked as she plowed through our gear.<br />
<br />
"Where's what?" I asked, obviously clueless<br />
<br />
She paused, glared at me, then continued pulling out each and every item in the bags. "You said you'd pack for me. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you."<br />
<a name='more'></a>She continued muttering without giving me an answer. I knew better than to push it so I tiptoed out of the tent, hoping she wouldn't notice I was gone. I looked at the forest around us. So beautiful. The silence was amazing. Okay, not silence, but the sounds of civilization were gone, replaced with the chirping of birds and insects. A soft breeze ruffled my air and I inhaled. Fresh air, no pollution. How could it be any better?<br />
<br />
Listening to the ranting inside the tent, it was time to face the music. Just as I turned to re-enter, she shouted, "I found it!" Saved by the bell.<br />
<br />
I stuck my head inside to see her holding her bag of makeup and hair products in one hand and her hair dryer and curling iron in the other. She looked around with a frown, turned to me and asked, "Where do I plug these in?"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/35f32d01cfbf467ab3c22f451beb6811" target="_blank">Click for more stories!</a></td></tr>
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-71546103876693712942019-06-09T05:00:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:40:29.486-04:00Sunday Snippets: Jun 9 2019<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TXGKMWYkLJc/XNDETdwNe4I/AAAAAAAAK5c/SQ3risrxnCovoiNxwr7PaoJWDIJ9wwOkgCLcBGAs/s1600/Sunday%2BSnippets%2B%25283%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="400" height="135" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TXGKMWYkLJc/XNDETdwNe4I/AAAAAAAAK5c/SQ3risrxnCovoiNxwr7PaoJWDIJ9wwOkgCLcBGAs/s200/Sunday%2BSnippets%2B%25283%2529.png" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a> Wow, my third Sunday snippet. Think I can keep it up? I am trying but having added in an every Friday photo prompt writing challenge plus writing my own story for that, things are busy here!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awSKbHrkQf8/XOnXGr6ojtI/AAAAAAAAK_4/eaeVzwCL3cMQNjjHHTZ-WR-LVVEwO_ubgCLcBGAs/s1600/expressions-francaises-1300623_640.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awSKbHrkQf8/XOnXGr6ojtI/AAAAAAAAK_4/eaeVzwCL3cMQNjjHHTZ-WR-LVVEwO_ubgCLcBGAs/s200/expressions-francaises-1300623_640.png" width="200" /></a><br />
It's been hot here in middle Tennessee. Yes, I know it's been hot in a lot of locations but temps in the 90s aren't the norm for where we live. We are up on the Cumberland Plateau and throughout the entire summer we normally experience no more than 7-10 scattered days in the 90s.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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Oh, did I mention that I'm NOT a fan of being hot? If you're cold, you can always put on more layers. But if you're hot, you can only take off so much - and you still sweat!<br />
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The good news is it finally cooled down to normal spring temps and just in time for a terrific motorcycle ride to benefit our local volunteer fire department. You can see more photos and the trip route <a href="https://froggi.smugmug.com/Home-in-Tennessee/2019-TN-Home/2019-06-June/2019-06-01-Clarkrange-FD-Benefit-Ride/" target="_blank">HERE</a>.<br />
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It was also nice enough for me to actually work out on our deck. Hubby and the #2doods loved it as well.<br />
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<a href="https://froggi.smugmug.com/Home-in-Tennessee/2019-TN-Home/2019-06-June/2019-06-01-Around-Home-in-TN/i-tLnHHwq/A"><img alt="" height="300" src="https://photos.smugmug.com/Home-in-Tennessee/2019-TN-Home/2019-06-June/2019-06-01-Around-Home-in-TN/i-tLnHHwq/0/b02b2cb4/M/2019-06-03%2013.08.09-M.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I finally got our hummingbird feeders up and within an hour there were two males fighting over the territory.<br />
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<a href="https://froggi.smugmug.com/Home-in-Tennessee/2019-TN-Home/2019-06-June/2019-06-01-Around-Home-in-TN/i-n28K998/A"><img alt="" height="400" src="https://photos.smugmug.com/Home-in-Tennessee/2019-TN-Home/2019-06-June/2019-06-01-Around-Home-in-TN/i-n28K998/0/9e828cac/L/2019-06-03%2013.08.40-L.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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If you've been keeping up to date, you know I've been writing a lot of flash fiction. I hope you have been enjoying it. If you're having a hard time keeping up (forgetting to check in daily to see what's new), there are multiple ways to keep up.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BA-DHu2y7uI/XPlxHNJLnoI/AAAAAAAALCg/LqBBe_nx4PIOmBRYg8RTY-1r89QBqXTfgCEwYBhgL/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-06-06%2Bat%2B2.57.17%2BPM.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1281" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BA-DHu2y7uI/XPlxHNJLnoI/AAAAAAAALCg/LqBBe_nx4PIOmBRYg8RTY-1r89QBqXTfgCEwYBhgL/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-06-06%2Bat%2B2.57.17%2BPM.jpeg" width="186" /></a>If you have a Google account, you can just click the BLUE follow button and you'll receive updates of this blog's posts in your reading list on <a href="http://blogger.com/">Blogger.com</a>. <br />
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You can also enter your email address to receive an email copy of each blog post (just remember to come here to enter your comments - which are MUCH appreciated). <br />
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And finally, you can subscribe to the feed via an RSS reader. There are many free apps for phones & tablets as well as free online sites where you can set up and read your feed. This is a wonderful way to follow multiple blogs and yes, it's what I do (since I follow up to 200 blogs at times).<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="https://zapier.com/blog/best-rss-feed-reader-apps/" target="_blank">The 10 Best RSS Reader Apps</a></li>
