Quick one page stories you will love.

She loved Fall…

She loved the clouds…the dead leaves…the cold wind…the bleakness…and then later…the quietening snow of Winter.

There was a lake close to where she lived.  The path that meandered around it was seldom used now that Summer was just a memory.

Most people had chosen to huddle inside until warmer, sunnier days returned in the Spring.

But not her.  She loved this time of the year…and she loved the peacefulness of walking alone.  She liked people…but she didn’t need them…not always.

Sometimes she just needed herself…like today.

The trees were now completely bare, the grass was brown and dead leaves were whispering about…

She scuffed them with her shoes as she walked…the sound echoing in the silence around her.

She wandered out onto a deserted, wooden fishing bridge.  During the hot, sultry days of Summer it held children fishing…coached by patient grandfathers…perhaps…

It was not bitterly cold…not yet…but it was chilly and the wind was getting stronger.  It blew her raggedy blonde hair around and made her eyes water.

She probably should have worn that extra sweater under her jacket…

But…there was no one to encourage her to do so…so she hadn’t.  There was someone…once…a long, long time ago.

Dark clouds scudded overhead and she knew it wouldn’t be long before the leaves she had just been crunching beneath her shoes would soon be buried under layers and layers of silent snow.

She didn’t want to leave…not just yet…she leaned over the wooden railing and looked down into the still, dark water.

There were no fish swimming today…

She saw only her own reflection…dark brown eyes, flecked with gold…narrowed slightly as if asking a question…what?…what?

She was okay with being alone.  This cold, grey day was somehow strangely and inexplicably pleasing to her.

And…because she couldn’t quite yet leave all this behind, she leaned even harder against the railing…seeming to “settle in”…trying to capture and hold this day…this time…this feeling and keep it with her…forever.

The railing was old yet seemed sturdy…but she was young and she didn’t have time to worry about the sturdiness of objects she may be leaning against and then…

Someone from behind her said, “Be careful there, kiddo, I think I see a couple of cracks in that railing.”

She quietly chuckled to herself and then softly murmured, “kiddo…”

The lovely old man in the apartment down the hall from her used to call her “kiddo” all the time…

…until he died last month.  She missed him…a lot.

So, when she turned around, she expected to find someone very much older than herself…

…someone who would worry about wood and/or railing safety.

But instead, she saw a young man…probably not much older than she was…bundled up against the cold weather…unlike her…who was not.

Then the wind blew hard across the lake and she was suddenly very cold and she shivered a little…not a lot…just a little.

“You should have worn a scarf…” he earnestly offered…followed by a tentative, helpful smile…

Then he hesitated before saying more…because he knew…

He knew full well…that he should not be telling this complete stranger…what to do or how to be.  But somehow, he couldn’t stay quiet…

“Or a hat…”

Six weeks later they got married…and it snowed.  And that was fine…

The End…

I picked up my phone and called his number.  Again.

It hadn’t changed in over 30 years.

I had called it so many times I knew it by heart…and I always ended the call before entering the last number.

But not this time.  This time…I forced myself to finish..

It rang seven times.  I waited…seven times.  My heart beating just a little faster after each ring.

And after each ring…my other hand…as it had done so many times before…moved a little to disconnect.  But not this time. 

“Hello…”

It was him!

My God…he sounded so young!  I hadn’t expected that…

Suddenly the years disappeared and we were both seventeen again and he was asking me…to go to the football game…to go to a movie…to go to dinner at Freddie’s…or…or…

…to find out if I was pregnant…and then when hearing I was not…laughing nervously with me in relief.

Now…I couldn’t speak.  I didn’t know what to say.  This was a mistake.  I had made a terrible mistake.

What if he had forgotten me?

I couldn’t bear that…my heart would shatter into a million pieces…dreams vanishing in a split second.

I had waited too long.

But then…

“Riley?”  His voice was now urgent, intense….

My hand started to shake so hard, I dropped the phone. I grabbed at it with both hands.

“How did you…?”  I whispered but was then stunned into silence.

“Oh, Riley…” he said…ever so softly…and I could tell he was starting to smile.

“I’ve kept track of you…I’ve waited for this call for so long…for you to…”   Then suddenly his voice broke and I could hear the tears in his eyes.

“Yeah?”  I could barely speak…my voice cracking as well.

“Are you…okay?”  That familiar deep voice was back…but sounding a little hesitant…perhaps wondering if he had the right to even ask…now…after all this time.

“I’m okay…” I sighed.  I could breathe again.  It would be all right.  Somehow I knew…it would be all right.

“God, I’ve missed you, Riley.”

“I’ve missed you…”

“It’s been almost 40 years…”

“I know…”  My words dropped into the depths of unspeakable anguish.  The pain of so many lost days and nights slashed like a razor into my heart and would not let me say more…

“Riley…?”

“Yeah?”  I struggled to answer as hot tears were streaming down my cheeks.

“I still love you…I still love you, Riley.”

