Last WEP Challenge, It's A Wonderful Life

 This is the last WEP challenge. Write, Edit, Publish was founded by Denise Covey, and we who have stepped up to the challenge are thankful. It has been a ride, Denise.

In addition to Denise, I want to thank the ladies who have been instrumental in the function of this quarterly writing challenge. Here’s to Renee, Nila, Olga, Jemi, and Sonia. Your hard work is greatly appreciated.

Today, our challenge is to take a favorite Holiday movie and write using the movie as inspiration. My favorite Christmas movie is It’s A Wonderful Life. When it was released, it bombed at the box office. But it has been played repeatedly on TV since its inception. And I have watched it and loved it since I was a child. The message in this movie is simple: Your Life Matters. I hope you enjoy my story.

 To read what others have written go here.

 

It’s a Wonderful Life

 

Noel left her room to join her family. They didn’t do the black Friday thing. Instead, they put up the Christmas tree. A Mannheim Steam Roller CD played instrumental music. Her father had already put the tree together. Its lights were already strung, so all you had to do was press the on-off switch to light it up.

“Ta da!” Her father yelled.

Her mother clapped, and her younger brother and sister jumped up and down. Noel rolled her eyes. She’d been born on Christmas day, thus her name. A constant reminder that she was supposed to be a jolly kid. Well, she wasn’t.

Today, she joined in, taking an ornament from her mother; she hung it and went back for another. She hid her misery from her parents, smiling when they looked her way.

This had been an awful year. She was teased at school about her name. Bullied to the point of hiding in the bathroom, and when that didn’t work, she ducked around the corner. Two girls had beaten her in the hall before class one day. One, kicking her in the stomach repeatedly. A handful of kids captured the attack on their cell phone cameras. Several teachers saved her, and she was taken to the hospital. Her parents were notified. She hated that they found out, and later she saw the attack posted on Social Media before it was taken down.

When she returned to school the next day, many other students followed her around, laughing while replaying her attack on their cell phones. The only good thing was that the two girls who beat her were suspended for a week. But when they returned, they continued with their malignant yells.  

She’d always loved church, learning about Jesus, and talking to Him. But she didn’t talk to Him anymore. No one in church humiliated her, but sitting in her class and learning about the wondrous acts that Jesus did only reminded her that nothing stupendous ever happened to her. She lived in a vacuum. Devoid of happiness.

Her parents had changed everything about Christmas just for her. They celebrated on Christmas Eve, opening gifts, eating dinner, and attending church services. Christmas day was for her birthday. The only thing she shared was Santa’s visit. This year she’d turn fifteen. But, if she wasn’t here anymore, then her family could have Christmas day back.

Dinner tonight was left over Thanksgiving. Noel liked it well enough, but her appetite was in the toilet, literally. She'd go throw up when done. After that, she had an appointment with her razor. So far, her parents hadn’t discovered her destructive habits, and she intended to keep it that way.

“You’re losing weight, Noel. Are you feeling okay?” Her mother asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.

“You really haven’t been yourself. Are those girls leaving you alone?”

“They’re keeping their distance.”

“Why are you so down?” Her mother continued to question.

“It’s…just…hard, sometimes.” Noel stood and headed down the hall to her room. She heard her mother’s next question. “I don’t know what to do?”

“She’ll outgrow out of it,” her father said.

A bathroom was attached to Noel’s room, making hiding all her bad habits easy. She vomited supper and then sat on her bed. She removed the drawer to her nightstand and turned it over, revealing her razor and pill bottle. She’d been squirreling away sleeping pills from her mother’s prescription bottle. One or two at a time, so it wouldn’t be noticed. She had twelve. Would it be enough?

She changed into the prettiest nightgown she had, took the pills with the bottle of water she’d brought back earlier, and went to bed. A genuine smile spread over her lips.

Sleep came…

*

She floated above her body. Why am I doing…oh yeah, I killed myself.

She could see her parents watching a movie together in the living room. Her brother and sister were in their bedrooms asleep. A pull and then a massive being joined her. His wings unfurled. He smiled and took her hand. She could hear what he said telepathically. Shooting stars zoomed past them.

“Those are prayers going to heaven,” he said.