<li><a href="https://www.lifewire.com/top-free-online-rss-readers-3486649" target="_blank">Top 6 Free Online RSS Readers</a></li>
</ul>
<br />
I use Inoreader on my laptop since it provided an easy way to move my apps over from the old Google RSS Reader. On my iPhone and iPad Mini, I use Feedler Pro (not free) since it provided what I needed.<br />
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So give it a whirl using one of these methods and don't miss any more posts! Oh, and remember, you can use the Blog Archive links to scroll through posts AND you can always use the <i>OLDER POST</i> and <i>NEWER POST</i> links at the bottom of every post.<br />
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My "other" writing? Well, I am joining in <a href="http://campnanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">Camp NaNoWriMo</a> for the month of July. The goal is 2500 words a day and a complete first draft of <i>Paradise Dream</i>, book four in the <a href="https://amzn.to/2Bzkko0" target="_blank">C'Mon Inn Mystery series</a>. Wish me luck!<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-55066570295948099122019-06-07T03:00:00.001-04:002019-06-10T12:39:57.901-04:00#fotoflash Jun 7 2019: Rituals<i><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My contribution to <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/06/friday-foto-flash-fiction-jun-7-2019.html" target="_blank">Friday Foto Flash Fiction</a>...<br />
</span></i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bwi7ORNoPDQ/XO11wuCupbI/AAAAAAAALAs/fxJRiWYl60gkgavzbi6QCzGnLB_5I8XaQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/foto-flash-sher-waterfall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="404" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bwi7ORNoPDQ/XO11wuCupbI/AAAAAAAALAs/fxJRiWYl60gkgavzbi6QCzGnLB_5I8XaQCPcBGAYYCw/s640/foto-flash-sher-waterfall.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Sheri Waddell</td></tr>
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It was time and Nofoto was ready. She'd been ready for months. No, years. She'd been groomed for this moment since birth. The ladies around her bowed and backed away. She'd been pampered, perfumed and dressed. Flowers adorned her hair, her body was encased in a ceremonial robe and multiple scarves.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
She wasn't afraid. The Goddess had prepared her for this path. Outside the cavern entrance, the beating of the drums began. Their tempo increased and grew in intensity. An outsider might call them frenzied. At just the right moment she stepped forward and stood under the cascading waterfalls.<br />
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Her people cheered and tossed flower petals into the waters swirling below her. The drums continued, louder and more strident, calling to her. She held her arms up, closed her eyes, and chanted. The crowd below joined in creating a choir of epic proportions. The musical opera filtered through the trees surrounding them, rose to the mountain tops, and echoed far away.<br />
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Then all sounds ceased. She dropped her arms, opened her eyes, and smiled at the vista below. Nofoto watched as the <a href="http://www.lessonsite.com/ArchivePages/WorldCulturesVersion2/Lesson22/lesson_22_south_africa_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_page_1.html" target="_blank">Isangoma</a> stepped to the forefront. The <a href="http://www.lessonsite.com/ArchivePages/WorldCulturesVersion2/Lesson22/lesson_22_south_africa_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_page_1.html" target="_blank">Isangoma</a> danced, joined by the drums. A chant arose from the dancing figure and she joined in harmony.<br />
<br />
Two women carried a litter with a young child on it to the front of the group, placing it beside the <a href="http://www.lessonsite.com/ArchivePages/WorldCulturesVersion2/Lesson22/lesson_22_south_africa_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_page_1.html" target="_blank">Isangoma</a>. Nofoto's voice grew stronger as it merged into the same words being sung by the <a href="http://www.lessonsite.com/ArchivePages/WorldCulturesVersion2/Lesson22/lesson_22_south_africa_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_page_1.html" target="_blank">Isangoma</a>. The women in the group joined the chorus as the men formed a circle around them.<br />
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A wind whistled through the trees, gaining strength as the voices grew louder. All the women began to dance and Nofoto whirled on the ledge overhead. The chaotic scene continued for over an hour until both Nofot and the <a href="http://www.lessonsite.com/ArchivePages/WorldCulturesVersion2/Lesson22/lesson_22_south_africa_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_page_1.html" target="_blank">Isangoma</a> sank to the ground.<br />
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The child let out a cry and his mother shouted in joy. "He is healed!"<br />
