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He wore the dark blue parka with pride, and a bit of arrogance. It represented his attention to your security, his protection, preserving the rules. If there was anything noticeable that seemed slightly askew, he was your man. Any fear that might raise the hair on the back of your neck, he could handle it. This was Frank Overton’s mission, protector of the Overton Mall. There is no question he took his job very seriously, protecting his grandfather’s legacy.

William Overton was now seventy-five years of age, but still held an office in the security section of the mall, to the bewilderment of his family. He would never give up his position of authority until they pried the weapon from his cold dead hands, a truth he loved to threaten, he thought in a comical way. The actual truth was, he relied on his grandson Frank to do anything dangerous. Lately his hand started to have spells of shaking. The first time he noticed it was trying to light his daily cigarette. He had cut his habit down to one a day, right after lunch and before his nap. While holding the matchbook, his hand started to shake uncontrollably, causing a burn abrasion on his left hand. The flame left a semicircle burn scar that constantly reminded him of his age and dwindling capacity for the job.

Frank knew nothing of his grandfather’s weakness, but absorbing the full time responsibility was something he always wanted. He had been publicly offended by the police department when they told him he was unfit for active duty at such a young age. Frank’s grandad saved the day, hiring him at the mall. Frank took the job and made sure the name Overton was prominent on his jacket. He adored the recognition when people realized it was also the name of the mall. Frank didn’t realize he was seen as a shoe in by jealous employees.

“Officer” Frank was always nearby if there was a suspected shoplifter about, or someone in need of help. He was especially liked by the old ladies who got their walkers stuck on the escalator, or moms needing a child rescued. William Overton could be proud.

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https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/05/14/wordle-196/

The crash of wave and snap of sail sung to her. She held to the main mast as she watched him scurrying about, preparing it all carefully for their adventure. It was dawn and the red sun glow seemed a perfect beginning. She was realizing a dream coming true from childhood books of sailing on the high seas; a childish view of sailing, the knowledge involved to attempt such an adventure, and the dangers involved. As she observed him, rechecking every line, every pulley, engine parts and sail cloth, she was naively confident, thinking he was truly an ancient seaman incarnate. The sun was shining, everything was perfect for the first day of their trip.

Being ever vigilant in pursuance of her dream, Paula frequented the habitats of sailors, seamen, and listened to their tales of experience on salty waters. She would sit for hours irresistibly drawn, putting herself in their story, and feeling as if she were there with them. It was one of these times she was especially fascinated by George the Gambler. That was his name in the area, and a telling clue she ignored at the time. She seemed to gravitate towards George and as she grew more familiar, decided to approach him with her idea.

George the Gambler was just that, still an experienced sailor, had been in tough situations and lived to speak of them. To Paula’s delight, she sat mesmerized by his easy flowing stories, and not once giving a thought to their viability. She decided to hire him for a trip to experience what it was like to be out on open water, sailing free in the wind. She longed for the salt water drops on her tanned skin. Their conversation overheard by others caused another old seaman to follow her from the establishment and pose a word of warning. Paula was so enthralled with the aspect of an actual sailing trip, she ignored his advice.

The first day of sailing was everything she imagined. Everything seemed in order and any hesitation she might have had disappeared. That evening she only saw water surrounding them, a chill in the air and fell asleep quickly, listening to the waves against the craft. Her dream was no longer a fantasy, and she felt proud of herself for being brave enough to accomplish it.

Paula suddenly awoke to rain, darkened skies, and thunder. The distant lightning frightened her and she thought of how they would escape its power, if they would survive. She turned to George who appeared less than confident and a creeping feel of foreboding ran up her spine. Surely George knew what to do. She grabbed the Sou’wester and pea coat George had packed for her. Wrapping herself up against the wind and rain she wondered why the storm came so fast. Surely George would have checked weather warnings and outlined a safe route for their voyage.

As she watched him scrambling to reroute their course away from the storm, and raise two distress flags, reality sunk in as she remembered the warning she received and George’s apt name.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/05/11/first-line-friday-may-11th-2018/

Is this all I am? A body full of organs, blood, bones? I am shocked to see this is all there is after life. As I drift into nothingness, as I see myself disappearing, did anything I do really matter? Did my body betray me? My mind survives so far, but I doubt it will be here long. At least I hope I am not adrift with nothing to see or hear, just floating.

I glimpse what is left of myself and wonder why did I exist at all? Did I make a difference. . . to anyone? Did I leave a small mark on the world that surrounded me? Did I do my best?

I tried. I loved wholeheartedly, lived without restraint, without borders on my emotions; I’ve lead a good life I think–a life with hope and dreams, some even came true, but now I wonder, was it enough?