“Am I going to heaven?”

“Yes.”

They arrived in a beautiful garden, the colors vibrant. Colors she’d never seen before. Then she saw Him, Jesus. And when He reached her, He hugged her.

“I love you,” Noel said.

He smiled, and though He didn’t speak, she felt His all-forgiving love. A love so vast, so complete she couldn’t describe it.

Then, the angel pulled out a book and began to open the pages.

She saw herself, every memory from when she was aware of things around two years. The time her mother fell in the kitchen when she was pregnant with her eight-year old brother, Joshua. She called 911, and help arrived.

“She would have died without for your help,” Jesus said.

Then she saw when Joshua hit his head in the pool and went under. He was two at the time, and she pulled him out.

“Another life saved,” Jesus said.

Then, when she was in fourth grade and, her friend, Sarah, struggled to read. She sat with her for hours, teaching her phonics.

“Sarah is a fine reader now,” Jesus said.

More moments followed, how she had been a positive force in the lives of many.

“It’s not your time. You must go back. I have a message for your two tormentors,” Jesus said. “And one for you. You must forgive them and tell them that I love them.”

*

She woke in the hospital, her parents hovering over her. She missed all of December and returned to school in mid-January. When Noel saw her two persecutors, she smiled and approached them.

“You should have stayed dead,” one of them said.

“I forgive you both, and Jesus loves you with a love so utterly complete it cannot be measured.”

Both girls stood with their mouths open as Noel turned and left them in the hall.

Word Count 1,008

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think in the comments. N. R. Williams

 

WEP Close Encounters

Greetings all WEP’ers and visitors. If you don’t know what WEP is, Write, Edit, Publish. It’s a bloghop that takes different writing challenges so you and I can flex our writing muscles. But, if you don’t want to write a story, that’s okay too. Post pictures or tell us about something related to the prompt going on in your life. Are you a poet? Hit us up with something wonderful. To read what others have written go here.

For June 2023, our prompt is the movie, Close Encounters. The good news is, you don’t have to be an abductee or an alien to participate. Our lovely host are Nila, and Jemi.

 

Here’s my story.

These characters are from my on going sweet romance, 5 Friends & Lovers, available on Amazon, Kindle Vella. This particular episode will be interwoven into some future spot.

Characters:

Scott: A comedian

David: A suspense author

Doug: A high school gym teacher/coach

To keep down the characters, their ladies are elsewhere.

 

Tagline: Alien Discussion

Close Encounter or Not

David, Scott, and Doug sat around the living room while their ladies were in the kitchen making lunch.

“Did you hear the *Elvis Theater is running classic Sci/Fi movies?” Doug asked.

“Which ones?” Scott asked, leaning forward to lift his cup of coffee.

“The remake of, The Day The Earth Stood Still, War of the Worlds, and classics, ET, and Close Encounters.  They’re showing them mid-week on Wednesday, one at a time,” Doug said.

“I love Close Encounters,” David said.

“Me too,” Scott said. “Richard Dreyfus went insane and made a mess of his home. My mother found that disturbing, but I laughed. Then there’s ET, staring a turtle without his shell flying away in a Christmas ornament.”

Doug and David both laughed.  

“I thought we could take our babes. Wanna do that together?” Doug asked.

“Wednesday night?” Scott repeated.

“Yeah,” Doug said.

“They aren’t playing all of them the same Wednesday?” David asked.

“Nope,” Doug said. “One at a time.”

“I’m in now to convince our ladies,” David said.

“Do either of you believe in aliens and UFOs,” Scott asked.

“I think it’s a possibility,” Doug said.

“UFOs are now UAPs,” David said.

“What does that mean?” Doug asked.

“Unidentified aerial phenomenon,” David said.

“I find it difficult to believe a bunch of gray aliens are running around abducting people. If they came after me, I’d ask, why don’t you wear sandals to go along with your nudity,” Scott said.

David and Doug laughed again.

“Actually,” David said. “Some believe they are wearing a body suit.”

“That makes sense,” Doug said.

“Where’s the zipper,” Scott quipped, and the other two smirked.

“So, what planet do they come from?” Doug asked.

