To All Who Read My Blog by P.S. Joshi (Suzanne)

 

 

Photo Copyright: Fatima Fakier Deria

 

 

Today I’ve written a type of farewell letter, at least for now. To read this and the other stories on Rochelle’s blog just follow the link below and the directions given after that. The above photo is from Fatima Fakier Deria. Thanks Fatima.

To All Who Read My Blog by P.S. Joshi (Suzanne)

1 November 2019

 

Hello Everyone:

I’ve really enjoyed blogging, especially writing the little flash fiction stories. Now I have a problem. Last Monday, on the 21st of October, 2019, the doctor came to my flat, took a look at my right leg and told me she wanted me in the hospital for tests and to stay for treatment. I was admitted the next day, Tuesday the 22nd I went and ended up spending seven days being pumped full of antibiotics. My right foot was swollen and there was an area of red running halfway up my leg. When the report came back I understood the seriousness of the problem when the word “septic” was used. In other words, I could have lost my leg.

I’m now home, but directions were given for me to rest and sleep with my feet above my heart. I can spend very little time sitting at the computer or I was told the swelling could come back and the same problem. No way do I want to repeat that hospital stay and the meds. I was just fortunate I made it in time and they could heal me. I’d advise anyone with a problem like mine, not to wait but to get medical advice as soon as possible.

I’m also posting this on Rochelle’s blog and I want all there to know how much I enjoyed writing the stories and posting them there. All the best to Rochelle and all the writers.   Suzanne Joshi

 

Left Behind

Photo Copyright: C.E. Ayr

Here we are again and this week we’re gathered near a desk in a living room. We’ve come together to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneer’s group. Our hostess for the gathering is the talented and gracious author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge for each of us this week and every week is to write a story with no more than 100 words, not counting the title. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and be inspired by the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by C.E. Ayr. Thanks, C.E. To read the other stories by group members, just click on the link below, then on the smiling frog. Next, follow the given directions.

13 September 2019

Genre: Human Interest Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

Left Behind by P.S. Joshi

My mother left us. She’d always been there to help, and I guess we thought she always would be. A sudden massive heart attack during a nap took her.

There were no hospital or nursing home bills left behind. She never wanted to cause trouble. I wonder if she prayed to go that way. It was something she’d do.

A heartbreaking memory was left behind. I cried when I found it.

On the desk was an open mystery book, with her glasses resting on top. I took a picture, made copies for other family members, and framed mine.

Bye, Mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE SNOW GLOBE

 

Photo Copyright: Al Forbes

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year 2018!

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction-December 17th, 2017. Each week the host, Al Forbes provides a picture prompt taken by himself or sent in by one of the other participants in the group of writers. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not including the title and inspired by the prompt. This week’s prompt was taken by Al. Thanks, Al.

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

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/12/17/sunday-photo-fiction-december-17th-2017/

Genre: Crime Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

THE SNOW GLOBE by P.S. Joshi

It sat there on the desk, a harmless snow globe. Or was it? A friend had given it to him at school that afternoon.

“Hey, dude. Some man said he saw you and to give you this. He said to remove the plastic base.”

Jack Holder couldn’t remember anything before two months ago. When he woke up in the hospital he was told he’d  been on a skiing trip with friends and was the lone survivor of an avalanche. A tall blond man said he was his father, had paid the bill, and taken him home.

The guy said he was Mark Holder, they had just moved, and no one would know him at his new school. His mother was supposed to have died in a fire that burned their home three years before.

Jack took the globe home, unscrewed the bottom, and found a telephone number.

When he called a female voice said, “Drake, this is your mother. As soon as possible, go to the police station on Plymouth Street. I’ll be waiting there with proof. You were abducted by someone twelve years ago and I hired a private detective. I’ve reported it to the police.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A DIFFICULT CHRISTMAS

 

Photo Copyright: Al Forbes

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–December 4th, 2016. Each week the host, Al Forbes. provides a picture prompt. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not counting the title and inspired by the prompt.

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

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2016/12/04/sunday-photo-fiction-december-4th-2016/

Genre: Human Interest Fiction

Word Count: 199 Words

A DIFFICULT CHRISTMAS by P.S. Joshi

Marilyn stepped out onto the porch to a wonderland of sparkling trees, lawns, and rooftops. Frost was everywhere. It looked like a Christmas card.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been standing  there until numbness began setting in. Stepping back inside, she felt the warmth.

