I have no birds to cushion life’s blows. I seek signs of them and wonder when the shift will happen in my mind; the shift from no birds to birds.
Growing up in the Sierras, red-tailed hawks came to me. It’s not as if they circled overhead, asking, “Hey, Charli, can I ride your horse?” It’s more like made their presence known. A loud, “Sceeee!” and I’d look up, watch wing feathers tickle air currents, and feel connected to the expanse we shared.
In Minnesota, it was backyard birds from red cardinals to common house finches to swooping goshawks. Then the ducks came. Whenever I needed a lift of spirits, a duck would fly overhead. Up north the loons would trill to me, and across the border, in Wisconsin the pileated woodpeckers played hide-and-seek.
North Idaho exploded with birds — Elmira Pond was a traveler-stop along the feathered migration highway. Hefty eagles hunted turtles and baby mergansers in early spring and Blue Heron bathed on a log at the edge of the pond. Wonders never ceased until the place ceased to be my home.
Lost in the wilderness with no plumbing and living in a leaking tin can of a camp trailer, nonetheless every morning I awoke to the miracle of hummingbirds. Caliope with golden-red heads descended from the river trees and battled for the sugar-water I set out for them.
In the strange and red land of southern Utah (Mars), Road Runner appeared. With a red head and black and white body, he was easy to spot. Yet he’d stride quickly in and out of brush and cacti. One day along the Virgin River between the massive sandstone pillars of Zion, Blue Heron flew past me like a visiting angel.
Broke down in New Mexico, quail, roadrunners, and hawks made visits. Our final days there on the border of Colorado where the McCanles family settled, the hummingbirds returned and we saw flashes of indistinguishable mountain birds. In Kansas, a hoot owl serenaded me several late nights.
Arriving in the Keweenaw, I heard a loon one morning and the trill felt like a welcome call. But since then, birds have gone silent. Maybe the rocks are too loud. More likely I haven’t adjusted my perception. It’s a stillness I embrace to be with nature, in nature. It’s where the birds usually meet me. It’s like the border to another place.
Writers visit that place — the borderlands between what we know and what we imagine.
Lately, I’ve been meditating and it feels like visits to that borderland expanse. I use an app on my phone from Calm.com. Believe me, after a year of wandering homeless, I need calm. An added feature is the “focus” music. Ambient sounds to de-stress and work by. A must-have for writers, especially on deadline or amid distractions.
A quote from a recent #dailycalm reads:
“You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel.”
I sat with that quote, letting it seep into my bones. Writers can’t help but see, and we write from open hearts. Whether we search the shadows for the darkness of humanity or let the light in, this is the borderlands. It’s setting out to write about birds and ending up with white flowers. Because we don’t know what awaits us on the page until we cross the border between what we see and what we feel deep inside.
Sometimes we don’t know what we feel deep inside until we craft a story and a reader reflects back to us the depth. Thus, is the deep in the writers? The readers? Or again, a borderland between individuals? We may not want to feel it but that is what we must write. That is what writing into our truth looks like — a trip to the borderlands and a journey to the deep.
In meditation, I was guided to “feel.” I recall thinking that I wasn’t really feeling anything deep. After all, I’ve been meditating, letting go, hefting healthy boundaries and (mostly) eating healthy food. I had invited calm into my life. Things were finally happening, moving, not stuck or unstable.
I was guided to pluck a flower and look at the feeling as if it were a bloom. I did. It was white. Suddenly a field of white flowers expanded before me and I recognized it as the scene I once snapped when Bobo perched in a field of white daisies. I love that photo — the beauty, the wonder, the freedom. It was before…
…before Kate died. Before we lost Elmira Pond. Before we wandered. Before Grenny died on Mars. Before we knew the battles ahead. Stab after stab I felt the grief so sharp. How could I be sitting here so calm, so focused and so utterly devastated inside? Suddenly, every white flower morphed into every war widow or struggling veteran wife.
If the soldiers have a field of red poppies, the spouses have one of white daisies.
The meditation continued. I grappled with grief, thought of Danni in that field and realized it will play out in my writing. After recognizing and naming my flower (field) I was able to let it wash past me. I felt better afterward, and curious, too. It felt like the borderlands materialized clearly. I will sit with this image for a spell.
In the meantime, I went digging in my photo archives and found the actual shot that led me to the field of white daisies. It reminded me that an early prompt at Carrot Ranch was “white flowers.” It was April 2014 and six writers responded. I remember my elation that anyone was responding! The writers responded with depth and I knew we would venture to the borderlands together.
Over three years later and we consistently have over 30 writers responding a week. And The Congress of Rough Writers has grown to 40. And now we have our first global title in Amazon, published by Carrot Ranch Literary Community: The Congress of Rough Writers Flash Fiction Anthology Vol. 1. It’s also my first book to qualify me for an author page and I’m over the moon. This marks a huge milestone for many of us in this community. I’m thrilled!
Yet deep down, I grieve.
That is the essence of the field of white daisies, though. It is why we remember WWI soldiers with stunning red poppies — we rise, perhaps stronger for our pain and suffering, and we soak up the beauty and the life, too. We cannot know joy without knowing grief. We cannot know the hero within without also recognizing our own capacity for villainy. We are human — we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
Just as I’m expecting birds to show up, I will always expect stories, too. We need only open our eyes to see, brave the depths of our hearts to feel. Write into those borderlands.