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Nofoto raised her head and shared her happy tears with those assembled below. The <a href="http://www.lessonsite.com/ArchivePages/WorldCulturesVersion2/Lesson22/lesson_22_south_africa_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_page_1.html" target="_blank">Isangoma</a> stood, raised her hand and pointed at to the sky. Nofoto knew she had passed the final test. She was now in line to be the next <a href="http://www.lessonsite.com/ArchivePages/WorldCulturesVersion2/Lesson22/lesson_22_south_africa_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_rituals_and_the_zulu_isangoma_page_1.html" target="_blank">Isangoma</a>.<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-80945280097110336372019-06-07T03:00:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:37:48.201-04:00Friday Foto Flash Fiction: Jun 7 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #990000;"><i>Welcome to Friday Foto Flash Fiction! Each Friday I will post a new picture to be used as inspiration for your flash fiction written in 500 words or less. Be sure to include the photo, the source credit, and a link to this post with your story. Once it's live, add your link to the list below. Be sure to visit the other entries (and check back often for new stories) and leave them a comment in appreciation. Entries will close on Thursday at midnight Eastern Time. </i></span><i style="color: #990000;">Thank you and enjoy!</i><br />
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<b><i>Be sure to visit all the entries from last week's #fotoflash prompt.</i></b><br />
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<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">1.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://www.quaintrevival.com/the-magic-of-girls-day-dreaming/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Shelley at Quaint Revival</a> </span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">3.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://tessacandoit.com/2019/05/31/friday-fotoflash-may-31-2019/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Tessa</a> </span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">5.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://caydhilliardadventures.blogspot.com/2019/06/contemplation.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Cay D Hilliard</a> </span></td></tr>
<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">2.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="http://dcstultz.blogspot.com/2019/05/lifes-lessons-fotoflash-entry-for-donna.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">DC Stultz</a> </span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">4.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/05/fotoflash-may-31-2019-edge.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">DB McNicol</a></span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">6.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><span class="blenza-label" id="nextone-24May2019" style="display: inline;"><a class="blenza-link" href="https://eastelmhurstagogo.wordpress.com/2019/05/31/just-my-imagination-running-away-with-me/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;">Larry Trasciatti</a></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bwi7ORNoPDQ/XO11wuCupbI/AAAAAAAALAo/E7nPELleukkAfdOnMH1jC_d4RupIZknyACLcBGAs/s1600/foto-flash-sher-waterfall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="404" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bwi7ORNoPDQ/XO11wuCupbI/AAAAAAAALAo/E7nPELleukkAfdOnMH1jC_d4RupIZknyACLcBGAs/s640/foto-flash-sher-waterfall.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Sheri Waddell<br />
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<br />Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-77340643800344417852019-06-05T19:57:00.003-04:002019-06-10T12:37:22.088-04:00Friday Fictioneers: FourteenMy contribution to <a href="https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/06/05/28-june-2019/" target="_blank">Rochelle Wisoff-Field's Friday Fictioneers</a>...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" src="https://rochellewisofffields.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/ceayr-3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="600" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PHOTO PROMPT © Ceayr</td></tr>
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"...twelve, thirteen, fourteen!" he announced proudly. "I'm fourteen and our new home has fourteen steps. Isn't that the best?"<br />
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She smile and ruffled his hair before unlocking the front door. This was to be their dream home. But then again, the last one was supposed to be, and the three before that. They'd had to move and hide over and over, but this time, this time it would work. She was sure of it.<br />
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"Come in and check out your bed-" She stopped short.<br />
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"Hi, Glenda. I see you brought my boy home to me." He had found them again.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/fdb31acbbcf64240a90eed1048147374" target="_blank">Click the frog, please!</a></td></tr>
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-83580977102311481432019-06-03T19:11:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:37:07.399-04:00#FOWC: Ludicrous Nonsense<i><span style="color: #990000;">For <a href="https://fivedotoh.com/2019/06/03/fowc-with-fandango-ludicrous/" target="_blank">Fandango's One Word Challenge</a> (FOWC)... Today's word is LUDICROUS and it immediately brought to mind this photo and the little story I wrote to go with it.</span></i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="462" data-original-width="614" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VGzsa07JHtQ/T1gCof6xUII/AAAAAAAAAIk/B92xYjnIogo/s640/nonsense-1.jpg" width="600" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">{<span style="color: #888888; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.4px;">source</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 15.4px;">}</span></td></tr>
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Silly nonsense, that's all it was. Making faces, taunting each other to see who would laugh first. They never paid attention to their mom in the background, admonishing them, “Your face is gonna freeze like that one day.” No, they knew everything. I mean after all, they were four years old now.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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A year passed and the game had gotten a little more, well, mean is the only word. One of the boys had started to bully the littlest with his words and not so funny faces. Hurt, the little one went home crying to his elderly grandmother. She was from the old country and had different ways of dealing with things. She gave him some words to say the next time he felt threatened and promised him that would take care of the bully.<br />
