AW Blog Chain July: Independence and Slavery

This was supposed to be part of Absolute Write’s July Blog Chain, which had the prompt, Independence and Slavery.

However, I messed it up, kind of forgot about it and then still wanted to at least show there was something there, even it was written in about two hours.

Following my post is links to the other entries for July…

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Stan & His Wife:

Stan could not believe it.

There they were, arguing out in public like they usually would do after a few drinks, middle of the night on another rainy Saturday, one where the streetlights made the rain puddles in the parking lot seem like small lakes made of liquid silver.

Rainy Days

This post is part of the Absolute Write’s March Blog Chain, which was given the prompt: Rainy Days. Please see the links below the body of this post for the other blogs that contributed to this month’s chain.

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The dog refused to go potty.

This was a problem as it was pouring rain, windy and cold.

Alex pulled up the collar of his jacket against the wind and gave a little tug on the dog’s leash.

“Come on you dizzy dog, we have to go in, I’m freezing.”

But the Yellow lab sat down in the damp grass, staring up at his master with her ‘puppy dog’ eyes, then resumed  staring across the field towards the abandoned farmhouse and the highway beyond. Somewhere high above and off to the West, a low and ominous rumble of thunder rolled across the fields next to Alex’s house, pressing the matter.

Second Chances (Short Fiction)

This post is part of the Absolute Write Water Cooler’s February Blog chain, which can be seen here. The prompt this month was Second Chances, which lead me to imagine the short little scene that plays out below.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think in the comments and by sharing the posts around your favorite social networks if you like it!

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Second Chances:

The bus shook slightly as it took the turn and Robert’s stomach did a turn with it, rolling and gurgling at the motion. Some days were still like this, an endless struggle between himself and his body. He clinched even tighter to the manilla envelope between his fingers, wishing he had not taken a seat by the back of the bus near the wheel wells.