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Mothers and Daughters #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a loving relationship with an adult child. What happens when a significant child in one’s life becomes an adult? Think beyond a son or daughter — a niece or nephew, a former student, a grandchild. How did the relationship shift? What is the importance of the new dynamic? Go where the prompt leads!

I didn’t think beyond a son or daughter, as Charli suggested. I stayed with the daughter. However, I want to assure you that the daughter in my story isn’t my daughter, and it definitely isn’t/wasn’t me. It’s really just a cliqued daughter who is probably not really like any daughter you know.

Mother and Daughter

One

You are my everything, my world, my universe.

Four

I only want to be with you. No one else will ever do.

Eight

You’re the best in the whole world.

Thirteen

You’re mean. Everyone else can.

Fifteen

I hate you.

Eighteen

I’m an adult. You can’t tell me what to do.

Twenty-one

It’s my life. I’ll do what I want.

Twenty-five

How can I get Bubs to stop crying?

Twenty-nine

Will you babysit?

Thirty-three

Can you help with sport?

Thirty-eight

Please talk to her. She won’t listen to me.

Forty

I wasn’t this bad, was I?

Sorry, Mum.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Message in a Feather, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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July 17, 2023
Message from a Feather #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story as a message from a feather. Think about how the message is shared and from whom to whom. What kind of feather? How can you expand where feathers come from like boas and down ski jackets? Whatever tickles your muse this week. Go where the prompt leads!

A Black Feather

There was nothing unusual about the morning as Sarah scoured the beach for treasures. Nothing unusual until …

The feather. Iridescent black, shimmering blue and purple, it sparkled in the sunshine. It stood upright. Like a flag. Like it had been placed there. On purpose. But Sarah and her aunt were alone on the island. Not another soul for over five years. No other footprints. Sarah frowned. And what was the feather from? They’d only ever seen white birds. Was it a sign?

“Aunt Sophie!” she called as she ran. Then, from nowhere, an enormous black bird swooped …

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Complaint Received, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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July 10, 2023
Complaint Received
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story as a response to “we’ve received your complaint.” Who has received the complaint and why? How was the complaint delivered — with grace, humor, vitriol? Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response. I hope you enjoy it.

Complaint Received

“I want to lodge a complaint.”

“You can’t lodge a complaint here.”

“But the sign says, ‘Complaint Department’.”

“It used to be here, but now it’s not.”

“Where is it then?”

“Fourth floor.”

…

“The elevator’s out of order.”

“I already told you. Fourth floor.”

“How do I get to the fourth floor if the elevator’s not working?’

“Stairs.”

“Where?”

…

“The stairs are blocked.”

“Fourth floor. Remember?”

“Aaargh!”

“What’s the problem here?”

“I want to lodge a complaint, but the elevator’s broken and the stairs are blocked.”

“We’re aware of the problem. Complaint received. Thank you.”

“But —”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Grains of Sand can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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July 3, 2023
Beaver Slap #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a beaver slap. It can be an actual tail slap warning on the water or an imitation. Is a beaver slap the name of something — a new type of burger, perfume, or a sci-fi gadget? Take ecological and poetic licenses. Go where the prompt leads!

We don’t have beavers in Australia and I’d neither heard, nor heard of, a beaver slap before. However, we do have:

A Very Funny Animal

It isn’t quite a beaver, though it has a beaver’s tail,

A freshwater-living mammal, much smaller than a whale.

It’s something like an otter with body dressed in fur.

Its bill and feet are duck-like but it has a poisonous spur.

It burrows into riverbanks to lay its eggs therein.

It swims around in waters while having not one fin.

If you come across it, I urge you not to scream.

It wouldn’t ever harm you. It’s just a monotreme.

Its name can be quite tricky, but you’ll learn it without fuss.

So try:

            Or –

                   Or – nith – or

                          Ornithorhynchus.

(Apologies to C.J. Dennis for this poem poorly modelled on his wonderful Triantiwontigongolope which you can read in full here.)

You might know this creature better as the platypus.

The poem, although it is 99 words, isn’t really my response to the prompt. It began more as an explanation of my response which follows.

When Europeans first arrived in Australia, they had never seen anything like the platypus, which is an egg-laying mammal, or monotreme. The first scientists who studied the platypus, thought it was a fake, made up of the body parts of several animals. I hope I’ve captured its uniqueness in both my poem and my story.