December 21, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but one that has an ability to be emotive. Humor, drama, irony — go wherever the white flowers lead.
Respond by December 26, 2017 (Happy Boxing Day!) to be included in the compilation (published December 27). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!
***
A Field of White Flowers (from Miracle of Ducks) by Charli Mils
Danni dodged potholes on the way to the logging site halfway up Nine Mile Road. On corners she slowed, scouting for logging trucks. Fully loaded they needed wide clearance. Near the crest of the ridge a mountain meadow opened up from the cover of tamarack and jack pines. Danni pulled over to let G-Dog and Det run through white daisies. G-Dog marked the perimeter and Det held point. What did she see? Danni scanned the far edge of shadows, imagining Ike and Bubbie walking the forest. White flowers bobbed like funerary tokens. A lone duck beat wings overhead. Silence.
###
The title has fiction in it, but what you say sounds as close to actual happenings.
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Every truth has its fiction and every fiction its truth. 🙂
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“Holy shit,”she exclaimed with the grace and aplomb expected of a fine lady. I saw the prompt first (the “is it a bear?” one) and immediately thought of Channing. So when I read this, I was quite impressed with myself for thinking like you. I’m going to write 99 words. I will probably not submit because my writing is kinda crap. But I have to write because apparently I cannot close my heart to things I do not want to feel.
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Around here the term is “raw”. 99 word stories are given and received graciously here. This is a fine safe place to practice craft and share writing.
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Yes, writing is so diverse. This is a great place for any reader to find something they like. And for the writer to keep on improving.
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Joy, I would personally love it if you shared your writing because when I read something like this: “But I have to write because apparently I cannot close my heart to things I do not want to feel.” it tells me that those words – regardless of how they’re strung together – are words I want to experience.
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Oh, my dear sweet (fiery) Joy, no, you do not close your heart to the things you don’t want to feel and because of that, you express huge amounts of compassion and truth. Truth that others often find difficult to face. You have a beautiful heart and a massive wound, yet still, you rise. You are courageous! And, as D. says, we embrace “raw” writing because that is also bravery. I would be honored to have a story for Channing here, though even the thought of you penning it makes me cry. Loss does weird things to us because we can’t ignore the hole or close the heart. Miracle of Ducks began as “Bubbie stories.” I was actually happy at one point, feeling like Bubbie could live in stories and it lifted me. But then I knew Bubbie would die because the truth is not in life or death; the truth is in how we take the elixir after death and return to life. In the end, it’s become a story about women who survive loss. Though it may slice our feet to walk in truth, it has a liberating beauty. I hope you feel the quickening of the borderlands upon you as you write, whether you share with us or not; I hope you experience what artist do when they dare to walk among those white flowers.
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I add my encouragement to that of the others, Joy. Carrot Ranch is a very safe place to share; but some writing is very personal and it is not necessary to share everything. Share when you are ready. There is no pressure. You’ll know when it’s time for you, and we’ll be here waiting with open, accepting arms, ready to embrace you.
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Thank you for that reminder, Norah. No pressure, but plenty of acceptance. ❤
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https://rantingalong.wordpress.com/2017/12/22/99-word-prompt-white-flowers/
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I can grow a few things… but gee golly. Puts a whole new spin on
“Face Plant…”
🙂
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A great humorous twist, Joelle!
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Helleborus niger
“Hey, Kid, I see yer saddlin’ up.”
“Yep, Shorty’s got us on another roundup.”
“What direction ya headin’?”
“Don’t rightly know, Pal. Headin’ for the border, not sure which one.”
“I reckon you’ll head north. Don’t fergit ta git white flowers.”
“That dang Shorty. White flowers. In winter. Bloomin’ hell.”
“That’s it Kid! Hellebores. Christmas Rose.”
“Oh, yeah, Pal. Blooms in winter.”
“See, Kid. The longest day is past. Ya’ve rode through a seasonal borderland. There’ll be snow an’ cold yet, but there’s always somethin’ bloomin’, somethin’ ta be picked.”
“Thanks, Pal. Feelin’ lighter already.”
“Yer hoss’ll ‘preciate that.”
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“Gol dang it Kid, she messed up agin! I shoulda said ‘darkest day’ or ‘longest night’, not ‘longest day’.”
“Dang errorist.”
“Ain’t funny, Kid.”
“Well, those dark days sure seem long, Pal.”
“Yep.”
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I mess up all the time… but once you hit send. Well that’s it isn’t it?
Ack it is 4:18 pm and very dusk near dark. I feel like I just woke up.
Kinda spooky when you look out an’ can’t tell if it is dawn or dusk.
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I never seem to learn about a hasty hitsend. Funny too how ya can read yer own words and not see errors. And I think in my mind these short daylight days do wear long. Gotten’ longer now though.
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Them errorists pop up when least intended! Darkest day it is… But a white rose in winter will uplift us all.
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So true, there’s always something blooming 🙂 Wish you and your loved ones a merry Christmas!