“The powers that be are debating that, naming several locations. I can’t remember exactly what they said,” David answered.

“You seem to know a lot about it,” Doug said.

“I know a little. I watch the various shows, mostly to get story ideas.”

“You write suspense, don’t you? How do aliens and detectives merge?” Scott sipped his coffee.

“Yeah, how does that work?” Doug sat back and crossed one leg over the other at the ankle.

“I really just get ideas about locations and people, too,” David said.

“Like what?” Doug asked.

“Well,” David said. “One show I watched featured a man who has been abducted since childhood. As a young man, he took his girlfriend on a camping trip. The aliens showed up, froze her, and then they inspected her and told him she wasn’t good enough. Afterward, his girlfriend, a Christian, left him. Later, he became Born-Again, and the aliens haven’t been back.

“An entire group of people who believe the aliens are really demons and quote Bible verses to support that idea.”

“Demons?!” Scott and Doug said together.

David held up both hands. “I’m just reporting what I saw on a show. I have no opinion, one way or the other.

“Another show I watched,” David continued. “Claims that Bigfoot is brought here by aliens because there are UAPs whenever there are Bigfoot sightings.”

“You watch some pretty weird shows,” Doug said.

“That I do.”

“So, which movie is showing first?” Scott asked.

“This Wednesday, it’s Close Encounters,” Doug said.

To that, Scott started whistling the Close Encounter alien tune.

Word Count 552

*The Elvis theater is a discount theater in Colorado. All the shows David has watched, I have watched and is true. And, I watch that stuff for the same reason.

I hope you enjoyed the story. All critique is okay by me. Comments are encouraged.

Announcement: My books are on sale for 99cents. See links on the side. And, the last book in the series, book 4, The Curse of Renwyk is now available. Below is the Amazon link. It’s not on my website yet.

                                                Amazon.com

                                                            Amazon/uk

                                                            Amazon/au $1.09

Thank you,

Nancy

Moonlight Sonata Write Edit Publish August bloghop 2022

 Welcome to this month's WEP challenge. There's still time to join the fun. Simply go here and sign up. You can share pictures, write a poem or short story or even share a memory. You can also view what others in this bloghop have done.

I want to thank the ladies who volunteer to help: Denise, Olga, Laura, Renee, Nila and Jemma.

Want to listen to Moonlight Sonata? Click here. 

Tag line: When life is stressful, time off is everything.

 Moonlight Sonata

Beethoven

Jessica leaned back in the rattan chair and shut her eyes. She breathed in deep the scents of tropical flowers, the smell of sizzling pork, and sunscreen. It had been five years since her life was free of stress. She shut her eyes and smiled. The waitress brought her a Piña Colada. She sipped the smooth coconut and pineapple drink. She’d never had it before but while in Hawaii, she thought.

“May I join you, Mademoiselle?”

Jessica opened her eyes to see a man, forty maybe, standing before her, straw hat in hand with brown hair and eyes. Suspicion filled her mind immediately. But his French accent soothed her fears as well.

Why not? “Sure,” she said.

He smiled and settled into the rattan chair next to her. “Is this your first time in Hawaii?” he asked.

“It is, and you?”

“Oui, a dream come true.” He played with his hat moving it in a circle.

Nervous, Jessica thought.” It is that.” She agreed. “Very relaxing.”

The show began, and they looked at the musicians and dancers in grass skirts.

Women have come a long way, Jessica thought. The French guy smiled, viewing the show. His drink came, champagne. The show ended, and they joined the line to help themselves to what the hotel touted as the traditional Hawaii dinner.

“I am Jules Cousteau, and you are?” He sat, once more, in the rattan chair, his plate on the table between them.

“Jessica Turner,” she said and cut into the pork.

They ate, and Jessica glanced at him. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he had laugh lines crinkled beside his eyes. That was a good sign, she supposed.

“Where in France are you from, Jules?” she asked.

He swallowed, wiped his mouth, and said. “Ah, Paris.” He pronounced it with an ‘e’ sound at the end. “And you?”

“New York.” She didn’t have the classic Brooklyn accent. He lifted both brows. “Born and raised in Colorado,” she added.

“Colorado? Another destination someday. And you, will you visit France?”

