I didn’t have time to write a story in time to be included in the collection, but I wanted to write one anyway. I’ve stayed with Lucy and Amy and their little red convertible as they play with their toys. I hope you enjoy it.
The Squeaky Wheel
“Shh! What’s that noise,” said Lucy.
Amy stopped the car. Everyone was quiet.
“I don’t hear anything,” said Amy.
The others agreed. Nothing.
They continued on their way.
“There it is again,” said Lucy.
Amy didn’t stop the car, but they all listened.
“I hear it,” said Monkey. “Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.”
“Eek!” screamed Ellie. “There’s a mouse in the car!”
“No, silly,” said Bunny. “It’s a squeaky wheel.”
“Just needs some grease,” said Amy. “Everybody out!”
They all piled out. Amy hoisted the little red convertible for Lucy to grease the wheel, then they were on their way again.
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your comments. Please share your thoughts.
Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Wheels Keep on Turning, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
My first thoughts went to the Rawhide theme song with its ‘Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’’ refrain.
Of course, they’re not wheels that are rollin’, so that song wouldn’t do. But how wonderful to see these actors, who looked so old when I was a child, look not much more than children to me now.
My next thought was of Proud Mary and her big wheel that kept turning.
But that wouldn’t do either.
I wanted to return to my girls Amy and Lucy and their little red convertible from previous stories but couldn’t decide how. You could say the wheels were turning but I wasn’t getting anywhere. Fortunately, I thought of a third song about wheels.
That was more my style and this is my story. I hope you enjoy it.
The Wheels of the Limo
“The wheels of the bus go —. No, wait. The wheels of the limo go round and round, round and round —”
“Why’d ya stop?”
“I didn’t stop. We’re stuck.”
“But the wheels are turning.”
“Must be something underneath. Okay. Everybody out.”
Teddy, Ollie, Ellie, Monkey and Bunny piled out. They watched as Amy hoisted the little red convertible for Lucy to check underneath.
“There’s a rock,” said Lucy. She reached under, withdrew the culprit, and hurled it into the shrubs.
“All aboard!” she called.
The passengers settled back in, and everyone sang, “The wheels of the limo …”
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.
Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Bones, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
A perfect summer’s day: azure sky with not a hint of cloud, a whispering breeze to kiss away humidity, children’s laughter sparkling like glitter; it was all going swimmingly, until …
Kevin kicked furiously, and …
the tube crashed. Tina tipped heels over head, chipping Chelsea’s chin, as she smacked into the water.
Chelsea fell against Liam, who yelled, “Get off me!” as they splashed down.
The three resurfaced together, and grabbed the tube, catapulting Kevin overhead, arms and legs flailing, into the water.
“Wow!” “That’s fun!” “Do it to me!” “I’m first!”
It was all going swimmingly …
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.
Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt the red convertible, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
When I was a child, my uncle, who was probably in his early thirties and single at the time, had a red convertible. His name was Royal (Royal Albert, no less) and I thought he looked like Elvis Presley. He had a great sense of humour, and when he laughed, he did so with his whole body. Whenever he came to visit, we kids would beg him for a ride. He always complied. We felt like royalty as he whizzed us around the block, the wind in our hair, smiling as wide as the Pacific. It was Royal fun!
Charli did say to go where the prompt leads, and how could I write a post about a red convertible without paying respects to my uncle and the only times I got to ride in a red convertible, or any convertible for that matter. Sadly, we lost Royal twenty years ago to melanoma, a terrible disease that takes too many lives here in Queensland.
From memoir to fiction.
The Little Red Convertible V1
Teddy plumped into the driver’s seat. Ollie squished beside.
“Where’re we going, Teddy?”
“Somewhere far away, where the flowers bloom and the birds sing and the sky’s the prettiest blue.”
“How long will it take to get there?”
“Close your eyes and we’ll be there before you know it,” said Teddy.
The little red convertible zoomed past dancing horses and gilded carriages.
“Do you see it?” asked Teddy.
“It’s beautiful!” whispered Ollie, not wanting to break the magic.
When the little red convertible stopped, Ollie asked, “Can we go again?”
“Anytime,” said Teddy. “Just close your eyes and imagine.”
When I was writing that one, I was thinking of a little red car on a carousel. However, I couldn’t find an image to match. I quite liked the image of the two children and the pedal car, so I thought I’d have another go. For this one, I was thinking of playing imaginatively in the backyard or playground. I don’t think either are really what I could call finished, though each is 99 words, as is Royal’s Red Convertible, but I’ve run out of time. Let me know which you prefer.
The Little Red Convertible V2
“Where to today?” asked Amy.
“Over the mountains, across the river, and through the far-away forest,” said Lucy.
“Be home in time for dinner,” said Mother.
“We will!”
The little red convertible chugged to the peak of the highest mountain where the children danced in clouds. It rolled through misty valleys and onto the plain where the children played hide-and-seek in patchwork fields. It trundled across the wooden bridge over the river that led to the forest where they fluttered with fairies and pranced with unicorns.
Rumbling bellies told them to head for home.
“Just in time,” said Mother.
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.
Last week, the prompt was Danger Zone. My story saw a couple of playful children ‘trapped by quicksand’. I thought it appropriate to free them this week. My story begins where the last one finished. I hope you enjoy it.
We’re Free!
Help! Save us!
What’s wrong?
Can’t you see? We’re sinking. It’s quicksand! Help!
I’ll save you! I’ll pull you out!
Quick!
Okay. Stay right there! I’ll get a rope.
Jane, Jane. Quick, Give me your rope. The boys are sinking in quicksand. We have to get them out — before it’s too late.
I’ll come too.
Where are you going?
We have to save the boys! They’re sinking! It’s quicksand!
Quicksand? I’ll help too.
Quick! Grab the rope! Now, everyone, on the count of three, one, two, three, pu-ull! Pu-ull! Pu-ull!
Made it! You saved us! We’re free! Thank you.
Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.
Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Danger Zone, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
Norah Colvin 