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Always love these stories, don’t always notice the errors, just appreciate them. I knew what was intended – the power of the mind.
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This made me so sad, Charli. For you, for war victims everywhere and especially for a friend who buried her eight year old son last year. She called him her ‘petit colibri’. I know I’ll have to write my story based on that. But not yet. Later.
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I wish you well on your journey to write that story, Juliet. Nothing more difficult than burying a child. All such sorrows make us ponder the meaning of life, I believe. Art can cope with what our minds often want to forget. ❤
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Thanks. Very true. I’m glad I got the chance to write about this terrible moment. I had pushed it right to the back of my brain.
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I find writing to be healing but I also trust its timing. ❤
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So sad, Juliet. Take care.
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Oh Charli, my heart goes out to you…
I shall try my hardest with this extremely symbolic prompt. ❤
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May you have white flowers to grace your story, as they can be full of sunshine and joy, too. ❤
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Thank you Charli 💜💜💜
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[…] prompt this […]
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Here you are…
http://butismileanyway.com/2017/12/22/december-21-flash-fiction-white-flowers/
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A beautiful and tender final gesture, Ritu! Thank you for your story!
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Thank you for the special prompt Charli xxx
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[…] Carrot Ranch: White Flowers Dec 21 prompt December 21, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but one that has an ability to be emotive. Humor, drama, irony — go wherever the white flowers lead. […]
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Charli and Company…
White flowers have different meanings everywhere… Some are sad, but others bring joy. If you choose to go to my link I got a tad carried away with some research on the flower of my choice… Please enjoy:
Floral Notes
White Spider Chrysanthemums, are an autumn flower.
Mums the birth flower of November;related to daisies
and marigolds. Being born in autumn, perhaps that’s why
Blanche chose them along with other smaller mums,
Baby’s breath, and to honor a Grandfather, whom she
had never met, (at her father’s request) three white roses;
for her wedding bouquet just days before the autumnal
equinox.
Blache has a fascination now for any and all white flowers.
She plans on framing some in a display; of the photographs
she’s taken of different white flowers on one of blank walls
in her dining room.
©JP/dh
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Such a meaningful bouquet you created from your research, Jules. And your character found a way to preserve the moment shared that day.
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I am already impressed with the pieces in the comments. To me, this prompt looks very difficult. And because of the busy Holiday season, I will be bowing out of this one, but I hope to read some of your posts once they get published.
Oh, and CongratZ on your dreams becoming real with the book, etc.
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It is certainly a busy season and sometimes the prompts do not spark. Hope you have happy holidays and remember to dream upon the New Year! Thank you!
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Thanks and best wishes to you, as well!
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One step beyond:
https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2017/12/22/dec-21-flash-fiction-contest/
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Beautiful flash, Di!
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Thanks Charli. All the best for 2018.
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They keep coming, friends from her youth, family, neighbors, and loved ones. They keep coming with fresh pasta, white roses, presence and care. They keep coming to spend time with their beloved who is so close to death that heaven now seems closer to them. They keep coming to break bread, sip tea, sit together on the foldout, laugh, cry, and love one another. What they do not know is how they are lifting the children, the caregivers, those weighted down with the grief of their love. They keep coming, giving so much more than they will ever know.
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Love this!
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So true, and so much love filled in those 99 words. Merry Chrismas to you and your loved ones Cheryl.
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Your flash captures what it feels like to be held when we no longer can stand on our own but must hold vigil for our loved one. So beautifully expressed, Cheryl.
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https://alterfaith.wordpress.com/2017/12/22/flash-fiction-contest/
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Here is my attempt.
https://alterfaith.wordpress.com/2017/12/22/flash-fiction-contest/
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Welcome to Carrot Ranch, Mark! Thank you for joining us this week!
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“Writers visit that place — the borderlands between what we know and what we imagine.”
Absolutely. Excellent.
My 99 words are up. Not the cheeriest I have written given the season, but in some way appropriate.
https://thefilecabinet.blogspot.com/2017/12/paisano.html
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Gently haunting…
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I had not thought of it as haunting. But after I read it with that in mind, I could relate.
I actually had to pare it down from a hefty 300 or so words. I had action, laughs, and serious moments to share. But rules are rules, and this is how it turned out.
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You could always say there is a longer version and post that at your place. Others do.
🙂
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Oh I saved the longer version on my hard drive. I just might want to finish it, expand it, or just use it for a bookend in the collection of unseen words I save like scraps of paper.
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So touching. Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones.
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Thank you. And right back atcha. Have a great Christmas and a better new year.
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Ah, you recognize that place then! Sometimes there’s more truth in less cheery stories. And there’s plenty of truth in yours. Thanks, Mr MacRum!
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To be fair to you, I only really pinpointed the place after you showed the way.
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a small Canuck bouquet of Christmas cheer, Charli…
Write Flowers
“Flowers! Fine! I did as instructed. Write flowers, the prompt said. I’ll write it again. There! Flowers!”
“I read the whole prompt. Your cognition’s seriously out of whack, buckaroo. And you need to get your eyes tested.”
“I have. It’s not looking good.”
“Oh, really. I’ve hardly noticed.”
