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Justin Deming's avatar

On the Run, fiction

The thorny briar patch pierced Manny’s skin like snake bites. He barreled toward the river and spotted tulips in bloom.

Spring had always been her favorite season.

Footsteps tore into the woods. “Freeze!”

The young fugitive took a deep breath and added it to his list of regrets.

Then he dove.

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Makes me want to know what happens after. And before!!

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Justin Deming's avatar

Thanks for reading, Scott! I’m with you. This one definitely feels more like a scene. Might have to play around and expand it!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Definitely works as a standalone micro just also makes you want more!

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Sharon Hudson's avatar

That moment of nostalgia brought him back to reality, but there was no turning back, now! Great nail-biter, Justin!

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Justin Deming's avatar

Thanks so much, Sharon! Happy you liked it.

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

So much mystery here, Justin. Excellent!

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Justin Deming's avatar

Thank you for reading, Sharron!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Cutting Class/Fiction

The coarse sophomore embodied the season of rising sap. Unwisely approached the farmer’s daughter saucily, snickered, “We’re up to the chapter on plant reproduction in biology class. You look to be in full bloom.”

Rachel shouldered the shears conspicuously. “Pay close attention when you get to the chapter on pruning.”

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Justin Deming's avatar

Haha! Rachel’s response is perfect! Love it.

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

Ha ha ha ha! Hilarious. Steady there, young man.

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Had to nip it in the bud😊

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Sue Cauhape's avatar

Now that's a pickup line that reaps exactly what you sowed ... contempt.

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

Sometimes manure is not fertilizer it’s just manure 😊

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Richbee's avatar

Just thin out. Have sharp shears. Open like an hour glass.

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

An hour glass is what got him in trouble in the first place

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

The Promise, fiction from 🌿LEAVES

I was only seven when my mother disappeared.

I remember the overwhelming sense of loss,

the feeling that somehow I had done something wrong,

that I was unlovable.

Now, as a single parent myself, I make this promise:

My own beautiful, blooming boy will always know

that he is cherished.

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Justin Deming's avatar

Beautiful, Sharron. The other Sharon took the words right out of my mouth: fifty words of perfection.

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

👍🏻 Thanks. A sort of tweaked take on BLOOM.

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Sharon Hudson's avatar

50 words of perfection.....so much love, Sharron!

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

That’s Powerful plant food

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Sue Cauhape's avatar

It's all any mother can hope.

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Kim Smyth's avatar

Salad Topper- Fiction

“I need something special,” Shelley thought to herself.

Later, at the Master chef tryouts, when asked for the appetizer, she displayed the salad she’d created using flowers in bloom from her own garden; tiger lilies.

“How did you know they were edible,” the judge asked.

“Family secret!” she exclaimed.

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Justin Deming's avatar

It must have been quite a pretty dish!

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Kim Smyth's avatar

I imagine it was, Justin! Thanks for the prompts, they keep me writing something other than just my blog.

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Sharon Hudson's avatar

Calla Lilies, fiction

Three white calla lilies bloomed from the dark shaded corner, beneath my kitchen window. They appeared like creamy smooth lanterns, illuminating a path from the shadow, into the thin morning light, I followed the pathway to the garden. And as the cool breeze swept softly across my face, I prayed.

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Justin Deming's avatar

So picturesque and serene, Sharon. Beautiful work!

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Sharon Hudson's avatar

Thank you, Justin, and thank you for the great prompt!

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

"Creamy smooth lanterns" , yes! Those lovely callas just pop up from heaven knows where. I don't think any one ever plants them, they just come when you need them most. Lovely, Sharon.

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Sharon Hudson's avatar

Thank you, Sharron! Yes, they do seem to “pop up”!! They’re all over the hillside now!!

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

👍🏻👏

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Richbee's avatar

Cherry Tomato (Fiction)

The yellow cherry tomato flower bud danced tippy-toes on stem end alone and twisted, withdrawn; attempts to follow the sun hidden behind clouds. Too little water, pirouettes, youth to bloom, expected to flourish; demi-plies'. Nipped in the bud. Yellow stigma-pistils remain silent, slighted, never pollinated by bees.

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Justin Deming's avatar

Lovely descriptions, Richard. Oh, the gardener’s plight!

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Richbee's avatar

Might call it suicide.

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

sigh. Gardening is a little more work than some of us realize...

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Scott MacLeod's avatar

This is zesty as a beefsteak variety

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Richbee's avatar

A salad delight

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Jill CampbellMason's avatar

In Bloom,(field, N.J.), Fiction

Once, just once, I rode in a Pullman car to my great-grandmother's home.

Overnight! By myself. At ten years old.

Excited? Absolutely.

Frightened? Hmmmm.

But it was the ants that nibbled and tormented after I'd eaten saltines that were my undoing as I wriggled and itched in Bloomfield, New Jersey.

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Jill CampbellMason's avatar

Thanks: 50 words is tight, but truthful!

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Justin Deming's avatar

Jill, this was such a fun and clever response! It’s quite the adventure, as well. That final line left me itching, ha! My apologies for the delay in getting to this one.

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Jill CampbellMason's avatar

Thanks for your excellent comment and response and, a bit sorry, that it left you itching (unfortunately) me too!

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