Joan strolled around the tropical complex on a soft evening dotted above with stars.
Her trip to this island had been everything she hoped for on a solitary October vacation, escaping a stress-filled job, worrisome aging parents, and a soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. The days melted into each other as she strolled for hours on secluded beaches, sat at the ocean-view bar and slowly savored pink-umbrella drinks, avoiding the curious glances of those with family or lovers.
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I’m alone again. Toby is out on patrol. I accepted that he was a police officer when he asked me to marry him two years ago. I accept that he puts his life in danger every day for public safety. I accept that the men and women he works with on the police department are, as he says, “his family.”
But I am not accepting his third stint in three months of the late night shift.
Pixabay image by Brigitte Werner
“You’ve got to do it. Let me find one for you,” Savannah suggested.
Eve rolled her eyes. “I’ve already interviewed five potential bodyguards. They were all Neanderthals.”
Eve stood, all five feet of her in her billowy blue caftan, and faced her agent. She knew Savannah thought her eccentric; but hell, that’s what authors were supposed to be. Continue reading
When the cop stops her, Janine does her best to appear calm. Unworried.
She presses the button slowly so her driver’s side window slides open as if Janine has all the time in the world.
The policeman is big, burly, and surly.
“Crap,” Janine mutters.
“Driver’s license.”
Janine wills her hands to not shake as she pulls her wallet out of her purse and finds the fake ID. Continue reading
Written in response to D.W. Peach’s March Speculative Fiction Prompt
The rain falls so hard the trees appear to be weeping. I stand on the steep sidewalk waiting for the school bus, hair frizzing into tight curls but mouth curled up in a sweet grandmotherly smile.
My grandson turns seven today, and I’m determined to help him celebrate. Continue reading
roughwighting 