“Well, I’m not walking into the walls. But I have prescription eye drops.”
“Sorry to hear that. Still, it didn’t tell you to write flowers. The whole post was a beautiful elegy to white flowers. WHITE.”
“So, I misread it. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
“Only in having this conversation.”
http://www.engleson.ca
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Ha ha ha ha. So much fun. Merry Christmas.
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Thank you for your lovely bouquet of Canuck cheer, Bill! Although, I did have to double-check the prompt! 😀
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White Flowers
Peter had four chickens and a dog. They did not get along. The dog was chained. The chickens weren’t. The chickens approached the dog and wiggled their butts at him. He jumped. They all knew just how long his chain was. “You idiot,” the chickens thought.
One day Peter went for a walk in the woods with his dog. His dog dragged him deeper and stopped near an opening with white flowers. Peter was happy. He unchained his dog.
His dog looked at Peter thinking, “You idiot.” The dog ran back without him.
Peter now only has a dog.
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Should not be laughing, but Ha ha ha ha ha. The chicken sure deserved it for what they were doing to the poor dog 🙂 Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones Frank.
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Chuckle, chuckle. 🙂
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Oh, Frank, having had a similar dog and often giving chase while praying for chickens, I totally get this scenario!
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I’m back after a long, sad day. Here’s a short, sad story to help me remember.
Rose-cups
We each held a single, long-stemmed, white rose, its perfect petals acting as a cup, catching the tears dripping from bowed heads.
I tried to curb the flow, but the speeches clawed at my heart. I longed to cover my ears and scream at them to stop.
But when his mother stepped forward I listened carefully, amazed at her strength, her calm, her beautiful, soft words.
As I approached to place my rose-cup upon the pile, my eyes met hers.
They were desolate, all the life in them gone, now inside the small white coffin with her first-born child.
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I sometimes wish there was another option than the “like” button. I acknowledge the pain of this story, and the heartfelt telling of it.
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Thank you D. I appreciate you telling me that.
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I “felt” your words… and chills at the end of the story. Sometimes these stories are a purging of our souls. Hugs to you my friend. ❤
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Thank you for your words, Colleen. Yes, I’m glad Charli’s prompt gave me this opportunity to remember. Hugs to you too. ❤️🎄
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With life comes the absence of it. We now have two anniversaries of loved ones passing…one years ago and one just days ago.
May their memory… of all we love who have passed be for blessings.
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You’re right Jules. Thinking of you during these sad anniversaries.
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Thank you. Let us remember the joys 🙂
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So sorry for your losses, past and recent, Jules. Hugs.
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Thank you… 🙂
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Really beautiful. ❤ ❤
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Thank you Liz. ❤️
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Oh God, no! I don’t know you, but a big hug to you Juliet.
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Thank you. This is a friend’s tragedy. But I was there that day, holding a rose-cup.
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This is a difficult story to comment on because it’s not one I can “like” but it’s one that’s so raw and emotional that it’s impossible not to connect to it. Thanks for writing it and sharing it.
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Thank you for commenting, Michael. I’m so glad you connected to this story.
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Such a sad, sad, story, Juliet, of a life cut far too short and a mother’s love robbed of its opportunities to nurture. We all grieve for the loss of both, whether our own or that of another. A mother should not have to grieve her child, but many do. Your pain at your friend’s loss is tangible and shows your great love, empathy and compassion. I’m sure your friend was/is very grateful for your support. Hugs.
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Thank you Norah for this lovely comment. You are so right. A mother should not have to grieve for her child. It’s a woman’s worst nightmare. Mine anyway. I’m glad you could feel everything I felt that day at the funeral. Hugs to you too.
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Wishing you good times in 2018.
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So very sad. Written from the heart.
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Yes, it really was. Thanks for commenting.
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Juliet, I’m honored you could share your story in this space, and as others have surrounded you with support, I join in. Sometimes I think it’s a helpless place to stand — next to a grieving friend. And yet it seems she led the way that day, so you, in turn, can lead at other times. I stood where you stood, stunned by how small a coffin can be. Beautiful writing. I know it does not ease the sadness, but it expresses it and we share the sadness with you. ❤
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Thank you, Charli, for these beautiful words of support. And thank you for giving all of us this space to express our feelings.
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Hi again, Charli. I’ve just finished reading the amazingly varied collection of white flower stories. But I didn’t see my little Rose-cups piece…
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[…] Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2017/12/21/dec-21-flash-fiction-contest/ […]
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Merry Christmas Charli, my thoughts this week:
https://summerstommy.com/2017/12/22/dec-21-flash-fiction-contest-giving-hope/
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Merry Christmas, Michael! May we all have a glimpse of hope as we head toward the New Year.
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Merry Christmas Charli, best wishes for 2018…
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Innocence Lost
If you read that the ink is a tear across the page, how would you pronounce “tear”? Did the ink drop, or rip?
The page is a field of white flowers. The unarticulated dreams in the margins know the sadness masked by the pure and perfect page, and hesitate, uncertain of the trek across the field of white bloom. What happens there at the borderland? Petal picking; it pains, it pains me not, down to bare stem.
Blushed blossoms fall apart, spent. Windblown petals shower across the tracked page.
