“Well, I’m standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona and such a fine sight to see. It’s a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowin’ down to take a look at me…” wrote musicians Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey. The song went on to be a classic for the Eagles: “Take it Easy.” That iconic opening was one Jackson Browne struggled with and Glenn Frey assisted by adding the second line as a joke, as a first response. But you know what? Sometimes it’s those unconstrained ideas that jump from our brains to pen that surprise even the writer, yet becomes the right idea.
I’m not standing in Winslow, Arizona, but my feet are planted on the historic Honeymoon Trail that begins there. And it includes a girl, my Lord, and an eventual hoard slow trekking to get married. Between here and there, and beyond me into St. George, Utah expands a vast arid land settled by the Latter Day Saints, the Mormon Pioneers. The Honeymoon Trail led from outlying settlements of the Little Colorado River to the only Temple in town. You see, to obtain an eternal marriage, Mormons must be sealed in the Temple.
Just as I’m not sure what the Hub’s Puritan ancestors would make of the LDS Church posthumously baptizing them all for a greater heaven than they sought in the Colonies, I’m also not sure about sealing. Something mysterious occurs within the grand white Temple that gleams like a lost tooth in a stark red landscape of carved sandstone. I’m not keen on the polygamy, which still exists within the modern FLDS (Fundamental Latter Day Saints) where girls are married to old men and boys are considered competition, thus once of age they are escorted with only a home-school education to St. George and dumped at the Catholic Church social services like a litter of unwanted puppies.
But show me a religion unflawed. We can’t single out one without noting them all.
Belief is powerful. Belief in God is undeniable in those willing to settle the desert and practice the freedom of expression they were denied elsewhere. And how can anyone stand on the Honeymoon Trail as it drifts off into swells and washes beneath a sunset of carnival glass without pondering one’s existence and that of a creator God? When we step off that corner in Winslow, Arizona and try to meet the girl we realize that first-love is no easier to grasp than colors in the sky. Yet, like addicts, once smitten we try to recapture the moment.
My drug of choice is the land. Slowly I inhale dust and sage and sunset. I absorb the wash of magenta-lavender-gold light. The nothingness I hear plays like an orchestra as vast as the horizon, my heart thrumming like water that flows underground in hidden hollows. My eyes blur and ghosts come out to dance lightly among sagebrush and cactus with spines so fresh the plants look fuzzy. The sun dips and my hit subsides but the good vibe lingers. I could stand here on the Honeymoon Trail until coyotes yip and stars out-twinkle a Swarovski tiara.
Alas, my honeymoon is over.
The Hub is agitated and impatient to drive out of this land. If I said nothing, he’d drive and drive and drive. But he married an outspoken woman and unlike those who followed men to the Temple, I protest. Perhaps other women on this trail protested, too. Many believed the promises of Brigham Young, others believed in a better life. Nonetheless they all believed a Temple marriage was worth the hundreds of miles of this trail past poison water, the mouth of the Grand Canyon itself and dangers of the desert. I can’t imagine the Hub persisting across this expanse with a wagon and mule. He’s too impatient, but he’s my impatient partner and he tolerates my quirks and annoyances.
The day he came home and told me his therapist said I was outspoken I snorted and said, “Better than silent.” I don’t believe it was an insult. It was said in context of encouraging the Hub to express his own views separate from mine. Which I see he has no problem expressing. He’s outspoken, too. I’m sure, had we made the Honeymoon Trail trek 150 years ago, the silence of the desert would have echoed our voices from camp to camp. He’s a warrior; I’m a fighter. And we both survive. We do more than that. We laugh raucously and share a love of land, each other and our children.
When do you know the honeymoon is over?
I think of Mary Greene wooing Cobb McCanles in North Carolina where fresh water tumbled coolly over granitic rocks and steep mountains hid beneath a deciduous forest. A fun game it must have been, the excitement of the chase, the power, feeling alive to pursue a man who left the other girls tongue-tied. And they were girls. Mary was 14 when she first saw Cobb shirtless in the glen, riding his steed. Sarah was 13. By the following February, after the harvest dances, Christmas and in time for the early mapling, Mary was 15 and married. At 16, she gave birth to their first son. At 17, her mother died. At 18, she bore a second son, at 19 a third.