“Yeah…me too.”

The End…

 

A very small story about life.

You know how sometimes in life…certain events just unfold that massively affect you but you have absolutely no control over them?

Like when…

Someone sneezes behind you while you are waiting in line at the cash register at your local Walgreens to purchase a bottle of Revlon’s Cherries in the Snow nail enamel…and then four days later…YOU sneeze?  Like that…

Or like when…

You are sitting in your car at an intersection waiting…ever so patiently…for the red light to change to green, and then someone crashes into you from behind…and your nose gets broken from the air bag and as blood is still streaming down your chin and onto your brand-new silk blouse…the driver of the car that has crashed into you…who happens to be a very young girl…rushes up to you as you are dazedly trying to get out of your car…and tearfully confesses to you…

“I am so, so sorry, but…but I don’t have any car insurance.”

And then…later in the ER your husband…who is so very, very sweet but at times slightly addlebrained…confesses to you that…”He is so, so sorry, BUT…” he forgot to renew YOUR car insurance?  Like that.

Or like when…

You pull a pair of your “used-to-be” favorite, old jeans out of the dryer…having just washed and dried them because you have recently lost 7 pounds and you are now really, really sure you will once again fit into them and…you do!!

…and then…when you are very, very happily slipping out of them, you discover two forgotten $20 bills in one of the pockets…and it turns out that right now…today…you really need that forty bucks?  Like that.

Or like when…

You “impulsively and later most regretfully”…tell your high school sweetheart named Jake, who loved you more than life itself…that you want to break up with him.  And, even though you never tell him why…it is because your Freshman English 101 professor at University has been asking you to come into his office on Thursday nights for some extra ‘teaching’…and you desperately want to go…even though you know he is married but you don’t care…because he is so…INTENSE and ‘DEEP’ and…CUTE!!!

However, three months later, you realize that Professor Ames is a conceited, cruel and thoughtless bastard…not to mention a hopeless alcoholic and has been asking all the girls in his Freshman English 101 class to come to his office…and so, you drop the class and never see Professor Ames ever again.

Tragically however…you feel that too much time has passed…and you are too ashamed and embarrassed to call Jake and beg him to forgive you and take you back…because you now know what you did was completely and stupidly wrong…

But then…25 years wander by and…

…one night at exactly 12:16 a.m. (and you know this because you have just looked at your watch before) you turn the corner and enter the mail room of your very large apartment building where (unbeknownst to either of you)…you both now live…

…with spouses that neither of you love anymore or even like very much…and…

Jake is standing there looking at the cover of the current issue of US Weekly and he looks up and sees you…

And…you pause for only a split second and then slowly walk the ten feet that separates the two of you…hoping with all your heart that he will open his arms to you…and he does…and neither of your lives will ever be the same again…

And…that is a good thing…

…because suddenly…all the years have melted away and he is once again that handsome 18-year-old boy who loved you without measure and transformed your young life in so many ways and you are that enchanting 17-year-old girl who cherished his love and returned it in ways that knew no bounds…

…and now both of you are together again…forever.

You know…like that.

The End.

 

 

By

Tina Nelson

It was a chilly and bleak November day in Minnesota.  Normally, I love bleak days but on this particular day I wasn’t especially happy with my life.

Too many people who should be nice to me…weren’t.

Too many people who should appreciate me…weren’t.

Too many people who should love me a lot…or even ‘just a little more’…don’t.

And the worst part about this was that I couldn’t understand why.

If I actually thought that the problem was with me, I would have done something…anything to change the situation.  But it wasn’t me.

I had spent many hours soul searching and many hours asking questions…trying to know what it was that I was doing wrong…or not doing right.  But no answers…so no solutions.

So I got into my car and took a little drive down to River’s Edge Falls, a wonderful little park in the heart of Minneapolis, to watch the icy, cold water race fiercely over the rocks and then crash down to the bottom.

It was always a soothing place for me to visit but unfortunately, I found I was coming here more often…needing more and more comfort.

Sigh.

The park was beautifully deserted.  Good.  Mondays are like that.

I could just lean against the ancient stone wall and watch the water crash down…over and over…the rhythm so relaxing and the deafening noise somehow comforting and calming.

I knew I would get my focus back…re-charge…decide the correct path and take it.  I’d figure it out…I always did.  I wasn’t born yesterday.   I had some life skills.

“Hey there little lady, how would you like to come with me to those bushes over there and warm me up on this chilly day.”

The man’s voice was mean and angry.  His words slurred.  Could I feel a tiny prick of a knife in my back…?  No matter.

As I slowly turned, I reached into my inside jacket pocket and pulled out my loaded Smith & Wesson .38 Special revolver that I always carried…because…why not?

And then I shot him through the heart.  Twice.

No one heard the shots as I watched him fall to the ground…left hand still clutching a very sharp-looking steak knife.

“Fuck …you…” he croaked as the blood flowed quickly out of his heart and in seconds he was dead.