I guess it doesn’t matter now, it’s almost over, I can barely see my reflection in the clouds. I would call for help, a hand to keep me from leaving even this part of the nothing, but there’s no one to hear, no noise, no others by me, I am alone and fading. . .gone.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/05/15/photo-challenge-214/

The stage was set, Pete’s dream was about to come true. The young actor was about to have his first real acting job. He memorized every page of the script, he was ready to perform. Pete was trying out for the role of a troubled teen in a gang. So far from his real life, he was anxious to see if he could portray the character well enough to pass the audition.

Pete showed up early and approached the stage manager for any last minute instructions. He wanted to be sure he knew exactly where to stand to be heard by the producer. The man showed him the props, one of which was a gun. Pete had never handled a gun before, was unsure. Thankfully the manager showed him what to do.

As the scene started, there were other actors on stage and Pete was supposed to enter from stage left, brandishing the gun. As he stepped into his position, the scene escalated into a fight. Pete was supposed to yell a warning and then fire the gun. This was a rehearsal for the other actors, but an audition for Pete. As he waved the gun about, it went off. Thinking it was just a harmless cap gun, no one seemed surprised except Pete. The shot was real and accidentally hit the producer.

After everyone settled down and the producer suffering a slight flesh wound, was taken to the hospital, Pete was the only person still frantic. The “joke” was on Pete. The stage manager and actors were tired of the condescending attitude of the producer and decided to teach him a lesson. Pete thought maybe acting wasn’t for him after all.

Weekly Writing Challenge #141

Joe was set to propose. He had been thinking about it for the last three years. He decided it was time to tell his girlfriend Mary he was ready to settle down. Naturally he was nervous and knew he wanted the best for his girlfriend. She was “so fine” as he often said to his buddies, he wanted to buy the best engagement ring he could afford.

Perusing the jewelry store cases, he was shocked at the prices of rings with diamonds. He asked the manager if there were any other rings available for engagement purposes. The manager told Joe he could probably afford a cubic zirconia and she would never know the difference.

Joe proposed last evening and as he got down on one knee and popped the question, he held open the ring box.

Mary smiled and picked it up for a look. Her smile turned into a smirk. “Three long years I have waited for this moment and all I get is this Rinky dinky zirconia? The answer is no!”

May Writing Prompts

Monday and the middle of May already! Even our weather is warming up, and getting much needed rain here on the prairie parts of WY. Come join in to ceenphotography.com‘s Share Your World and here is a copy of her post: Have some fun and answer her questions below.

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My answers:

1. This sandwich could really use some tomatoes that actually taste like tomatoes.

2. My least favorite candy is huge gum balls or Twizzlers. Give me a Red Vine anytime.

3. I am a Virgo. Nuff said. I think it’s a lot like horoscopes, so general you can probably read into it whatever you need or want. Btw, is that materialistic I read for my sign? That’s not me at all. Now if you want real concrete advice, get some fortune cookies.🤓

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This was the week that was. My oldest granddaughter graduating from college with honors. August she starts medical school! Had a picnic in a park with actual trees blooming , grass and flowers. Perfect.

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https://ceenphotography.com/2018/05/14/share-your-world-may-14-2018/

Today is a day I’ve been waiting for and dreading all at the same time. I am an emotional wreck. I have had lots of emotional days and happenings in the past few months and today is the worst but hopefully the best and will clear up the Cloudy dimensions in my head.

I don’t like to admit all of my fears in this blog, but doing so keeps me from visiting them on my family. They know the basics, but the real nitty gritty I try to keep to myself.

May Writing Prompts

Guess a mistake

I did make

On poetry

On this date

So Ronovan, I apologize

If my poem’s not the size

That you want on your site

There was no intended slight

Sorry if I caused a plight

I’ll change it now and make it right.

☆☆☆☆

https://rugby843.blog

https://wp.me/p23sd-14SK

“Well, Joe, I guess that about wraps things up. This was an easy one.” Mike closed his notepad as his gloved hand picked up the most damning clue. The kitchen crime scene was a simple no-brainer.

“Yeah, it always helps when the guilty party trips up!” Joe laughed. The two senior detectives had been down this road so many times, and this was giving them a chuckle. “Yup, leaving prints that lead straight from the crime always helps!” They pocketed their papers and turned to leave. A news reporter was fast on the scene and asked what happened.

“I guess there’s no harm in telling you now. It’s all over.”

“Yup. The cat’s in custody, and the spilled milk is all cleaned up. That is, what’s left of it. The milk soaked paws were a giveaway. The old lady left the milk out after creaming her coffee. Heard a big crash and came in to find a broken pitcher of milk. We have the suspect in custody and we’re on our way to the pound. She should have known better than keeping her kitchen windows open. An old lady living alone? That’s just asking for trouble.”

Time To Write: Random Words 9 [Creative Writing Prompt – Mystery Month]

A memory inked

A permanent tattoo made

Seen as body art

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #201 Body&Art