“Maybe.” She looked away from him at all the couples, most retired, which surprised her.

“Are you here alone, Jessica?”

Her eyes pulled away from the couple she’d been studying. “I am, and you?”

“No, my daughters are in the pool.”

“In the pool?”

“Oui, they are teenagers.”

Jessica nodded, wondering where the wife was. Probably in the pool too.

“What are your plans while here in Hawaii?” he asked.

“I want to see the volcano for sure,” Jessica said.

“I plan to see it too. Would you honor me by coming with me?”

“I think your wife should go with you.” Not in this life, gigolo!

“She has passed. Cancer.”

She caught the sad note at the end of his sentence. Slight, but still there.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” she was glad she hadn’t spoken out loud about her earlier thought. “I’d be happy for the company. Will you bring your girls?” Jessica hadn’t planned on hooking up with a man, let alone a Frenchman with family. But, there was something about him that made her feel at ease.

“Shall we go into their lounge?”

Instant warning signs popped in her head. “Why?”

“They have a piano.”

“Do you play?”

“Oui.”

Hmm…that was interesting. This was starting to be a lot like a Hallmark movie. They stood and walked toward the hotel lounge together.

“What do you do?” he asked.

“Me?” Her job rushed back into her thoughts, and she could feel her energy drain. “I’m a prosecutor.”

“Lawyer?”

“Not exactly. I go after big-time criminals. Most of my work is tracking down witnesses, collecting evidence, and putting the case together for the New York DA.”

“I am impressed, Mademoiselle. I have never previously known anyone who worked in such an important job.”

“Thanks,” she said.

They entered the lounge and sat near the piano. A man was playing Elvis Presley. They ordered more drinks, she a wine cooler and he more of the bubbly.  The atmosphere was beyond chill, with a Hawaiian sunset painted on all the walls.

“What do you do, Jules?” she asked. It was only fair, after all.

The pianist got up and left for a break.

“I will show you,” Jules said. He stood and went to the grand piano. Sitting, he stretched his fingers, shut his eyes, and began playing  Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

Jessica couldn’t stop her mouth from opening slightly. Jules seamlessly went from that song to another one of Beethoven’s classics. She loved classical music. So soothing.

When he finished, Jules stood and shook the hand of the piano man who’d returned. Then, he came back to his seat.

“That was beautiful. I love Beethoven.” Jessica smiled.

Jules nodded. “I thought you might.”

“So, you play the piano for a living?”

“I do. I am a member of the Paris orchestra and also visit other venues. I’ll be in New York next month.”

*

The remainder of her vacation was spent with Jules and his girls. All of them were excited to meet someone from New York. They peppered her with questions and begged their papa, as they called him, to take them when he was to have his concert.

Home and alone, Jessica flipped open her laptop and started her research on Jules Cousteau. He was a well-known and highly respected concert pianist and widow at forty-seven. It mentioned his three daughters too.

He hadn’t lied to her. Not even once. A huge plus since she was sick of liars. Warm memories of their Hawaiian adventures filled her with happiness. She pulled out the ticket and backstage pass he’d given her for his concert. In a month, they’d be reunited. For the first time in five years, she felt hopeful. Maybe life wasn’t as bad as she had come to believe.

Word Count: 973

Comments are always welcome and if you want to add critique that's okay.

If you live in America, do Kindle Vella. I'm finally making money.

Coming, Nov. 30, 2022

Book 4 and the end of the series. 

A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall WEP Bloghop

 WEP challenge for April, 2022 inspired by Bob Dylan’s, A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall. Write, Edit, Publish is a bloghop started by Denise Covey. The ladies, Denise, Nila, Laura, Jemi, Renee and Olga serve as moderators. If you’d like to participate, we welcome you. To visit the blogs of others who also wrote stories, poems or posted pictures or did something else to highlight the prompt, go here. 

 

Tag: Life and love overcome.

A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall

Rain and hail pelted Annie’s car as she sat in the parking lot staring at the prison. He is in there. The stuff of nightmares seared her mind, replaying that fatal night’s terror. 