The honeymoon was definitely over by the time she was 22, Cobb was elected Sheriff his second term and their fourth son was born. Imagine being 22 years old with no mother, a husband on duty out of the house and often on the trail, and four children under the age of five. And then you hear another is pregnant by your own spouse. Such was Mary’s life in 1856. Counting back the months, Mary forgave Cobb by Christmas. Nine months later she bore a daughter, a difficult birth that nearly killed them both. What might have torn apart other couples, Mary and Cobb seemed agreed on giving their “blue baby” a chance at life. In an age where no one would have questioned the baby dying from a failure to thrive, Mary and Cobb nurtured their daughter who would retain developmental issues and blindness her whole life.
We never achieve the honeymoon again perhaps because it’s a mythical period of expectation exaggerated by a chemical rush of hormones. Maybe the Mormon coupes seeking their eternal marriage forged a stronger foundation for partnership, sharing the arduous journey of the Honeymoon Trail. Maybe they shrugged off the exhaustion of the trail as sunsets offered promise evening after evening until the white Temple rose into view. Maybe they spoke of hopes and dreams. Maybe they held hands and shared each others’ fears. Maybe a few were outspoken. Maybe a few men welcomed a spirited woman, recognizing marraige in such a place would be a daily battle.
March 9, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon story. It can be between a couple before, during or after the honeymoon. Or it can refer to a honeymoon period. Go where the prompt leads.
Respond by March 14, 2017 to be included in the compilation (published March 15). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!
Under a Honey Moon (from Rock Creek) by Charli MIlls
Cobb fiddled for the Christmas festivities, his gaze lingering always on Mary. How long had it been since her husband looked at her like under a couple’s honey moon?
After the final reel, Cobb spoke to his father before joining Mary. James returned with a rocking chair and set it in front of her. Its hickory gleamed dark and gold. James was renowned for his craftsmanship.
“It’s yours,” he said.
“Oh!” Mary sunk into the smooth seat, rocking silently. She smiled up at father and son.
James clapped Cobb’s shoulder. “My son made that for you.”
“Forgive me, Mary?”
[…] Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2017/03/10/march-9-flash-fiction-challenge-2/ […]
Hi Charli, enjoy your weekend
Hi Michael! Taking the afternoon to go explore some more desert. You enjoy your weekend, too!
[…] March 9: Flash Fiction Challenge […]
Nice inspiration, Reena!
Apparently we are not completely out of the woods as far as the winter weather here in the mountains on the west end of the state of Virginia. I think in total we have had two or three snow events with a grand total of 3 inches of the white stuff. The forecast for late Saturday/early Sunday threatens to double that amount! So I may get a “snow day” to actually spend time on my work in project. In the meantime little sprints like this help to refine my skills. Thanks for the opportunity to join in Charli! https://fictionplayground.wordpress.com/2017/03/10/honeymoon-at-niagra-crff-030917/
hmmm… maybe we were there at the same time?
I was so impressed with Niagra Falls. I wish it was possible to capture the emotional reaction. I definitely want to go back with a passport so I can go underneath the falls.
I think the better view of the falls is from a distance. When on the Maid of the Mist boat tour the sound of the water is deafening and you are so close that you just don’t see anything but mist. I’ve been told the better view is from the Canadian Side. We didn’t get to spend much time there. I would like to go back again. I hope you get there too.
Until you can and for anyone else who wants a tour short tour behind:
True, but the sheer power experienced on the Maid of the Mist is something I will never forget.
It was beautiful. Similar I think to the sea in storm mode. But then I am fond of water…I’m lucky to have a creek at the end of my yard. Not quite beach sand but it will have to do. 🙂
I have always dreamt of water on my property. A creek, pond or river would be fabulous, but instead I just have dry land.
Hi Joe! I undesrand yet another storm is headed to the east coast after the weekend weather. It was almost 80 degrees on the Honeymoon Trail today! How far are you from Shulls Mill or Boone NC? That where Cobb and Mary and Sarah are all from. Somewhat your neck of the woods!I hope you get a snow day! I enjoy your contributions!
I am about 80 minutes north of Boone, but my elevation is such that I get significantly less snow. Looking outside this morning I see a canopy of white, but seems to only be on the grass. Last year one single event brought 11 inches. My Kubota tractor was worth its cost that day! I love contributing to the collection. I think is fun to see how others interpret the photo each week.
That is incredible to me that you are so close to where my story originates! I’m glad you didn’t get buried in snow. 🙂 Yes, my favorite part of these challenges are seeing all the different responses.