“Apparently not…” I said and I walked back to my car.

The End

 

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MY DAD WAS NEVER WITHOUT A LIGHTED CIGARETTE DANGLING FROM HIS MOUTH…

BUT HE WASN’T COMPLETELY STUPID…

I’m not standing there because I wanted to observe the fine art of re-fueling an empty gas tank…on some deserted road…God knows where…circa 1950.

His lit cigarette is in my left hand.  Safety first!  Oh.  My.

Have a nice day…

“Did I just say “kidnapping?”

By

Tina Nelson

When you are hopelessly in love, you will do anything.

You have no control.

You are ruled by your ever demanding heart.

You ignore the rights and listen to the wrongs.

You BEG your friends at recess to help you.

Did I just say “recess”?

You show off your most attractive physical feature (in my case…my legs) by not wearing corduroy pants under your pink dress when it is terribly cold outside even though your mother told you that you’d better wear them…or else.

Did I just say “corduroy”?

You brag about a lifestyle that doesn’t exist…except for the “pancakes” part.

“Did I just say “pancakes”?

And when all that fails…you lie.

“So, Jimmy…and you too, Wesley…my mother has said I can bring two friends home for lunch today and I have picked you guys because I know you are the best of friends…and I want to be your best friend too!”

Seeing the doubt in their eyes, you recklessly continue…

“My mother makes the best pancakes in the world!!”

And so on that Spring day in 1950 at noon, me, Jimmy (dearest love of my life) and his best friend, Wesley walked, ran and skipped the seven blocks from Cherryhill Elementary School…where we were all first graders…to my house where my mother was waiting for me to come home for lunch.

She had a tuna fish sandwich with soft Wonder white bread (it was 1950, after all) an apple cut in slices and a glass of whole milk (to build strong bones) waiting for me…just like she did every day since that was my very favorite.

There was no pancake batter sitting on the counter waiting to be added to a sizzling, hot skillet.

There was only one plate on the table…not three.

Suddenly, Jimmy stopped skipping and burst out, “I can’t go to your house!  If I don’t come home for lunch, my ma will kill me!!!!!!”

And then, Jimmy, the love of  my life, turned and ran like the wind down the street towards his house.

“I’m still coming!” said Wesley to me.  “I love pancakes!”

So Wesley and I slowly trudged the one more block to my house.  Okay.  Okay.  Only I trudged.

We dragged ourselves up the back stairs of the duplex where I lived.  Okay.  Okay.  Only I dragged.”

“MOM!!!” I shouted as I banged open the back-screen door.

“I brought my friend Wesley home for lunch…can we have pancakes?  I sort of promised.”

Did I just say “sort of”?

I walked further into the kitchen and sat down at my place at the table.

Wesley stood shyly by the door…not knowing where he should sit…a scared smile starting to appear on his little black face.

“Did I just say “black”?

My mother came out from the living room where she had been “hoovering” while she waited for me to come home for lunch.

Did I just say “hoovering”?

“Oh, hi mom.  This is Wesley.  I invited him and Jimmy Preston (the love of my life, although I didn’t say that, then) home for lunch.”

“I told them we could have your fantastic pancakes.  Jimmy changed his mind and went home.  But Wesley didn’t.”

“Hello…um…Judy’s mom.”  Said Wesley who didn’t know my last name or unfortunately…as it turned out later…his own phone number.

“Hello, Wesley! said my mother, giving Wesley one of her big, friendly smiles.  My mom was always happy and friendly.  Everyone loved my mom…and her pancakes.

She walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for Wesley.

“You can sit here, dear.” she said.  And as Wesley walked over to sit in the chair, she moved over to the kitchen counter, reached up to take down her big “pancake” bowl, grabbed it and then paused…as she looked at the two of us sitting at the kitchen table.

“Your mother knows you’re here, doesn’t she, Wesley?” asked my mother.

“No, ma’am” said Wesley politely.  Then he slowly tilted his head to the side…perhaps wondering for the first time if his choice to have pancakes this day was not a good one.

Here is the part where my mother swears a lot, drops the pancake bowl and somehow keeps smiling…

Here is also the part where Wesley’s unknown phone number complicates things…

“I think there is an eight and a six…” offered Wesley hopefully.

And further… no one at Cherryhill is available to answer the frantic calls made by my mother…since they were very busy looking for the missing Wesley.

Soon there were a lot of policemen and police cars…but no sirens.

“Did I just say policemen”?

I saw Wesley’s mother.  She looked like she had been crying but my mom was hugging her so I guess everything was all right.  No one was hugging Wesley or me.

The front-page headline of the paper the next day said:

“6-Year-Old Boy Kidnapped By Best Friend.”

The smaller headline had a quote from Wesley.

“I just wanted some pancakes!”

Jimmy Preston (the love of my life) moved at the end of first grade and I never saw him again.

P.S.  We never got any pancakes.

The End