Her faith had prevented her from aborting the child. His child! Despite the ugly truth, she loved her blue eyed baby boy. No longer a baby, but always a baby to her. Naming him had been so hard. Even after his birth, she’d struggled. Alone in the hospital, holding her precious bundle conceived in violence. Still, that night had motivated her to become a lawyer. As such she helped other women in the same situation. Though most of her clients had been raped by their boyfriends, not a serial rapist who turned murderer only one victim away from her ordeal.

He won’t face death, but he should. Why should he continue to be allowed to breathe, when he’d raped twenty-two women and the last ten he’d murdered? Would his son become a monster like him? Her Jessie, named for a favorite uncle. No, Jessie would be a good man, she made sure of that. She’d given him a dog and a cat, along with unconditional love. He was kind, thoughtful and passed every subject in school with high scores, usually above 90 points.

Jessie didn’t know the truth about his father and if she could help it, he never would. She put her Dylan CD in the cars player and turned the volume up. She wanted to drown out the sound of hard rain, the windshield wipers and her thoughts. Annie had always appreciated Bob Dylan’s poetic music and this song, A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall, was especially appropriate.

If she were a monster, she’d enter the prison with a loaded gun, shoot anyone who stood in her way and go to his cell, were she’d pup bullets into his face. But she wasn’t a monster. She was woman, survivor, mother, friend, confident and professional trial attorney. The men she tried were scum. Her Jessie was brilliant, and compassionate. He would bring joy to many. Out of fear and sorrow I birthed joy!

Annie put the car in gear, backed up and then pulled out of the parking lot headed home. Once there, she’d hug the gift that was Jessie.

 

Word Count: 388

 As I listened to A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall, I adapted a few of the lyrics to write this story. A story of violence and hope. If you enjoyed my story or not, please leave a comment. Any type of comment is fine. I'm a big girl. 

 

Head over to my website to sign up for my newsletter and receive a free short story: Loren’s Choice. Thanks, Nancy

Loren’s parents want her to choose from the young men in her village and marry. But, that’s not what Loren wants. While at the village well, a stranger arrives. Tall and handsome, he intrigues her. When the emperor’s soldiers are spotted. The threat is upon them, Loren could become a blood sacrifice. Before she can run, the stranger grabs her and gallops for the covering of the forest. What will happen next? 

Website link: https://authornrwilliams.com/

All You Need is Love WEP

 Write, Edit, Publish February 2022. WEP was founded by Denise Covey and brings together many writer’s, poets, artists, and regular folks to participate in a bloghop every few months. In addition to Denise, WEP has a few helpers: Renee, Nilla, Laura, Jemi, and Olga. Thank you, ladies. To read what others have posted go here.

 This is the year of music, and to start things off on the musical notes our song is written and sung by The Beatles, ‘All You Need is Love!’ To listen to the song, go here.

I once heard Paul McCartney answer a questions posed to him about the Beatles promoting love and anti-war messages. He said, “…It could have been the other way.” That made me think of original rap music that used a lot of hate speech and I was thankful to have spent my teen years listening to, and singing songs about love.

In more news, I’m adding a new genre to my writing life, Sweet Romance, so my story below is both sweet and romantic. I hope you enjoy. N. R. Williams (Nancy).

 

 

Tag: When love comes around again.

 

Love, love, love!

 

Lucy slipped the Beatles CD into the player and began to dance while she dusted to ‘All You Need is Love.’ Her parents were huge Beatles fans, and she grew up singing and dancing to their music. Now older and retired, she found this a great way to keep in shape.

Thanks to her late husband, Bruce, her three-bedroom ranch was paid for. . And so was her Tesla, parked in the garage. Luv, her daughter by her first husband, an abusive jerk, had finished university debt-free, thanks to Bruce. And he adopted her, dotting on her. Now she was a Science teacher and married, living only a few blocks away.

The CD changed songs, and she slipped into the guest bathroom to wipe it down. Her cell chirped. Removing the phone from her pocket, she answered.

“Hi, Melinda.”

“Hay, girl, are you ready?” Melinda asked.

“As ready as I can be.”

“I can’t wait.” Melinda referred to their planned trip to Scotland. She was a big ‘Outlander’ fan, and Lucy liked the show enough to follow Melinda’s long discourse about each character.