[…] Come on over and join all the other writers who participate in this flash fiction challenge every w… […]
I’m back after a long break from doing your writing challenge, Charli.
Have a great weekend.
I’ll admit it, you got me good. Great flash!
Thanks, Pete. Music to my ears when a reader tells me they didn’t see the ending coming.
Ha! That twist totally got me. Well done.
Thanks, Allison. Music to my ears once again. I like it when my stories do that. 😀
Bwahahhhaha! And Bingo!
Hi Hugh! Always good to see you roaming the ranch with words in your saddlebag! Take a seat by the fire, the coffee pot is always on. 🙂 Hope you had a great weekend, too!
Aughh! You got me!
Good to hear, Deborah. 😀
“So have you talked to Mom?”
Emma’s hair is sheared and jarring. I suppose that’s the point.
“I called, but…”
She nods. I miss her mop of curls, soft on my chin when she’d nuzzle her head on my chest. Now it’s purple.
“Look. I know it’s hard, Dad, but…Mom’s moved on.”
Those curls. That giggle. Checking the closet for Snapper Dragons. She held us together all those years.
“Anyway,” Emma’s eyes flick across the diner. No longer wide and adoring but fierce. Those of a dragon slayer. Even now she looks like Tegan.
“Why don’t you try dating?”
Yeah, that honeymoon is long over!
Hi Pete! Good to see you! Your pacing gives the sense of being back in time with this man and his thoughts, yet we hear his grown daughter, cutting away his soft fog with reality of where he really is. That makes the last line feel more like a knife plunge than a suggestion.
[…] the Carrotranch Flash Fiction Challenge March 9, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon story. It can be between a […]
Every wonder why it’s called a Honeymoon? The story sometimes tell s that nine months after the wedding, it would be the Mead maker that was congratulated, not the proud parents.
Ah, now I understand. 🙂
“the beekeeper harvested some of the honey, not all. He left plenty for the hive to live through the coming winter.”
There’s a greater truth, here.
Hi Mike! Welcome to Carrot Ranch, and thank you for adding to our knowledge of the birds and bees!
True story for you this week Charli.
Welcome to my honeymoon (which was pretty terrific)!
“…the novelty of a flush suction loo was just too much for the bride…” Was this an example of ‘Flush Fiction”? (Sorry, could not resist!)
Fun memory to pass down over generations–thanks for sharing it here, too!
More of a ‘flushed with success’ of the day! (and as for my first aeroplane ride two years later………….that was a riot too!)
Another Flash for another day? ;-D
already posted on it, but if the prompt is right, you never know!
I’ll have to remember flushed fiction for Toilet Day!
I did not know this was an actual, serious, U.N. thing. Cool!
Hi Di! Thank you for inviting us to glimpse your honeymoon!
Most welcome. It was a brilliant day.
Hi Charli. I may be pandering to your constituency but given the minefield that marriage can be, I thought I would take the coward’s way out.
Over the Honeyed Moon
“It just ain’t the same, Jake.”
“How so, Sapling?”
“Well, before we got hitched, she was all sweet and cuddly.”
“Still cuddly. Sweet, not so much. And she’s got quite a mouth on her these days. I think the honeymoon’s over.”
“It had to end sometime. Is that so bad?”
“Jake, she’s always talking. It’s like she’s always got something on her mind.”
“Hmmm. A woman with ideas. That’s a honeymoon killer.”
“Don’t be a smartass, Jake. I like that she’s smart. It’s just…”
“Jake, I think she smarter than I am.”
“Women usually are, Sapling.”
Second to last line should read
“Jake, I think she’s smarter than I am.”
Oh, and not to clutter up the post but I stumbled across this bit of romantic antiquity and thought some might enjoy it.
What a fun piece of video history!
It’s not pandering, it’s smart. Effective use of dialogue.
Great snappy dialog that carries the pace. I like the nickname, Sapling, too. Makes me think of a tall lanky youth. And his friend is sharing the wisdom! 🙂
[…] post was written in response to March 9th: Flash Fiction Challenge, hosted by Carrot […]
Coming back to this rying this challenge once again. Ans once again, reusing a longer piece and changing it to fit the 99 words. Sometimes I feel I should try to create it new, but I also like the challenge and the exercise of editing old pieces.