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As expected, the bully started his attack but not expected, his victim uttered some nonsensical words and the bully stopped in his tracks, his silly expression frozen forever on his face.<br />
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<i><span style="color: #990000;">*originally posted in my <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2012/04/nonsense-to-z-blog-hop.html" target="_blank">2012 A to Z challenge</a></span></i></div>
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-53575255474023545652019-06-02T17:19:00.002-04:002019-06-10T12:36:48.157-04:00Sunday Photo Fiction: Perceptions<i><span style="color: #990000;">My contribution to <a href="https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Sunday Photo Fiction.</a>..</span></i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://sundayphotofictioner.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/reena-saxena-edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="252" height="640" src="https://sundayphotofictioner.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/reena-saxena-edited.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Reena Saxena</td></tr>
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He skidded a stop in front of the bench, stopping just in time to avoid the others already in line. His feet were soaked, his umbrella turned inside out and now useless. Not one for small talk, he studied his new companions.<br />
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Three women, two men. The men were both dressed in suits and pull-on rubbers over their dress shoes. One woman was also dressed professionally but she was wearing sneakers. He suspected her heels were in the briefcase slung over her shoulder.<br />
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The two other women were more interesting. He tried to figure out if they were mother and daughter. No, the closer he looked, they were probably grandmother and granddaughter. The older woman leaned on a cane and seemed a bit feeble. The younger kept her hand around her elder's arm and she was completely focused on the conversation.<br />
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Intrigued, he crept closer in an attempt to eavesdrop. The words were almost whispered...<br />
<br />
"...and then he hit me over and over."<br />
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"That won't happen again. We're moving you to a safe house. He won't be able to find you."<br />
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Taken aback, he increased his distance. Who would have thought the older woman was rescuing the younger?<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-63125040594128229282019-05-31T04:12:00.000-04:002019-06-10T16:21:52.577-04:00#fotoflash May 31 2019: The Edge<span style="color: #990000;"><i>My contribution to <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/05/friday-foto-flash-fiction-may-31-2019.html" target="_blank">Friday Foto Flash Fiction</a>...</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NNETgQECK1Y/XOSQIv6HRYI/AAAAAAAAK90/TtGOIFAutecUuYzAtauNbJv0rcWJ0XiDwCLcBGAs/s640/hanging-feet.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://morguefile.com/p/1111763" target="_blank">Photo Credit</a></i></td></tr>
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It didn't look so far down when he was looking up at the ledge. But he wasn't one to back down from a dare. Definitely not from a double dare! It had taken all his will power to climb up this high. His hands were clenched as he dropped his legs over the edge. His friends jumped up and down, shouting his name and cheering.<br />
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He wanted to wave back but that would mean releasing a handhold and he wasn't ready to do that. He watched them dance around for a bit, talking to each other. Next thing he knew, they waved and walked back towards town.<br />
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That was okay with him. He had grown comfortable with his perch and was enjoying the view. He thought he could see for ten miles, maybe more! Over there was his neighborhood where he had spent all of his ten years of life. From there he located his school, the mall, and the town hall. A slight breeze cooled his face, warm from facing the afternoon sun.<br />
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Time passed quickly and he realized it was dusk and would soon be dark. Time to get down. Um, down? How to get down now that he was up here? His hands felt glued to the cold stone. Panic set in and he started to hyperventilate.<br />
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This wasn't the first time he'd had a panic attack. He pursed his lips and breathed in and out slowly to a count of twenty. Then he did some deep belly breathing for another thirty seconds. He felt his breathing slow and his pulse as well. Eventually he dozed off.<br />
<br />
He was dreaming - as in many of his dreams, he was flying. Fleeing unseen enemies. He never woke when he hit the water.<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-63313023428996963742019-05-31T03:00:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:36:26.283-04:00Friday Foto Flash Fiction: May 31 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #990000;"><i>Welcome to Friday Foto Flash Fiction! Each Friday I will post a new picture to be used as inspiration for your flash fiction written in 500 words or less. Be sure to include the photo, the source credit, and a link to this post with your story. Once it's live, add your link to the list below. Be sure to visit the other entries (and check back often for new stories) and leave them a comment in appreciation. Entries will close on Thursday at midnight Eastern Time. </i></span><i style="color: #990000;">Thank you and enjoy!</i><br />