You may enjoy this video about the platypus. My story Impossible Creature follows it.

By the way, we have neither otters nor beavers in Australia.

Impossible Creature

The day was magic with the sunlight and laughter of summer holidays.

They were resting on the riverbank when a splash broke the spell. “What was that?”

“A fish? Must’ve been big.”

“It was a duck! I saw its beak before it dived.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s an otter. Ducks don’t have fur.”

“Can’t be an otter. Their tails aren’t flat. Gotta be a beaver.”

“Duh! There’s no beavers in Australia.”

The surface broke again.

“Look! Webbed feet. It is a duck. I told you.”

“But not with that spur.”

“A furry duck with spurs. Someone’s playing tricks. But who?”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Two Can Keep a Secret, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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June 5, 2023
The Old Lady and the Beast #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about “the old lady and the beast.” What does age have to say about the story? Who is the beast and why? Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response. I hope you enjoy it.

The Old Woman and the Beast

Beyond the village, where trees grow thick and tall, lives an old woman in a tiny cottage. Self-sufficient with her gardens, chickens, and one milking goat, she rarely ventures far.

By day, she whistles as she works. When darkness falls, she locks the doors, bolts the windows and draws the curtains. Then the beast arrives, landing heavy-footed on the roof. Soon the monstrous grunting, growling, screeching and hissing begin. She covers her ears and rocks, humming calming songs without effect. Eventually, the beast retreats. The night grows quiet and still, and she sleeps, awakening at daybreak, another night survived.

…

This story was inspired by a cute Australian marsupial, a brushtail possum who just happened to be outside my window making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I read Charli’s prompt. I didn’t have to go far for inspiration.

While you can listen to a little of the brushtail possum’s repertoire in this video, it is only a fraction of what I heard.

Although they are totally harmless to humans, the sound can be terrifying, even when you know what it is. It sounds like the creature from the black lagoon standing at the door wanting blood. The first night I heard one, maybe almost thirty years ago, it totally unnerved me. I went from window to window trying to find out what was making the sound that seemed to envelop our house. I had no idea what it was. The next day, a little sheepishly, I phoned the museum and informed them that I’d heard noises I could not explain. The fellow said, “Did it sound like this?” and mimicked it exactly, though not quite as loudly. When he told me what it was, I was greatly relieved. Although they are not big creatures, they make a hell of a noise on a tin roof.

You can find out a little more about this very cute Australian in this video.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Impossibly Blue, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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April 16, 2023
A Dog in the Desert #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a dog in the desert. Why is the dog there? Who else is involved? Is there a deeper metaphor you can make of the desert? Go where the prompt leads!

We are told to write what we know, and I am not a dog person. I’ve never owned a dog though both my children and their families now do. I’m currently trying to complete a story for this year’s Story Angels Anthology that has ‘Tales from the Bark Side’ as its theme. It took me ages to get a story started and I hope I can complete it to my own, and the judges’ satisfaction. Fingers crossed.

The last time Charli included a dog in the prompt, I didn’t submit. This time I’ve followed the prompt into the desert with Australia’s own native dog. I’ve gone for a type of information-packed free verse, not really a flash fiction, but there I went. I would’ve liked more time to work on it. Perhaps I still will. But this is it for now. I hope you enjoy it.

Desert Dog

Dingo

wild dog of this vast land

of forest, scrub and plain

no stranger to the desert

with golden fur and quiet white feet

a bushy tail and pointed ears

and long sharp teeth

Australia’s largest mammal carnivore

apex predator

been here 4,000 years or more

nocturnal hunter

with howls that rip the night asunder

call the pack in

or warn intruders away

marking territories with body scents

curious but shy

beautiful but dangerous

lean and mean

unpredictable

opportunistic hunter

hungry scavenger

do not coax it in

be ever wary

treat with caution

lest you become the dingo treat.

I think the Azaria Chamberlain story in 1980 made the world aware of the Australian dingo. It was a story that rocked the nation, not to mention its effect on the family. Although dingo attacks on humans are rare, they do occur, particularly if campers welcome them to their campsites and feed them, particularly if they are hungry and particularly if campers do not treat them with sufficient caution and respect. They may look like domestic dogs, but they are not domestic. They are wild. As recently as a week ago, a young girl was attacked by a dingo on K’gari (Fraser Island). However, many more people die by drowning and car accidents than by sharks, and even fewer by dingoes. Be cautious but not afraid.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Impossibly Blue, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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April 9, 2023
Shots Fired #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about shots fired. Where is this story taking place? Is there urgency or surprise? Who is there? What happens next? Go where the prompt leads!

