…I’ve sneaked onto Aussie Authoress, Rachel Amphlett’s blog here…

A great interview with Seumas by Rachel Amphletts.

Seumas Gallacher

…many thanks to my pal, Rachel Amphlett for letting me cut and paste from the Guest Blog she carried with my moniker attached… the Lady’s well worth a follow on her page at www.rachelamphlett.com

View original post 813 more words



Daffodil by the curb--The Reclining Gentleman

Photo Copyright: The Reclining Gentleman

Here we all are another week. Today we’re sitting on a virtual lawn viewing a virtual bed of daffodils and crocuses. Our hostess for this gathering is the gracious and talented author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We’re the Friday Fictioneers group. Our challenge this week and every week is to write an original story with no more than 100 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was supplied by The Reclining Gentleman. Thanks, R.G.

To read the other stories by the group, just click on the link given below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link for this week’s stories is as follows:


Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

SPRING By P.S. Joshi

Ruth understood she might not live until spring. The doctors tried every procedure available to purge her cancer. She had to wait.

They explained if she survived until April there was hope of full remission.

Her husband and two grown children prepared. Now to her, it wasn’t a wait for the first day of April but for visible signs of spring. The watch was on for crocuses and daffodils, birds and butterflies, and rain showers.

Early one morning there they were in the prepared beds–the yellow daffodils and red crocuses. New hope surged through her. Many springs were ahead.




Written Act of Kindness Award

























Indie Author Services

Jo is offering some great services.

Jo Robinson

I’m making very good inroads catching up with my emails, but still not all clear there. I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your loving and kind wishes, and I will get to each and every one of you. I’m not quite at warp zoom speed yet, but I’ll get there. I have to get stuck into earning an income from what I do straight away (to avoid the whole camping out under a tree thing), so I’ve had my head down for a while sorting out my website. I’m launching my services now at really low prices to begin with to get a feel for costing, and I’ll adjust them upwards a little later, so grabbing them now even if you only want them for later would be a fabulous idea. I’ve taken down my pre-made book covers page here, and replaced it…

View original post 145 more words


I’ve written this piece for the blog series by Teagan Geneviene about the senses. You can read her piece and find links to or pieces by other writers in the comments at the following link.



A combination of smells drifts to my nose. Apartment buildings rise on both sides as I stroll.

There are additions now required for urban life–window bars and fire escapes.

When I stop at one point, the early morning chemical smell of gasoline is noticeable. It’s leaked from older cars commuters here still cling to and drive to work.

This neighborhood is now home to Indian families. There are still some Italian families, but not as many as in former years. The remaining apartments contain a variety of renters.

Out of the Indian windows drifts the sweet odor of incense from each  morning puja. From the Italian windows drifts a different scent. It’s oregano mixed with fresh tomatoes and green peppers.

I walk a little further and pick up the stronger odor of putrid waste water rising from the manhole of a backed-up sewer. The city workers will soon arrive.

A recent downpour brought the not-unpleasant odor of wet blacktop.

The morning sun beats down on the corner. There it’s the smell of hot blacktop, also not unpleasant. A city nose becomes accustomed to all these odors.



Written Act of Kindness Award