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<b><i>Be sure to visit all the entries from last week's #fotoflash prompt.</i></b><br />
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<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">1.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://keithsramblings.net/2019/05/24/my-first-contribution/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Keith's Ramblings </a></span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">4.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2019/05/24/friday-foto-flash-fiction/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Di@ pensitivity101</a> </span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">7.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://caydhilliardadventures.blogspot.com/2019/05/fotoflash-may-24-2019-alley-photo.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Cay D Hilliard</a> </span></td></tr>
<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">2.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://www.quaintrevival.com/a-friday-stroll-to-my-humble-abode/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Shelley at Quaint Revival</a> </span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">5.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="http://dcstultz.blogspot.com/2019/05/hello-american-cowboy-fotoflash-entry.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">DC Stultz</a> </span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"></td></tr>
<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">3.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/05/fotoflash-may-24-2019-alley.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Donna McNicol, author</a> </span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">6.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://tessacandoit.com/2019/05/26/friday-fotoflash-may-24-2019/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Tessa</a> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Credit: <a href="https://morguefile.com/p/1111763">https://morguefile.com/p/1111763</a></i><br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-14942071704369767202019-05-30T17:46:00.002-04:002019-06-10T12:36:11.614-04:00Friday Fictioneers: Resourceful<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://rochellewisofffields.files.wordpress.com/2019/03/finding-a-signal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="652" data-original-width="800" src="https://rochellewisofffields.files.wordpress.com/2019/03/finding-a-signal.jpg" width="520" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Eames</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><i>My contribution to <a href="https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/05/29/31-may-2019/" target="_blank">Friday Fictioneers</a>....</i></span><br />
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"Come down from there, right now!" She stomped her feet in the sand, accomplishing nothing.<br />
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"Not yet. I've almost got him."<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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"You're going to fall." It was every mother's worst fear.<br />
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"Shhhh...."<br />
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Fuming, she muttered to herself as she paced under the bent palm tree.<br />
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"Got him! Be right down." He shimmied backwards down the limb, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he landed. He held out his hands. "Look!"<br />
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She jumped back as his catch wiggled and almost got free. "Careful. You're not planning on bringing that thing inside, are you?"<br />
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"Dinner, mom. *Chicken of the trees!"<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>*<a href="https://www.wtxl.com/news/chicken-of-the-trees-people-are-eating-iguanas-in-florida/article_7f28964c-7c91-11e8-b554-375b0d57dae8.html" target="_blank">Referenc: Eating Iguana</a> </i></div>
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-29575487035454286452019-05-29T17:00:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:36:03.325-04:00100 Word Wednesday: Stranded #100WW<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="https://bikurgurl.com/" target="_blank">Bikurgurl</a></td></tr>
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Day 20: Bus still won't move. At least there is water nearby. No cell reception but battery already dead.<br />
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Day 99: Still no way to move this thing. I did catch a squirrel this morning so there will be dinner tonight.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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Day 123: Turned my skateboard into a swing. Love swinging and watching the sunset.<br />
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Day 150: The squirrels are thinning out. Winter will be here soon.<br />
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Day 199: All squirrels gone. Nothing else to eat.<br />