My story is a BOTS (based on a true story). My cousin, who was about my age, was the commanding officer in the passing out parade, and my four-year-old brother was the curious child. My cousin went on to train as an army officer and achieved quite a high rank. I wish I could remember more about that. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago. I’m grateful to Charli for this prompt and an opportunity to honour him. He was a very special person and I adored him as a cousin and a friend.

Who Shot Him?

The cadets were in formation as they marched around the oval, looking every bit the soldier with guns and uniforms, and not the pimply partly-whiskered teenage boys they’d return to after graduation. Proud relatives had travelled far to view this passing out parade. Spectators and graduates sweltered under the unforgiving summer sun. Some women armed with fans and umbrellas were the envy of those less prepared. One small cousin pushed through the crowd for a better view. At that instant, a front row cadet fainted. The distressed spectator scampered back to safety. “Who shot him, Mum? Who shot him?”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Where Children Once Played, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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March 26, 2023
A Place Where Children Once Played #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a place where children once played. It can be a field, a playground, or any place that attracted children to play. But now it is empty. Abandoned. Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response. I hope you enjoy it.

Locked and Abandoned

Grow up.

Stop those childish games.

Remember your manners.

Cease with the stories.

Fairies aren’t real.

Santa’s for fools with more money than sense.

She was a dutiful daughter and diligent student. She submerged herself in lessons, wiped her mind of childhood nonsense and got on with the serious business of being grownup, though she was not yet nine years old.

She went on to be dux at school and won the university medal but had no friends to celebrate with.

Sometimes, in night’s solitude, she’d hear a jangle of keys and a tiny voice crying, ‘Let me out!’

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Gloria can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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March 19, 2023
Golden Onions #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a golden onion. Any golden onion. One planted or harvested. An onion chopped for a meal. How can you use an onion as a prop in a character’s hand? Go where the prompt leads!

In her post, Charli used the analogy of a golden onion for writers as peeling back the layers to find the essence of who we really are as writers, what we write and who reads our work.

I write under a few different hats and I’m not sure any fits quite as well as I’d like. I’m a freelance educational writer, a blogger, an aspiring children’s author and a would-be dreamer of other things too. Too many possibilities. Not enough time.

I generally, but not always, use Charli’s prompts to write about children or to explore situations that may spark an idea for a story for children. I’m always pleased that Charli says, as she reiterated in the current post, that the ‘Carrot Ranch is a place to play, practice, and grow (or peel) your onion’. While Carrot Ranch readers may not be children, they once were (or maybe still are at heart, like me) and some are teachers and parents. I hope my stories speak the child that was or about a child that is.

Thank you for your patience in reading my stories. Here is my response to this week’s prompt ‘Golden Onions’.

No Trust

Jamie was an explorer. He had to find out for himself. ‘No’ was an answer he couldn’t trust. Did it mean, ‘You really shouldn’t” or ‘Of course, go ahead’?

Sometimes he discovered forbidden delights. Like the tiny brown squares Mum hid, saying, ‘No, Jamie. You won’t like it.’ He found he really did. A lot!

Sometimes he discovered the hard way. Like when Dad was cooking and said, ‘Don’t touch. It’s hot.” He found that hot hurts.

When Mum peeled a golden shell off a white ball, she said, ‘No. You won’t like it.’ Should he trust her?

No!

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt A Smear of Jam, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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March 5, 2023
Literary Artist #99WordStories
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about what it means to be a literary artist. You can pull from your own experience, re-imagine the idea, or embody something else in a character. Be playful, go deep, and let your story flow. Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response. I hope you enjoy it.

If only …

In her mind she was a literary artist, painting exquisite word pictures and enthralling plots, her titles on everyone’s lips. When it didn’t eventuate, she blamed busyness and writer’s block. She could have, if only.

He dreamed of being a musical artist, composing melodies to make hearts sing, first choice of orchestras everywhere. When it didn’t emerge, he cited family responsibilities. He could have, if only.

They pictured themself as a visual artist, creating magnificent sculptures commissioned by international celebrities. When it didn’t evolve, they howled discrimination and poor upbringing. They could have, if only.

Might have, if only.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt A Smear of Jam, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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February 26, 2023