Did the ink drop, or rip?
Bruised fruit is borne.
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An enchantment here.
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My thought too, Jules.
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My God, that’s magical! Brilliant.
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Deep. Maybe we need to pick those petals for find the truth: drop or rip, drop or rip. Maybe a bit of both. This phrase gives much to ponder, “The unarticulated dreams in the margins know the sadness masked by the pure and perfect page, and hesitate, uncertain of the trek across the field of white bloom. “
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Sometimes it drops, and other times it rips. You wrote this from that place. This particular line has stayed with me: “Petal picking; it pains, it pains me not, down to bare stem.” Writing is to bare the stem. And yet, flowers grow back, blossom again and ink drops like rain. Beautiful returns this week from your journey to the borderlands!
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Reflection
“Narcissus?”
“Yes, Hope, a fellow who fell deathly in love with his own reflection.”
“Mommy, that’s silly.”
“Then we’ll call them paper whites. Do the blooms seem papery to you?”
“Yes, and they stink.”
“Ha! Kinda, Hope. And I kinda like the smell. I don’t know why.”
“I like the way they stand in their pots, Mommy.”
“Me too, Hope. So bold and defiant on the cold windowsill, trying so hard to be spring. But they reflect winter.”
“If Winter falls in love with his reflection, he’ll pine away.”
“Then Hope, we’d best start ordering seed packets for spring.”
shiftnshake.wordpress.com/the-fold/
(Look, Norah, Mom’s hanging around, parenting! Happy Christmas)
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The melancholy of Winter, held at arm’s length with a seed packet.
I do like how this kid thinks!
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How lovely!
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Thanks, D. I was pleased to see Mum hanging around parenting, teaching Hope a thing or two about plants. Ordering plants for spring – helping Hope live up to her name. Love this thought: “If Winter falls in love with his reflection, he’ll pine away.” though we don’t need it to pine away here in Australia, and we really don’t want it to pine away altogether. Stay warm. Happy days.
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That wonderful feeling of ordering seed packets! I’m happy you offered Norah a literary gift of Hope (and Mom), too. 🙂
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[…] Carrot Ranch, December 21, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but one that has an ability to be emotive. Humor, drama, irony — go wherever the white flowers lead.Respond by December 26, 2017 (Happy Boxing Day!) to be included in the compilation (published December 27). All writers are welcome! Rules are here. Except I am breaking the Ranch rules here this week and presenting 375 words. […]
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Flight
“The king will be very angry with you for freeing me. How can I repay you? Name it.”
“Oh no”, said the girl. “You have brought birdsong back to the kingdom. That is all I need.”
“Take this”, said the bird. He pulled a white feather and handed it to her. “With this quill your words will sing and your spirit will soar. And yes”, he said as he flew away, “There will be pain.” She held the quill like a white flower; she held it like a sword; she held it as the key to her own escape.
(This week I have a 375 word version of this at https://shiftnshake.wordpress.com/author/shiftnshake/ if you want a bit more)
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Gather up more of these for a book!
So much joy from the reading and freeing and writing.
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Thanks Jules. Dunno about the gathering. Just got this one out for Charli. This week I broke the rules and do prefer the longer version, just cheated on that story to have one here. Go read it.
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I did read the longer piece… that’s what should be in the book!
(Yeah I know I’ve got enough stuff for several books… we need us a someone to do the leg work… who likes to do that part. But maybe just maybe dreams can come true in regards to printing our own stuff – eventually, but for now it’s great to have a place at the ranch.)
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Jules, if you have stuff, try lulu.com, they were pretty easy, though I did have help with my first cover. I don’t have much of a stash, I have been whipping these out as we go, including Charli’s fairy tale.
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Jules, let’s chat about doing something with your dreams because I do believe they can come true (although you might find you’ll be putting a leg or two in). 🙂 D.’s right — lots of options, and we can figure this out!
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“The bird thanked her and took flight and as it did, its written words took feathered form, and took flight, and became a great wheeling flock of birds…”
I love this image!
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Thanks. Have you seen those birds that fly in synch, hundreds of them? The choreography is amazing.
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Yes! Starlings, sweeping about in a murmuration!! Stunning…
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Try this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eakKfY5aHmY
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Back at ya. Be they ever so humble, I love crows. https://vtecostudies.org/blog/outdoor-radio-crows-come-home-to-roost/
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They’re pretty cool, too, but i am ever mindful that a group is rightly called “a Murder.” 😮
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Your videos remind me of our fruit bats https://youtu.be/6dHg_-BVbF0
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The three of you are cracking me up — from poetic murmurations to murder to fruit bats!
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Just doin’ our thang. 😉
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You’re on a roll 🙂
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So pleased you’re doing more with this story, D. I like where it’s going.
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A really lovely topic this week, Charli. I have managed to do something that isn’t fluffy and white so I am pleased with myself. Here you go: https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/2017/12/23/carrot-ranch-flash-fiction-contest-white-flowers/.
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Glad you like the topic this week and the surprise of where it took you, Robbie!
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[…] Dec 21 Flash Fiction Contest at Carrot Ranch […]
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https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2017/12/23/blossoming/
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Thank you, Reena!