*

A month later, she found herself standing in line with Melinda. Luv had dropped them off.

The trip was long and uneventful. Jet lag was a problem the first three days. Then, from the time they woke to the time they went to bed, they toured the ‘Outlander’ sites. But, Lucy had to admit, she was having fun. When their week in Scotland was over, they hired a man to drive them to Liverpool, and Lucy had a list of sights made famous by the Beatles.

Their last week was to be spent in London. They sat together in the hotel’s upscale dining room, looking at the menu with all the delicious offerings. Melinda quickly ordered, but Lucy stared at the menu as if her brain had shut off.

“May I join you?” A man with an impeccable British accent said.

“Of course, I’m Melinda, and this is Lucy.”

Lucy looked up then as he sat and saw a handsome older man with gray hair and a prominent nose that wasn’t too big.

“My name is Henry Spencer.” His smile dazzled, and Lucy could see Melinda blush.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“Are you having trouble deciding what to order?” he asked.

“Yeah, so many choices,” Lucy said.

“May I recommend the Beef Wellington?”

When the waiter came, he ordered champagne. “To celebrate our meeting,” he said.

They enjoyed their meal and ordered dessert too, though Lucy only took one bite.

On their second bottle of champagne, he asked. “Where in the Colonies are you from?”

“Denver, Colorado,” Melinda blurted out.

“Ah Denver, I’ve always wanted to visit.” He smiled at Lucy with a massive dose of charm, reminding her of Mr. Abuse, her second husband who’d charmed her initially. But, once the punches started, she left.

“A man like you must be married,” Lucy said, and Melinda jabbed her with her fist under the table.

“Oh I was,” he said. “But my wife passed on three years ago, and my sons are married with their own busy lives.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucy said.

“Lucy’s a widow too,” Melinda burst out. Then, it was her turn to jab Melinda.

“My condolences,” Henry said.

She nodded. “Spencer was Princess Diana’s maiden name wasn’t it? Are you related?”

“Yes, it was, and no, there are quite a few Spencer’s.”

Melinda giggled like a schoolgirl, and Lucy looked at her like, what is wrong with you?

“May I offer you my services to tour London? I have the entire week off.”

Lucy would’ve declined, but Melinda beat her to it with an excited yes.

*

The week passed much too quickly. Finally, Henry gave them a ride to the airport.

“I should have asked sooner,” Lucy said. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m in the import, export business.”

“How interesting,” Melinda said.

Black market, Lucy thought. But the truth was, she believed him a pretty nice man.

*

Once back home, Lucy slept for a week, off and on. Her internal clock was seriously messed up.

Luv came over with her husband, Rob, for dinner two Sunday’s later. He was a firefighter, and Lucy liked him a lot. They were all about to sit down when the doorbell rang.

Lucy went to the door and opened it to find Henry Spencer standing there.

“I thought I’d take the plunge and come for a visit,” he said.

Lucy remained, her mouth open, and then said, “Come in. We were just about to have dinner.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t trouble you.”

“No trouble at all.” When they reached the kitchen table, Lucy introduced everyone, and Luv pulled another plate, quickly making a place for him.

“My mom makes the best spaghetti,” Luv said.

“I love spaghetti,” Henry said.

Lucy served him everyone a salad, and everyone helped themselves to the main dish.

At the end of dinner, while Luv and Rob did dishes, Henry leaned toward Lucy and said. “I’m hoping you’ll give me a tour of your beautiful city.”

Lucy smiled. “I’ll do better than that, I’ll take you to my favorite mountain town.”

 

Word count: 871

Cover Reveal! I'm so excited to announce my 3rd in series book, The Emperor of the Moon and Stars. Available everywhere, April 1, 2022. I will have a pre-order available soon.

Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment.

 

To sign up for my free newsletter and get a free short story, or to order a book written by little old me, go to my website. 

WEP, Freedom of Speech

 Time for the WEP bloghop flash fiction stories, pictures, poems, or thoughts in regard to the subject: This month it is Freedom of Speech. I want to thank the fine ladies of Write, Edit, Publish for this opportunity, Denise, Nila, Laura, Jemi, Renee and Olga. If you'd like to post something too, it's not too late.

