I am going......@ Small Stories and Stuff

Imagine this - me, actually posting on Six Word Fridays on, well, Friday. Im glad to be off work today. I work three 12-hour shifts a week, so when I’m working, about all I do is sleep and work. Melissa’s prompt this week is the word “go.”

So, here I go...........six lines, each with six syllables.

I am going to France
to Aix en Provence where
Cézanne painted and turned
the art world on its ear.
I'm going there to write
the best words of my life.


© cj Schlottman

Cooling Off @ Small Stories and Stuff

It’s Sunday, so yesterday must have been Saturday Centus, the day our esteemed leader, Jenny Matlock of “... off on my tangent...” assigned us Centusians a prompt from which to construct a 100 (or less) word story. No photos are allowed and the posts must be PG. (This one is PG-13). This week, she threw us a crumb, as it were, and assigned us an innocuous prompt: “The curtain parted.” I just know there will be many different takes on this prompt, so here’s my contribution, so I can get to reading the others. You will find them and all the rules by clicking on my Saturday Centus button on my sidebar.


Cooling Off



Each on opposite sides of the bed, they jockeyed for the upper hand.

As usual, the argument started over nothing - he forgot to take out the trash. Then it morphed into that nonsensical place where all past sins are reviewed. She began chanting a litany of his recent misdeeds.

As for him, he held back nothing, ticking off her faults on his fingers.

She turned her back, undressed, started a cold shower, stepped in, sharp cold needles of water stinging her face.

The curtain parted, and with a sheepish grin, he asked, “Why don’t we cool off together?”


© cj Schlottman
03/20/2011

On The Wings of Love

03/17/2011

For today, Melissa has asked all of us who participate in Six Word Fridays to write something about hope, especially for the people of Japan, who are suffering so much loss and who may even be exposed to radiation that will make them sick in the future.
At times like this, hope seems unattainable, but as time passes, the pages on the calendar will drop away, and healing will begin. The irony that this quake and ensuing tsunami could happen to Japan, a nation once exposed to radiation by the bombing of their country, is remarkable.
For more information on Six Word Fridays, please click on the button on my sidebar.

Here is my contribution based on hope:


On The Wings of Hope


Hope is in not made of
things or even food and water
or preaching or praying out load.
It is not ours alone but
all of mankind owns it also.
It is deep in our souls
buried in our brains and hearts.
There is no thing called hopelessness.
We must finds hope’s source by
introspection and willingness to set aside
our safe and warm and comfortable
selfishness and reach out to others.
When we send hope to Japan
it becomes real to us and them.
It travels on wings of love
continues on to Haiti and Darfur
and North Korea, Libya and Egypt
in time making it’s way back
to us so we can send it out again.

© cjSchlottman 03/17/2011

The Grave Digger

This week’s prompt for Saturday Centus is: “he had never been accused of being intelligent..." For the uninitiated, Saturday Centus is a writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock who is the author of the awesome blog, ...off on my tangent. You can find all the rules and some pretty good little stories by clicking on the Saturday Centus button on my sidebar. And don’t forget to visit Jenny’s blog.

Here is my contribution for this week:

Leroy stood at the edge of the grave he had just dug and peered into it, wondering if there were a story associated with its soon-to-be resident.

A grave digger, he had never been accused of being intelligent, but his employers knew nothing of his avocation. For years, he had been making up stories about the people he helped bury, then publishing them on his blog. Lately, they had become quite popular among Jenny Matlock’s Saturday Centusians.

Taking his shovel, he peeled off his gloves and walked to his little cottage, then logged on to find the prompt for the week.

Jenny did not disappoint.


© cj Schlottman

More Than Money

This week’s prompt for Saturday Centus is: “everything depended upon this single card.....” For the uninitiated, Saturday Centus is a writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock who is the author of the awesome blog, ...off on my tangent. You can find all the rules and some pretty good little stories by clicking on the Saturday Centus button on my sidebar. And don’t forget to visit Jenny’s blog.

Here is my contribution for this week. The prompt is in italics.



At the bridge table, four players were concentrating on the game. My husband and I had bid a grand slam in notrump, and I was playing the hand.

When dummy went down, I took as much time as I needed before addressing the lead. I counted the sure winners and could only come up with twelve.

I looked in my hand again. There was small club I needed to throw off on something from dummy.

With $1,000 riding on this hand, everything depended upon this single card.......the rent, groceries and day care. I went down one.

That night's beating was the worst ever.


© cj Schlottman

Bombs Away

“I’d catch a granade for ya.....”

Mrs. Jenny’s Saturday Centus prompt for this week could go in so many directions. I have read a few of the entries and am intrigued. Drop in over at Saturday Centus to learn all about this meme - the rules and all that. There you will find the posts that were fueled by this prompt. And don’t forget to follow Jenny on her awesome blog, “..off on my tangent.”

For a variety of reasons, which I will not bore you with, I have not participated for the last two weeks, but here I am, back again!

This one was hard for me, but here goes.



Her son, Michael, was running through the house repeating the phrase, “I’d catch a granade for ya...” and making motions as though to throw something.

Jane stopped Michael as he sped through the kitchen. “Where did you hear those words?”

“Joey’s big brother has a video.”

“Do you know what a granade is?”

“’Course I do. Everybody knows it’s a little bomb that you throw at the enemy. You know, like in Iraq, where Daddy is. But if you throw it at a friend, he catches it and throws it back, like, you know, a game. Joey’s brother told us.”

“Come sit with me, Sweetheart. We need to talk.”


© cj Schlottman

Secrets Never to be Told

This is my contribution to Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus. You can learn all about it by clicking on her button on my sidebar.

Silently, she slipped into the attic, praying not to wake the others. The house was full of relatives come to bury Grandma. But none but she knew of the chest tucked away in the corner of the attic.

She lifted the stack of letters from the ancient chest and began to read by the beam of her flashlight. The paper was almost translucent, but she could read enough to know that the secrets they held should never be revealed.

Silently, she made her way back down the stairs, sneaked out the kitchen door and out to the trash bin, where she threw in the letters and tossed a match after them.


© cj Schlottman