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Day 200: My plan - go out while on my swing, my happy place. Remember me and emember, no four-wheeling in an old bus!<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-72816140267326203792019-05-28T12:57:00.001-04:002019-06-10T12:35:53.730-04:00#FFFC - The Last Stop<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fivedotoh.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/c373d3b0-ad6f-4387-aa87-e4c800f3e76e.jpeg?w=1272" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="266" src="https://fivedotoh.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/c373d3b0-ad6f-4387-aa87-e4c800f3e76e.jpeg?w=1272" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruno Aquirre@unsplash.com</td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">From <a href="https://fivedotoh.com/2019/05/27/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-15/" target="_blank">Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge</a>...</span></i><br />
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"I told you we should have stopped earlier."<br />
<br />
"But the sign says it's open."<br />
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"But it's not! I mean, look. There's no lights, no sign of life. It's like no one has been here for years."<br />
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"Well, we can still rest. And pee..."<br />
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"You can maybe. I'm not peeing out here in the open. You guys have it made, not like us ladies."<br />
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He snorted. "Open both the doors on your side and use them as a screen."<br />
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"What, and have to walk in my own pee?"<br />
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She shuddered. He shrugged.<br />
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"Suit yourself." He unzipped his fly and took care of business before getting back into the car.<br />
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"Now what?" she demanded.<br />
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"I guess I need to see if those gas pumps will work."<br />
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"You're an idiot. Don't you remember that power outage last summer? No power, no gas."<br />
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"It's worth a try."<br />
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She crossed her arms and frowned. "Feel free. I'm gonna wait right here."<br />
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Not one to be proven wrong, he examined the pumps. They were old school but they definitely weren't in working order. Seeing his wife wasn't watching, he decided to wander around the building and see what he could find.<br />
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Ten minutes later he returned. She looked up as she heard him open the trunk of the car and put something inside. She twisted her head for a better look but he'd disappeared. In a couple of minutes he came around the side of the building with two ancient gas cans that he proceeded to empty into the gas tank of the car.<br />
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He sat down with a smug look. "Told you I'd take care of it."<br />
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Ten miles down the road the car sputtered to a stop in the middle of the desert. She looked at him and smiled sweetly. "Guess old gas isn't better than no gas."<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-9771625418582450672019-05-28T12:06:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:35:49.677-04:00Sunday Photo Fiction: The Climb<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://sundayphotofictioner.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/dscf8652.jpg?w=1440&h=1080" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="300" src="https://sundayphotofictioner.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/dscf8652.jpg?w=1440&h=1080" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666;">Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding</span></i></td></tr>
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<i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">for <a href="https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Sunday Photo Fiction</a> in 200 words or less</span></i><br />
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His calloused hands didn't feel the pain inflicted by the rough stones as he climbed upward. Seeking the best hand and foot holds, he took his time. Scaling a wall like this wasn't for the inexperienced or the faint-hearted. He'd been doing it for years. This was his favorite climb due to the fact no one else ever ventured there.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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He took a swig of water from his dented canteen. It was older than he was, passed from grandfather to father and finally to him, the son. So many memories made, so many shared, and yet, so many kept private.<br />
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He wiped the sweat from his forehead. The sun was dropping low and soon the temperature would as well. He knew he needed to step up his pace if he wanted to reach the summit before sunset, his favorite time of day.<br />
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He took a deep breath and continued till he reached the top. To the unknowing it was a peak. But anyone who had been there knew there was a small flat spot just big enough to sit on comfortably.<br />
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He settled in and waited for <i>his</i> sunset.<br />