Freedom of Speech:

 Mary took a breath and watched as the king’s soldiers took her father from their estate. The captain thrust a parchment at her mother. Turned and left to be replaced by Lord Beliveau.

“Pack what you can carry, Madam. This estate and all in it now belongs to me. You and your daughter must leave at once.”

“Why? What has happened?”

“Your husband has betrayed our king, speaking against him in the public arena.”

Belivera followed them. “Only what you can carry.”

“But I brought this from home,” her mother said, holding up the china vase.

“You have no possessions. You’re lucky I’m letting you keep your clothes.”

Much later, Mary held her mother as she wept. No one would help them, and they found themselves in an old ally between buildings, freezing. Snow began to fall.

Word count 138

 The subject of this post, Freedom of Speech is something that I can’t do in a flash fiction story. So this short piece would need to turn into a short story or novella for me to do it justice. Instead, I hope as you read this it will remind you that not too long ago, none of us had freedom of speech.

 Wikipedia:

Freedom of speech[2] (FoS or FOS) is a principle that supports the freedom of an individual or a community to articulate their opinions and ideas without fear of retaliation, censorship, or legal sanction. Freedom of expression (FoE or FOE) is generally used synonymously but, in legal sense, includes any activity of seeking, receiving, and imparting information or ideas, regardless of the medium used.

 It’s also important to note that threatening someone is not freedom of speech.

 Wikipedia:

Freedom of speech and expression is not absolute, and common limitations or boundaries to freedom of speech relate to libel, slander, obscenity, pornography, sedition, incitement, fighting words, classified information, copyright violation, trade secrets, food labeling, non-disclosure agreements, the right to privacy, dignity, the right to be forgotten, public security, and perjury. Justifications for such include the harm principle, proposed by John Stuart Mill in On Liberty, which suggests that "the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others."[4] Idea of the "offense principle" is also used in the justification of speech limitations, describing the restriction on forms of expression deemed offensive to society, considering factors such as extent, duration, motives of the speaker, and ease with which it could be avoided.[4]

 As an American, I haven’t thought twice about freedom of speech in all my years until the last 5. Now I know, that I can lose my freedoms if the wrong person comes to power. You can find me at the voting booth.

To read what others have written or posted go here.

In other news, I'm excited to announce that my first book, The Treasures of Carmelidrium is now available in paperback. There are two ways to order. 

One, go to your local bookstore and request they order copies from IngramSparks. The Treasures of Carmelidrium, by N. R. Williams

Two, for USA customers only because shipping is outrageous, send me an email and I'll send my PayPal information: Cost is $19.99 plus $5.00 shipping. You'll get a signed copy. 

My email address is: gillael@aol.com

Be sure to tell me in the subject line that you want to order your very own signed copy of Treasures. I get a lot of spam and I wouldn't want to delete your request.

 Coming in September 2021

The Beginning of a Legend, a novella in the Chronicles of Gil-Lael.

And

The Rise of Lord Sinon, Book 2 in The Chronicles of Gil-Lael.

Thanks you for reading. Please leave a comment.

Nancy

 

 

 Time for the WEP challenge. This month the prompt is, 'Great Wave.' I want to thank Denise Covey for starting this group along with the lovely ladies who assist, Laura, Nila, Yolanda, and Olga. I appreciate your hard work. And now for my submission:

René Descombes

René Descombes lifted his catch of fish and stepped from the small boat. He could see the bonfire on top of the third hill to celebrate St. John’s Day.  His friends and fellow fishermen joined him as they trudged up the beach toward the hills.

Marram grass grew along the sand dune. By the time they reached the third hill clay replaced the sand. The sun had slipped behind billowing thunder clouds. René could taste the moist air as well as the smoke from numerous contained fires.

Before him were the tall white sea cliffs of France. To his left stretched a thick forest that climbed the bluff. On his right were more hills and beyond that the vast ocean which connected to the channel where their fishing boats rested on the shore.

The people of Leblanc had gathered around their cooking fires and took the food to the tables by the bonfire. Laughter filled the air. René’s wife, Margo stood stirring one of the pots.