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Oh, Charli, sorry you’re missing your birds. Winter is the best time for bird spotting here although many have flown south for the winter.
A great way to celebrate the first anthology with a return to an early prompt. You’ve done wonders gathering this community together. I remember that initial white flower prompt although I didn’t join in until later. You’ll find my contribution here:
Two novels about young men’s journey into Otherness http://annegoodwin.weebly.com/1/post/2017/12/two-novels-about-young-mens-journey-into-otherness.html
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Perhaps I’ll have to fly south to catch the UK birds one winter, Anne. I did spot a vireo nest in the maple while scooping snow and will watch it closer to spring. Amazing that white flowers had six responses the first go. You were there in the early moments. Amazing that you have published two novels in that time, a book of short stories due out and the third novel in progress. What a journey! And still, the birds fly their paths, time after time.
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[…] 21, 2017, Carrot Ranch Literary Community prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but […]
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A poignant tale this week: https://colleenchesebro.com/2017/12/23/the-safe-place-abrsc-flashfiction/
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And well told, Colleen. Thank you!
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Thanks, Charli. Our of the darkness comes the light of magic. ❤
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[…] Dec. 21: Flash Fiction Contest […]
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[…] 21, 2017, Carrot Ranch Literary Community prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but […]
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This is my first time entering this challenge and here is my offering:
https://strangegoingsonintheshed.wordpress.com/2017/12/23/the-scent-of-jasmine-white-flowers-flash-fiction-challenge/
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I wrote here for my first time once. Welcome.
And, what a strong entrance!
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Thank you very much!
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Welcome. As D. said, we all wrote here for the first time once. Then again, and again. 🙂
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I hope it will be the same for me. 😊
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If you wish it to be, it will be. 🙂
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Welcome to the Ranch, Jan and thank you for a beautiful offering!
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Thank you Charli, it looks like a lovely place. You’ll have to visit the Shed some time.
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[…] Dec. 21: Flash Fiction Contest […]
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Here’s my contribution, its tone may be different from the other entries.
https://robertkirkendall.com/2017/12/23/99-word-prompt-white-flowers/
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Thanks for your contribution, Robert! The variation in tones makes for a lively collection.
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Yes it does! Glad to contribute.
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[…] #Saturday mix and #Carrotranch flash […]
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[…] Carrot ranch Prompt (12/21/2017): In 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but one that has an ability to be emotive. Humor, drama, irony — go wherever the white flowers lead. […]
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A bit grim for what should be a holiday of light and renewal, but this character had to be dealt with for my WIP. Starts with the flash shown below, and continues to a longer piece per my link…God Jul to All at the Ranch!
Lilemor and the Fiddler
Lilimor gazed across the field of wild strawberries into the Great Wood. She didn’t have enough berries to fill her basket, but the fiddle called her to the waterfall within. Its song enticed, one she almost recognized and had to sing.
Perhaps she had enough strawberries after all. She stood, humming, and stepped her way through the field of white flowers, unmindful of the rich red berries that stained her feet.
Behind her, the cat growled, his tail switching. He was not as easily convinced as his young mistress.
He padded behind her, nonetheless, following her into the darkness.
https://huldermn.wordpress.com/2017/12/23/lilimor-and-the-fiddler/
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The extension only makes the reader want more…
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Thanks! The WIP is slow going, but getting there…Happy Holidays to you!
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I have too many WIP- I wonder if I’ll ever finish any one of them. Good Luck. Best to you and yours! Off to lunch and then to dinner also… two different families… Long day here. 🙂
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I wish you both success with your WIP!
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There is that sketchy new years resolution to actually get more in print… somehow, somewhere, someway… 😉
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You’ll do it!
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The strawberries seem so far away from winter’s grip right now and make me think what a good beginning they are to a journey into darkness.
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Thanks, Charli!
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[…] response to Charli’s prompt where she […]
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What a journey it has been Charli and although I wasn’t in it from the your white flowers prompt I feel I have shared most of your journey with you and have been honoured to do so. I have no doubt Charli that where ever you are birds will come and give you pleasure, flowers will bloom and although dark clouds are sure to be on the horizon they will be momentary storms that you will weather well, and will add to your depth in writing. Your flash has left me confused this week. You put me in a beautiful place yet made me wary. I am uncertain as to whether I should feel hope or fear. I’m opting for hope. I hope you and your family have a very merry Christmas. Lots of love Irene
Nearly forgot – mine this week https://irenewaters19.com/2017/12/24/white-flowers-99-word-flash-fiction/
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Oh the countless different realities we could be comfortable with…
Glad you didn’t forget. This could be a wonderful dream sequence… into a new reality for the new year. 🙂
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What a pleasant dream.
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It has been a journey and will continue to be so. I feel we’ve been writing pilgrims, entertaining one another like those in Canterbury Tales. Yes, Danni is in a confusing spot — how do you find hope when you fear the darkness beyond? Ducks are a good omen to her. Merry Christmas & much love to you, Irene!
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And to you Charli although now I should be saying I hope the New Year brings you everything you want and more. Lots of love
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[…] Carrot Ranch December 21st Flash Fiction Contest using ‘White […]
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New to this ranch. Here is my bit of flash: https://zanderinprint.wordpress.com/2017/12/23/not-all-flowers-are-created-equal/
Zander
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Nice, tight & subtle humor!