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It took the search party several weeks to locate his body.<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-42419534183934229532019-05-26T07:30:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:34:21.652-04:00Sunday Snippets: May 26, 2019<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TXGKMWYkLJc/XNDETdwNe4I/AAAAAAAAK5c/SQ3risrxnCovoiNxwr7PaoJWDIJ9wwOkgCLcBGAs/s1600/Sunday%2BSnippets%2B%25283%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="400" height="135" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TXGKMWYkLJc/XNDETdwNe4I/AAAAAAAAK5c/SQ3risrxnCovoiNxwr7PaoJWDIJ9wwOkgCLcBGAs/s200/Sunday%2BSnippets%2B%25283%2529.png" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a>Well, we made it to the second edition of Sunday Snippets. It's been a busy couple of weeks but I think the majority of our medical appointments are finally over with. I've actually gotten in a little writing - okay, so it's all been blog writing, but that's a start. I'm having to take a deeper look into my characters for the new "Ask a Character" posts. So, if you've read any of my books, feel free to leave a comment with a question for your favorite (or least favorite) character and I'll do my best to answer it in a future post.<br />
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Remember the reason for today, Memorial Day. Honoring those who gave their life for our freedoms.<br />
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We did try to see the International Space Station as it passed over our area on the night of the 18th. We had light clouds and a gorgeous full moon. We think we saw the ISS as it scooted by overhead!<br />
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As an author, I tend to have a lot of Facebook friends who are also authors. Some I have been privileged to meet, others not. But I've been involved with them online for several years and followed them both personally and professionally.<br />
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One such author is <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Alive-Holli-Spaulding-ebook/dp/B00K21NCVQ?fbclid=IwAR1B0JBU_NJR8IyXeleZWPMQD-69hLE3wrowqUfj5dxxWMkrsyVXvxOCBIo" target="_blank">Holli Spaulding</a>. Recently she decided to fulfill her dream of owning a coffee shop and used book store. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Present-Tense-Coffee-and-Books-2052580708204081/" target="_blank">Present Tense Coffee and Books</a> is located in Green Cove Springs, FL. She offers both new and used books as well as delicious coffee and fresh pastries.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c_VX3_1rBEw/XOBauy8luwI/AAAAAAAAK8A/rhp91_-8GqsnTVNZyu5Jm0Zi5hAZKjW_ACLcBGAs/s1600/1-Present-Tense.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="808" data-original-width="960" height="336" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c_VX3_1rBEw/XOBauy8luwI/AAAAAAAAK8A/rhp91_-8GqsnTVNZyu5Jm0Zi5hAZKjW_ACLcBGAs/s400/1-Present-Tense.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Many of her fellow authors donated books to help her get started and I was no exception.<br />
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In other sundry snippets, I started my own flash fiction word prompt series this week. <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html" target="_blank">Friday Foto Flash Fiction</a> - I hope anyone who likes to write will give it a try. Each picture prompt is open for submissions for a week. <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/05/friday-foto-flash-fiction-may-24-2019.html" target="_blank">Here is the prompt for this week</a> and <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/05/fotoflash-may-24-2019-alley.html" target="_blank">here is my story</a> but I hope you will also read/comment on the other submissions I've listed below.<br />
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<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">1.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://keithsramblings.net/2019/05/24/my-first-contribution/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Keith's Ramblings</a></span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">4.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2019/05/24/friday-foto-flash-fiction/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Di @ pensitivity101</a></span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">7.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">You're next!</span></td></tr>
<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">2.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://www.quaintrevival.com/a-friday-stroll-to-my-humble-abode/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Shelley at Quaint Revival</a></span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">5.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="http://dcstultz.blogspot.com/2019/05/hello-american-cowboy-fotoflash-entry.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">DC Stultz</a></span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"></td></tr>
<tr style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;"><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">3.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/05/fotoflash-may-24-2019-alley.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Donna McNicol, author</a></span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="5%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;">6.</span></td><td align="left" class="blenza-td" style="border: 0px !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" valign="top" width="28%"><span class="blenza-link" style="color: teal;"><a href="https://tessacandoit.com/2019/05/26/friday-fotoflash-may-24-2019/" rel="nofollow" style="color: teal; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Tessa</a></span></td></tr>
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<br />
Watch for interviews various characters in both my book series - <a href="https://amzn.to/2x7d93D" target="_blank">Klondike Mysteries</a> & <a href="https://amzn.to/2Bzkko0" target="_blank">C'Mon Inn Mysteries</a>. Let me know if you have a favorite you'd like to have interviewed or any questions you would like asked.<br />