So here’s my collaboration this week:
Hi Etol! Welcome back! I think it’s great that you are using the challenge to reduce longer works. I’ve found that it’s a great tool for finding the heart of a longer piece and when I’m struggling with a longer scene, I actually make it into a flash and usually get a better feel for it. And that’s the great thing about our own writing — we can recycle and re-use!
[…] 9, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon story. It can be between a couple before, during […]
I write SciFi. Can’t you tell? 🙂
Oh, yes! I can tell! Your flash brought all kinds of ideas to mind.
That’s the intent: Provoking thought, having people think about a million ways this could happen.
[…] week’s prompt over at Carrot Ranch gave me an idea immediately. I think the story is one teachers will relate to, as it recalls my […]
Teacher-types will appreciate this one.
That’s a fun take on the honeymoon! We have some wonderful teacher-types who have enjoyed the classroom marriage long beyond the honeymoon. 🙂
It doesn’t take long, does it?
Definitely a groaner…pun intended! 😉
Thanks for connecting Robert to the challenge!
Happy to help spread the fun. I love to do challenges, too. 🙂
Hi, Charli, I’m sorry you’re on the move again and hoping it all works out. I like how you are getting a handle on Mary whose domesticity has eluded you but her character’s coming to life as you connect with the pressures she was under.
Regarding the customs of Mormons (this time in Britain) you might remember a novel I reviewed a few years back, that I’d still recommend:
I read your full post after writing my flash this time, so it’s interesting that the church (albeit a different one) has come into mine (although maybe not so unusual given the popularity of church weddings).
And, after marrying in Las Vegas, I had my honeymoon in Utah (although by my criteria camping doesn’t count as such) and I recall not being able to buy alcohol on a Sunday to toast the union.
My flash comes at the bottom of a post about writing process drawn from an excellent essay in the Guardian (I wish I’d seen it when I did my raw literature post) which beautifully encapsulates the joy of pantsing.
Loved your flash. My hubby and I spent our honeymoon camping too, on the Snake River in Hell’s Canyon. We loved it more than we would have enjoyed a fancy cruise or something, and we probably spent just about as much money!
Deborah, that’s an amazing honeymoon! We camped, too in Nevada. Less exciting but we hiked Pine Creek, soaked in Spencers Hot Springs and I thoroughly explored area ghost towns. Did you get to take a jet boat?
We did take a jet boat, visited a nature conservancy and picked fresh apricots and blackberries. ..I almost gorged myself sick. Apricots are my favorite. The heiroglyphs were amazing. And I’ve often thought the Big Smoky Valley personifies Nevada. I love that area.
Apricots and blackberries! What a trip to remember, better than any luxury cruise. 🙂 Ah, yes, the Big Smoky Valley. We used to dream of owning a ranch up one of those aspen-lined canyons.
Hi Anne! We might have a line on a ranch truck that could haul our big RV and if not we have a nephew willing to move it for us. Where remains a question, but it might free me up to make a research run to California and meet with a McCanles historian. I hope the timing all works out. I look forward to reading that Guardian article, as I find the more time I allow for pantsing, the deeper and richer the connections I uncover, such as understanding Mary beyond a domestic fixture. Where in Utah did you honeymoon? The original Honeymoon trail is all about camping! And yes, Utah still has its alcohol laws, requiring the occasional visit to Nevada. Thanks for the Song for Issy Bradely, one I discovered through your review!
People often remarked that Sarah and Sam made a handsome couple, both tall, both fit. Sarah would never have settled for a shorter man. At nearly six feet tall, a short man made her feel self-conscious and awkward, too tall. She and Sam looked good in public.
In private, the honeymoon was over. Sam berated her and belittled her. Eventually she became cringing and silent. He had affairs with women of all shapes and sizes. She didn’t speak out.
They were a good looking couple. They would remain married. But Sarah’s hopes had shrunk and she felt very small.
Such a powerful metaphor for how small someone can feel despite appearances. And an interesting complexity in the relationship that she would be the one more attached to how they look to a couple, making her situation ironically tragic. Good to see you at the ranch again!
[…] March 9: Flash Fiction Challenge March 9, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon story. It can be between a couple before, during or after the honeymoon. Or it can refer to a honeymoon period. Go where the prompt leads. […]
I went looking up ‘sealing’ and wow…I just can’t imagine that type of commitment. I guess coming from a divorced family… and well divorce just seems so casual in modern times. Though I do know many that have ‘made it work’. And marriage does take work, forgiveness and humor go a very long way. My take on this prompt is a short BoTS. And ‘We’ are still good 😉
(There is a link to the Maid of the Mist…at the post/title)
Mooning for a View
They say it is good luck for it to rain on your wedding day.