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Welcome to the ranch. There’s room for everyone here!
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The welcome has been most gratifying.
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Welcome to Carrot Ranch, Zander!
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Many thanks!
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I sat quietly in my bed where I read close to a whole book every night. Usually mystery suspense novels, new stuff for me. I’m writing 3 books from 20 years of notes. Everyone loves the stories, but they all say I can’t write for shit. My characters lacked personality. I’m learning triple time reading what that means, and what to do. I had already imagined their personalities while I wrote; I just forgot to share. Your share about the birds and the flowers 2 of my favorite things…held me to the very end…I wanted more, and whudaya whatdaya there’s more!!! Can’t wait to read ur anthology !!! Thanks …billy. and happy holidays!
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Hi Billy! Sounds like you are on a writing journey. It’s a good place to start with stories others connect with. Character development takes practice and that’s something flash fiction can give you — try using it to explore your characters. Thank you! I hope you get to read the anthology — good information and good stories. Welcome to the Ranch! (And I found your flash, posted it, too.)
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[…] Dec. 21: Flash Fiction Contest […]
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Wedding Flowers
“As is customary son, we are planning to pay for the wedding flowers. I think elegant white flowers like gardenias or roses would be best.”
“Sandy and I have already chosen carnations because of how well they last. They will look elegant with some green ivy, baby’s breath and long white ribbons.
“But we would be happy to pay for something more exotic; maybe orchids or lilies.”
“Lilies are for funerals and we aren’t exotic. Carnations will represent our practicality and symbolize our expectations for a long marriage.”
“Fluffy white marshmallows if you ask me.”
“That’s why we didn’t.”
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They are off to a good start!
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Thank you for your comment.
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Oh, this does remind me of finding out that weddings are for the parents & not the bride and groom.
Snappy last line!
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Thanks Liz
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Nice last sentence.
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Thank you Frank.
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Great finale.
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I enjoy the values conveyed in your flash, Susan. Great last line to close!
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[…] The Carrot Ranch Literary Community, hosted by Charli Mills, is HERE. […]
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Hi, I’m new to the Carrot Ranch and looking forward to getting to know you all. Here’s mine:
https://michaelsfishbowl.com/2017/12/24/granite-carrot-ranch-flash-fiction-challenge/
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Welcome to the Ranch, Michael. Pull up a carrot, kick back, and enjoy the rodeo!
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A strong first ride, right outta the gate!
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A great first. Welcome to the Ranch.
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Hi Michael, and welcome to the Ranch! A beautifully crafted and tender flash.
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[…] in response to the Carrot Ranch Literary Community prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but […]
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Here’s wishing our host Charli and her merry gang at Carrot Ranch the merriest of Christmas and the Happiest of New Years. No gifts I’m afraid, only this 99-word story on your lovely prompt. Have truckloads of fun guys! https://jagahdilmein.wordpress.com/2017/12/25/the-only-thing-that-looks-good-on-me-is/
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Love it!
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Thank you so much Norah 🙂
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You are a delight to have at the Ranch, Anurag, a part of the merry gang of ranchers! That and the truckload of fun is all the gifts a buckaroo could want…that, and white flowers on Christmas Eve. 😉
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Ha ha ha ha ha. Thank you so much Charli.
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And a big hug to you Charli. It’s only when we open our heart that we allow others to share in our grief, and though the grief itself does not reduce, you find yourself able to cope with it just a tad bit more, for you know you have friends who are there for you. Wish you a Merry Christmas.
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Thank you for your kind and supportive words, Anurag! Open hearts are like open doors. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
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Is it on “the far edge of shadows” where answers lie or more questions? A very evocative flash.
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Some answers seem to remain in the far edge or shadows. Thank you!
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Have you ever wondered if your last wishes will be carried out – right down to the flowers you’d like to adorn the celebration of your life? Here’s a little bit of fiction to lighten the thought.
Funerals & White Flowers
By Ann Edall-Robson
“Ahhh well…now, who is that coming in the door? I don’t recognize them. The kids seem to know who they are. I guess they are some of their friends. Nice for them to have some of their own kind in tow at a thing like this.”
“Jeeeeze Luweeeze, who in the heck ordered the white lilies? I know, I know. I always said they reminded me of death, but I sure didn’t mean mine! Wild Flowers and lots of them would have been my choice. Guess I missed that on my checklist of ‘this is what I want’.”
http://www.annedallrobson.com/99-words/funerals-white-flowers
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I’m making that list and checking it twice. I think it’s important to say how we’d like to be farewelled but, after we’re gone, will it matter to us? I wonder. I like the perspective in your flash.
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The full story got me chuckling, and I could see the character puffing around her own funeral. This was one of my favorite passages — the thoughtfulness towards the kids met with humor by referring to them as “their own kind.” And the flowers. Nicely crafted, Ann!
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I wrote for flash….but how to submit ???? Billy 831 212 6039
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Copy & paste story into comments. Copy and paste your url from your post. Pray to the www goddesses. All of the above.
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And to be done by what? Noon on The Tuesday due date?