He dumped the fish on a nearby table and pulled her in for a kiss, rubbing her extended belly where the babe grew. “You are as beautiful as you were this morning.”   

“And you as charming.” Her hands rubbed his back before she pushed him away while smiling. She cut his fish.

Leblanc held nearly seven hundred souls, all gathered for the feast. Tomorrow, they would travel several leagues inland to their church for St. John’s Mass.  

Steam from his wife’s pot lifted over the round edge and smelled of onion and greens. She filled her hands with the prepared fish and dumped it all in, then wiped her hands on the apron.

“I don’t see Mayor Hugues,” René said.

“Nor will you.” Margot laughed. “Not until the feast is ready and there is no more work to be done.”

René looked south toward the white cliffs that jutted straight up from the village. At the top was the mayor's grand house.

Without warning, the ground rumbled and shook beneath his feet. He righted himself and took Margot’s arm to prevent her from falling.

“What is it?” Margot asked.

The rumbling stopped for a second, then started again. A great crack splintered the cliffs. The sound like thunder made him cover his ears. Lifting his eyes to the precipice he saw that the cracks in it were massive and then slabs of rock separated and fell bringing the mayor's house with it. On impact, the rumbling noise crushed those houses too close and shot out boulders toward his fellow villagers. Screams replaced the laughter, several of the people were hit and flew backward toward the channel, crushed by the boulders. 

René took a step, his intent to run and help. Margot caught his arm. “No, you can’t help.”

He remained with her and glanced at their own hut, further from the village than the rest and far from the cliff. Thank God, his hut still stood.

The cries of his fellows had become a blare of noise from screams, crying, and voices yelling making it impossible to understand the shouts. The bonfire had escaped its enclosure, setting marrow grass on fire and a few of the villagers as well. Some rolled on the ground while other villagers helped by using blankets to put out the flames. Still more ran down the hill toward the sea only to fall before reaching it and die. The fire then leapt from their bodies to spread unchecked.

The tables with food had all overturned along with the cooking pots. The pleasant aroma of fish stew was replaced by burning flesh.

The earth heaved upward, and he pulled Margot away from her pot. He took her hand and ran further up the hill. Away from the fire that soon reached the place where they’d been standing.

“René!”

He turned to see what she was pointing at. The ocean had sucked backward. He could make out fish stranded on the beach. Then terror as the water returned, the tide growing higher in seconds, overtopping the dunes. He grabbed Margot’s hand again and they ran further up the hill toward their hut. When he looked back, the ocean had swallowed the first two sets of hills and the one they had been standing on was crumpling into the tidal wave. The scent of salt swallowed the smoke from the fires, while the roar of the waves replaced the villager's cries.

He pulled Margot down and they both rested on their knees. To his horror, he witnessed hundreds falling into the surge. A great cry lifted from the women who’d had the presence of mind to run with their children to higher ground. They hugged their children close who were all screaming so that the noise was deafening.

Rene clasped Margot close as she trembled while stillness settled around them. Shocking in its quiet after so much noise. The only sound that remained was that of the waves of water receding.

“What have we done to displease God?”

To that, René had no answer. They both remained on their knees, in shock at the horrors. He became aware that Margot was shivering and put his arms around her. She wept on his shoulder.

The storm arrived and lightning lit up the black sky. The resounding thunder made him jerk. He hadn’t realized until now that dusk had become night. The clouds above opened and a downpour drenched him.  

“Come.” He pulled Margot to her feet.

Their hut was close and while the white cliffs had spared it, the earthquake had not.

“Wait here.” René entered the pitch-black building and felt for the blankets with his hands. A second rumbling made part of the roof that still stood fall and he managed to avoid being hit. Grabbing the woolen covers, he turned back toward the door.

“René!”

“Do not worry, I am well.” He emerged from the building and took her hand.

“Where will we go?”

…

Word Count 997

This is a deleted excerpt from my short story, The Beginning of a Legend. I changed the protagonist to that babe growing in her belly, Arnoux. If all goes well, I will be releasing this story along with Book 2 in The Chronicles of Gil-Lael, The Rise of Lord Sinon, later this summer.

Comments are welcome.

Nancy

To read what others have submitted for this June challenge, go here.