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Final note - our transplanted rose bushes are growing. Guess it's true, you can't kill them!<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-65358767968293933092019-05-25T08:00:00.000-04:002019-05-28T12:12:05.951-04:00Distraction vs Focus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-51536790746166294842019-05-24T13:15:00.001-04:002019-06-10T12:34:03.364-04:00Back of my hand...I was reading blogs this morning and ran across a <a href="https://fivedotoh.com/2019/05/23/like-the-back-of-my-hand-challenge/" target="_blank">rather random challenge</a> - share a photo of the back of your hand. Why not? So I grabbed a picture of my hand on my mouse for my laptop.<br />
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It's definitely an old lady hand. Age spots, wrinkles, and prominent veins. I've always had large knuckles and prominent veins but they seem to become more so every day. But it's my hand and it works quite well, thank you.<br />
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How about it? You game? Snap a pic and share away!! What do you have to lose...<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963015679650968932.post-60069266530619571342019-05-24T05:00:00.000-04:002019-06-10T12:33:50.772-04:00#fotoflash May 24 2019: The Alley<span style="color: #990000;"><i>My contribution to <a href="https://dbmcnicol.blogspot.com/2019/05/friday-foto-flash-fiction-may-24-2019.html" target="_blank">Friday Foto Flash Fiction</a>...</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oslaIP9aUSU/XOSJg0N-25I/AAAAAAAAK9o/KB8HChkASIMa1QV7kiYxAUkZC8yL2FsYgCLcBGAs/s1600/stone-homes-alley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oslaIP9aUSU/XOSJg0N-25I/AAAAAAAAK9o/KB8HChkASIMa1QV7kiYxAUkZC8yL2FsYgCLcBGAs/s640/stone-homes-alley.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo: <a href="https://morguefile.com/p/1109948">https://morguefile.com/p/1109948</a></i></td></tr>
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Lettie dug the hand drawn map out of her purse, turned it left and right, trying to make sense out of the instructions. Looking ahead, all she saw was an alleyway that seemed to get narrower. She had tried to ask directions at the cafe earlier but the language barrier was too steep. Dead phone battery meant no Google translate.<br />
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Stuffing it away, she sighed and trudged onward, hoping to see something familiar. After all, how difficult could it be to find the family home? She'd seen pictures and listened to stories about the neighborhood for years.<br />
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A beeping sound startled her and she turned around to face someone on a little scooter.<br />
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"I'm sorry," she apologized as she moved to the side.<br />
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"Grazie," a deep masculine voice responded but didn't move.<br />
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Taking a chance, she asked, "Mi puoi aiutare?", hoping she was saying it correctly. No response so she added, "Do you speak English?"<br />
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"Sì."<br />
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She pulled the map out again and showed it to him. "I want to find this place." She pointed to a spot on the map. "Do you know where it is?"<br />
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"Sì." Then in heavily accented English, "Get on back. I take you."<br />
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Glancing around and seeing no one else who could help, she shrugged and climbed on board.<br />
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"Hold on," he commanded as they motored down the alley.<br />
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She didn't need to be told twice, the cobblestones made for quite a bouncy ride.<br />
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Twenty minutes later, they were still winding down alleyways. The sun was setting and she was getting worried. Tapping him on the shoulder, she shouted, "Are we almost there?"<br />
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"Soon, cara signora! Soon."<br />
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"Okay." She felt drowsy and closed her eyes. The screech of brakes startled her awake. The sun was gone and a smidgen of moon lit the sky. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she asked, "We there?"<br />
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"Sorry, signora. I got us lost. This friend house. We stay. Tomorrow we go your house."<br />
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With no good alternative, she agreed and entered the tiny stone house. She gasped. The inside was charming. A roaring fire warmed the rustic but cozy room. A wizened lady came forward and took her arm. As she offered her name, she realized she had never introduced herself to her driver. She turned but he was nowhere in sight. "Where-"<br />
<br />
The woman put her hands beside her cheek and simulated sleeping. She pulled her into a tiny room and nodded at the single bed and pointed to her. "Letto. Vai a dormire." She left and closed the door.<br />
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The sun peeking through the curtains woke her. She stretched and tried to remember where she was and why she was there. A knock on the door accompanied by a deep voiced good morning, brought her back to reality. She tossed on her clothes and opened the door.<br />
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"Lady of the house, she said your house gone."<br />
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"That can't be! She's mistaken."<br />
<br />
"No mistake. Boom! No more house."<br />
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"I guess I have to go home."<br />
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"No, stay. Guest. Welcome here. New home!"<br />
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She smiled. "My new home. Italia!"<br />
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Donna B. McNicolhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15209611782116113024noreply@blogger.com12