But on the day you travel for your honeymoon too? It
had started with ‘No room at the airport inn’ – to catch
a plane to just across the border (before you needed
a passport to get there) to the resort that wouldn’t run
the ski lift except on weekends, when there wasn’t snow
– so they missed that adventure.
Her grabbing the wrong groom…in the crowd when
they got separated – gave them a laugh. At least
they got to ride the ‘Maid of the Mist’.
Ah! You looked up the sealing! Did you catch the part that sealing can be performed vicariously for the dead? That’s why the LDS Church is the world’s leading repository for genealogical records. I’m curious to know why this is such an important element of eternity, or what human insecurity it fulfills. Lovely BOTS, Jules!
Yeah – them folks even converted anyone who wasn’t of their flavor – just to save souls. Not many a Jewish folk surviving the Holocaust appreciated that (I think I read somewhere of a law suit to have ‘that type of’ conversion ‘undone’. Yes I knew about the Genealogical record keeping bit. Interesting what authority ‘they’ believe that they have to do such…
It was a bit confusing about just who got to spend eternity with whom, since even though you were allowed more than one spouse you could be unsealed if you were a widow or widower..because you could only be ‘sealed’ to one spouse, and then the children too? Really I though only One being had that authority and ‘It’weren’t ‘ “Human”.
Sealing is a part of the original polygamy tradition but it got mixed up when Utah became a state under the provision that it outlawed polygamy. Those who staunchly adhered to the origins of the sealing and such, protested and moved across the state line to Arizona Territory. These are the fundamentalists, the FDLS.
“it includes a girl, my Lord, and an eventual hoard …” Did you intend this? Cuz I have an ear worm now… 😉
Hee, hee! I wasn’t sure anyone would pick up on that! 😀
[…] Carrot Ranch Prompt (03/09/2017): In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon story. It can be between a couple before, during or after the honeymoon. Or it can refer to a honeymoon period. Go where the prompt leads. […]
Because it’s snowing again, dammit!
A Secret Garden
She closes her eyes, imagining the garden in springtime.
New-sprouted shoots, sharp contrast to dew-darkened soil, velvet massage of black dirt on bare soles. Her fingers reach deep, homebase for a riot of flowers interspersed with vegetables. The scent of all these possibilities the only polish her roughened nails ever need.
Over the coming months, weeds and drought will exhaust the spring honeymoon. With luck, summer showers, or freakish hailstorm will raise sensual petrichor, reminiscent beginnings. What had wilted will rise again, firm against a thin blue sky.
She opens her eyes, strokes her husband’s hand.
He smiles, bemused.
Oops! Here’s the link:
Got it! 🙂
Oh, I know that snow song and so strange to not be singing it! You make me miss the dark soil of my former garden, like a garden widow. I’m happy this gardener still has both her man and promise of what will rise again. 🙂
If the land is your drug, Charli, I’m so pleased you share it around. What beauty you find in it and we find in your descriptions. This is an interesting piece of history you have shared here. I hadn’t heard of the Honeymoon Trail. We do have some Mormons knock on our door occasionally, trying to convince us of their truth. It’s always a pair of young men in white shirts and ties riding on cycles (the men that is, not the shirts and ties). I must admit I haven’t seen any for a while now.
I’m pleased you explained the ages of Mary and Sarah, and the relationship between Cobb and Mary to make more meaning in your flash. What a touching piece. She obviously did forgive him. Is that true love?
Hi Charli, I’m back with my offering. Honeymoon dream http://wp.me/p3O5Jj-St Thanks for the challenge.
Thanks for meeting the challenge!
Happy to pass the pipe around, metaphorically speaking! Going on mission is important to the young Mormon men. They move up the hierarchy, becoming elders. If they visit again, tell them you’re Catholic and they’ll depart, believing your soul lost. 🙂 But they are sincere, and they do have an interesting concern in wanting to share with others. That’s better than those who would rather take or destroy. Much better to go out and get high on the land, though! Yes, the ages — they were all young! That’s part of what captivates me, regarding Sarah living to be 98 years old. Whether it was fully forgiveness or true love, Mary and Cobb both made a reconciliation and I think it’s important to include because historians like to focus on Cobb bringing his mistress and wife out west. Originally, that’s where I entered the story — not what the men thought, but what about the women? We aren’t flat paper-dolls without motives and reactions. Thanks for your reading, Norah!
