Just Saying

I awakened this morning to the chiming tunes of dripping raindrops. I peered out the window, saw wet ground and cloudy sky. Tempted to snuggle beneath covers and float on wispy dreams, I tossed that thought aside and contemplated something very precious – life.

This morning, one of the world’s most sexy women won’t wake – shot to death while sitting on the toilet in her boyfriend’s home on Valentine’s Day. The question: premeditated murder or tragic accident? Let’s hope the latter will prove true.

If I turn on the news, there’s more of the same – death, violence, ill against each other . . .

When creating black moments for book characters, one doesn’t have to search deep into the imagination, but look at real life. Truth is weirder than fiction; that has become all too real.

Human life is precious. Let’s treat it as such.

Take time today to show someone how much you truly care.

Just saying . . .

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Comfort Zone

Hi All,

I just read a friend’s blog over at Word Wranglers. If you haven’t checked it out yet, please do. She’s talking about Comfort Zones, so I thought I would entertain that same thought here. You know, it’s very easy sometimes to stay put in our comfort zones. I really want to say that it’s very easy to stay trapped in our comfort zones and hard to try things that are new and different.

Just recently, I took a workshop on writing flash fiction. I had the opportunity to write super-short stories that were 250 words in length, on up to 1,000 words max. I had a blast! It was super fun, but not necessarily super easy. The task was the same as writing a full-length short story. The short fiction pieces needed a hook, conflict, and resolution, but with a twist at the end.

Speaking of comfort zones, I leaped totally out of my comfort zone and experimented with writing paranormal and historical fiction. I found these new genres quite fascinating. So sometimes, I’d say, experiencing the new can stimulate and spike writing!

Here is a sampling of my flash fiction writing! Please leave a comment and tell me what you think.

First Date

By

Arsoleen Woolcock

Mirrors don’t lie. They reflect what they see.

I’m beautiful – soft, caramel-colored skin; tawny eyes with gold flecks; lithe, slender body; long legs. Dressed in a tight-fitting, hip-hugging dress, I expect Dwayne’s head to spin.

I twirl my long, luxurious, waist-length tress. Wow, if it weren’t narcissistic, I’d be in love with myself, so I couldn’t blame a fellow for finding me irresistible. But thinking I’d have sex with him on the first date? Well, I’m not that kind of girl. The corners of my mouth curve into a smile. Tonight Dwayne would find out exactly what kind of girl I am.

Almost 8 o’clock. I have a date to keep. I wonder if he’ll still reek of fear? That’s why I enjoy meeting at Park Central. Most men know about the murders. Dwayne knew. I could see it in his eyes.

I grin, lick wet hungry lips.