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thanks, i submitted A White Christmas to Charli…i think it was her email…yes by tues on tues. Hope u likey, the 199 word version is alot funnier
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Hi Billy, Welcome to Carrot Ranch!
I’m glad you posted in the comments because that cued me to go searching my spam filters. I was able to retrieve your flash from my spam filters. It happens sometimes. You should be able to post here next time and I’ll post for you now:
White Christmas by Billy Quealy
Giant white CalaLillies in California last only 3 days in water. Pulled some from landscaper’s junkpile. Mysteriously still blooming 2 weeks later!! The music ?, the sex ?, my semi-autist GF reading holybooks aloud??
Christmas morn: “Fetch us some coffee so I can surprise. ” Return to see she painted wall behind flowers black. “Shiny now, and look ‘little friends’!!!” placing little white potted bloodwort-plant. Stolen from someone’s yard no doubt. Landlord not gonna like painted Mahogany panel, fumes gonna wilt flowers.
“Happy?”
“It’s beautiful honey!!!”
Kiss.
“Oh let’s have coffee with the flowers…..we’ll have a white Christmas billy!!!!
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[…] This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills has challenged writers to in 99 words (no more, no less) include white flowers in your story. This is a repeat prompt, but one… […]
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Hi Charli, I’m running late again – got caught up in the holidays and forgot the day. Apologies. Here’s my story: You can count on it https://wp.me/p3O5Jj-138 I’ll be back later to read and comment on others. Best wishes.
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Hi Charli,
I hope the birds fly back to you soon. I’m surprised there’s not so many where you are. I thought there’d be many around the water. Have they all flown south for the winter? I love the birds and marvel at their songs each morning, as I wrote last week, and throughout the day. What a dreary world it would be without them.
So many changes you experienced during the past eighteen months, Charli. I hope the spring brings forth is new beginnings and abundance for you.
It’s interesting returning to the ‘white flowers’ prompt. I appreciate that you dedicated that initial compilation of six white flower stories to my mum; gone but not forgotten.
I went in a completely different path with my white flowers this time – not into physical death as your flash seems to point, but more the death of an idea, a belief – or not.
I’m so excited about your author page and have followed you. I didn’t even know you could do that! And am excited about the anthology too. Thank you for including my stories. I’m thrilled to be a part of it all.
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Hi Norah! Considering I lost a day somewhere, it’s all working out. I feel like we’ve been through many lifetimes at the Ranch, experiencing loss of all kinds and writing our way through, showing each other compassion, trying to find solace in our art. Ah, I know what you mean about the birds providing our soundtrack. We do have massive ravens hopping and gathering about. And I discovered a bird’s nest up in the old maple tree that looks like a hanging basket. My daughter looked it up and we discovered it possibly belongs to a red-eyed vireo which is known to sing incessantly! It may be quiet for winter, but I look forward to what the spring brings — birds and otherwise! Thank you for being such an important part of the Ranch.
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The song of the vireo is another thing to look forward to in the spring. I have good feelings about 2018. Things are starting to hop at the Ranch and it’s still snowing outside. You’re keeping it warm inside. Best wishes to you and your loved ones.
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[…] week at the Ranch, Charli Mills hosts the Rough Writers and Friends flash fiction challenge. This week’s prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), include white flowers in your […]
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Every Christmas brings back, for me, the home I lost in Nevada, with all the Christmas decorations and the huge, beautiful kitchen. I’ve been slogging through the season. And I missed the deadline but here I am anyway, ready for spring already.
https://99monkeysblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/27/promise-jane-doe-flash-fiction/
Beautiful post as always, Charli!
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My heart aches for you, Deborah, in that loss. I know what it is to wander down halls no longer there; to see ornaments so clearly they must be…somewhere…but they are nowhere nearby. I can even smell the sagebrush. I had hoped for some uplifting vibes at Christmas but I didn’t have much of my own to add. Thank you for slogging over. I’m none too speedy, but feeling excited for the new year (probably to be done with this one)! Thank you!
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Birds. I love them. I hope they flock to ease your thoughts soon Charli.
Paperwhites
Written by Kerry E.B. Black
Delicate blooms bobbed from fragile supports, yet fragrance rose like springtime that winter afternoon. Cindy ran a finger along its silky petals, marveling at the minute perfection of the Paperwhites. Narcissi. Named for a narcissist so in love with himself he ignored another and drowned attempting to hug his own reflection.
Cindy smiled at the gift-giver. “They’re beautiful.”
He shrugged. “I picked them.” His gaze swept her party dress and updo. “Are you ready? I mean, is that what you’re wearing?”
Cindy inhaled the delicate perfume and sighed. Never fall in love with a narcissist, yet here I am.
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*I know I missed the deadline, but I wanted to participate none=the-less. 🙂 I hope that’s okay.
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I have featured cardinals and how one visited me on the day my Grandpa died. This particular cardinal was a winged messenger letting me know my Grandpa understood how much I loved him. . . Then the yellow Carolina parakeets out west were shot at by the homesteaders in their Connestoga wagons, in the hundreds. . . My tags have birds listed on the side of my full size posts. 🕊 🐦 🐤
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