The reading, as always, is my pleasure, Charli. Interesting what you say about our Mormon callers. One Easter Sunday we had a visit from some Jehovah’s Witnesses. We had all our family here. I thought they’d be hard pressed to find someone to listen to their message that day! But yes, it’s better than those who go out and destroy.
I’m pleased that you are delving into the hearts and minds of the women in your stories. It is important to show the depth of their characters.
Now I have made a few flippant comments this week. Sadly, I think I’m on a roll. I’m going to have to say that I am far from a “flat paper-doll”, but I’m not referring to motives and reactions! 🙂
[…] This post was written in response to Charlie Mills’ Carrot Ranch Weekly Flash Fiction Prompt […]
That was a really interesting post. Charlie. I’d never heard of the Honeymoon Trail. Great to learn more about the origins of the US. I was in Salt Lake City about 10 years ago in the Mormon Headquarters (is that the right name?), but I had never really thought about their role in the very beginning.
Loved your flash. Wow, poor Mary, she had a lot to forgive. Not many women today would forgive…
When’s the honeymoon over? The question itself is so terribly sad because it has to be over, at some point, and it’s usually short-lived. So the next question would be: What comes after the honeymoon? Who knows? That’s equally sad, because there could be nothing, or worse the end…
I’ve gone back to Victorian Engand once again, to Charlotte Bronte’s honeymoon. She was married only for 9 months before she died in her difficult pregnancy. We don’t really know a lot about their relationship, so I’ve reimagined it all, and as I’m an incurable romantic, I believe Charlotte might have been almost as passionate as Jane…
Yes, the LDS headquarters are in Salt Lake City. That was all I knew of Utah until our sojourn to Mars. Brigham Young sent out pioneers to settle this area and St. George was the first Temple in the south. Thus the Honeymoon Trail to connect all the communities down this way. And as you as, who knows what comes next. Maybe the honeymoon sustains or maybe its painful to remember especially after the loss of a bride to her first pregnancy. I did not know that about Charlotte Bronte. Yes, I would imagine her that way, too.
Written by Kerry E.B. Black
Melinda’s fingers trembled as she applied sheer lipstick and adjusted her frilly negligee. She recalled Pachelbel’s Canon, timing her heartbeats to its smooth rhythm as she had her footfalls six hours earlier. She had forgotten to lower her veil, and her father’s shocked expression when he went to raise it for her give-away kiss made her giggle. Rosemary and carnations scented the air, and almond lotion softened her skin. Removing the hairpins and brushing out the up-do took an hour.
Her groom knocked. Butterflies assailed her as she opened to him.
He said, face stony, “We made a mistake.”
Oh no! That’s a honey of a disappointment!
There’s such an air of sweet innocence, yet she seems perhaps a pawn between father and husband. Something out of her control as she’s passed from one to the other and now back again. An almost-honeymoon!
[…] for the 99-words-challenge on the Carrot […]
Many great entrances! Here’s mine, and in time this week ^^
Thank you, Enkin! Glad to have yours included!
[…] may wonder how I got here from the current flash fiction prompt by Charli Mills to In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon story. But my mind will […]
[…] Mills’ prompt this week […]
Ahhh, the old days when time, money and responsibilities meant going on a honeymoon was not a priority.
By Ann Edall-Robson
Creeeek. The sound of the old double rocker made her smile. A wedding gift he’d made sixty years ago. Silly gift when there was so much else they’d needed. Their grandchildren referred to the day they married as the old days. There’d been no honeymoon, ranch chores didn’t allow time away, but neighbours and friends made sure there was a celebration. Everyone crammed into their tiny cabin. Partying until the sun came up and it was time to milk the cows. A shivaree, in all its noisy splendor. Their whole life together had been their style of honeymoon. Creeeek.
Ah, yes, before glam-weddings and bridezillas. 🙂 I like the use of sound to open and close the flash. It sets the pace.
[…] week, Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch hosts the Congress of Rough Writers flash fiction challenge. This week’s prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon […]
The thing about honeymoons is that eventually they’re over. 😉
When a door closes… 😉
That’s the truest expectation, I think.