Meddling

“Dennis tells me Erin is getting married,” said Jim, dropping the grocery bag onto the counter.

“Oh Veronica must be thrilled,” said Gladys. “She’s had her daughter’s grandiose wedding planned for years.”

“Apparently Erin’s all upset about it. She and Jason want a simple ceremony on Blueberry Hill where they met.”

“And so they should,” huffed Gladys grabbing her purse. “SOMEBODY had better get over there and remind Veronica that all she really wants is for her daughter to be happy.”

“I found my thrill, on Blueberry Hill,” cooned Jim and headed for the study with an impish grin. 

***

I wrote this in response to Charli Mills’ August 10, 2017 Flash Fiction Challenge. In 99 words (no more, no less) create a story that includes music and berries. And as always, she suggests we go where the prompt leads us.

The first thing that came into my mind was the song, “Blueberry Hill”. And I felt the two characters that would be familiar with the tune were Gladys and Jim. I’m pleased they returned. You can check out some of their other stories here and here.

‘Blueberry Hill’ was written by Vincent Rose, Al Lewis and Larry Stock in 1940. It was part of an American western sound track ‘The Singing Hill’ and sung by Gene Autry in the movie. It did not become an international hit until Fats Domino recorded it in 1956 and in 2011 it was ranked #82 in Rolling Stone magazine’s list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.

 

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Wildfire


An eerie silence descended upon the acrid night air. Lori’s eyes burned as she stood on the porch staring at the crest of the distant hill, her heart pounding. Waiting.

And then it was there. Two hundred foot flames shooting into the sky over the summit followed by a roar like a fast approaching freight train.

“Rob, it’s time,” she yelled.

Rob appeared with a half-eaten sandwich in his hands. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll start hosing down the house. Go. The guys are expecting you.”

“Love ya,” he whispered before racing off to do battle with the advancing wildfire.

***

I wrote this in response to Charli Mills’ August 3, 2017 Flash Fiction Challenge. In 99 words (no more, no less) use sound to create a story. And as always, she suggests we go where the prompt leads us.

I live in the province of British Columbia (B.C.) in Canada and it is burning. A blanket of thick smoke, like murky fog, has spread beyond our borders to our neighbouring province of Alberta and our American neighbour Washington State. The smoke from the interior has also spread to my community, here on the island. It is fire season. I’m sure this province is not the only one experiencing wildfires. But for now, officials have said this is B.C.’s worst fire season in almost six decades with 884 fires and about 588,000 hectares destroyed to date.

My short story this week is a small tribute to the thousands of men and women both locally and from around the world who have generously donated time, effort and funds to fight the fires, protect lives and homes, shelter the evacuees and help them rebuild in the morrow.

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