The furnace could heat her on the outside, but there was a kind of numbness it wouldn’t chase off, that of her dad’s death. It had been so sudden.

The hospital let him come home for the holidays. He lay down for a nap after lunch and never woke up. It was so unexpected, such a shock.

She told herself the numbness I feel now will soon leave to be replaced by pain. Her children were young and she had to hide the pain for their sake. She wanted every Christmas to be happy.

Her mother was another matter. She’d be living with them now and had Alzheimer’s. Marilyn had to take one day at a time.

There was still the Christmas shopping and wrapping and the tree to dig out from storage and trim. Her husband wasn’t one to celebrate holidays. It would all be up to her now. Somehow, gradually she’d have to get through it.

AN IGNORED WARNING?

 

Photo Copyright: C.E. Ayr

Here we are this week in a garden near a purple door. We’ve gathered in this lovely place to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneers group. Our hostess for the gathering is the talented and gracious author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge for each of us this week and every week is to write a story with no more than 100 words, not including the title. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by C.E. Ayr. Thanks, C.E.

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

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

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2016/11/23/25-november-2016/

Genre: Fantasy Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

AN IGNORED WARNING? by P.S. Joshi

John dreamed every night about a purple door. It was always the same. He’d touch the door and wake up.

He told his wife about it but she just told him not to pay attention.

One night he was finally able to open the door.

On the other side was a marvelous vista of an exquisite green meadow full of flowers and a magnificent castle in the distance.

John’s wife woke to find him lifeless, stiff, and cold beside her.

The doctor at the hospital spoke with her.

“The autopsy shows it was a heart attack. Was there any warning?”

 

THE CONCERT

 

Photo Copyright by Bjorn Rudberg

Here we are for another week. Today we’re touring an old mansion reported to be haunted. We’re seated in the music room. We’re gathered here to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneers group. Our hostess for the gathering is the talented and gracious author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge for each of us this week and every week is to write a story with no more than 100 words, not including the title. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by Bjorn Rudberg. Thanks, Bjorn.

To read the other stories by group members, 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:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2016/11/16/18-november-2016/

Genre: Speculative Humor Fiction

Word Count: 98 Words

THE CONCERT by P.S. Joshi

The old Bartlett mansion was reported to be haunted. Jed Bartlett, the inherited owner, had never gone there to actually find out.

One day he convinced his wife to accompany him. They were determined to spend the night.

About midnight they heard a sound from the music room. Entering, they found a misty presence playing a cello. They sat to listen.

Two weeks later, the first concert was scheduled. The posters read:  Cello concert by spirit of Julia Bartlet, 1840-1920–To be held at Bartlet mansion–Saturday, 12 midnight–Proceeds going to Planktown Hospital where Miss Bartlet died.

ENDLESS WAR

 

Photo Copyright: Al Forbes

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–October 2nd, 2016. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides a picture prompt. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not including the title and inspired by the prompt.

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

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2016/10/02/sunday-photo-fiction-october-2nd-2016/

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

ENDLESS WAR by P.S. Joshi

The hospital corridors were full of the wounded. The worst of them were left to die. There was no other choice. There was not enough medicine and other medical supplies for everyone.

The planes continued to bomb the neighborhoods and the hospitals were not spared. It was a malicious, hellish war. Women and children weren’t spared. No one was safe. There was no longer any place to hide. The people were being bombed into submission. The country was being demolished one city at a time.

It seemed there was more than one enemy but they now looked all the same. Other countries bombed from the air or supplied weapons but sent no fighting troops, just advisors.

This had long ago been called the land of the free and the home of the brave. People made wrong choices. They wasted their votes by not voting at all.

“What’s the use,” they said. “We’re not interested in either person running. We’re showing our disgust  by not voting.”

Some voted for candidates who couldn’t win. This also wasted their vote.

Because of this candidates were voted in who said they could do everything by themselves. This is what a dictator says.

HERMIONIE’S HOPPING HEDGE

 

Photo Copyright: Barbara W. Beacham

This is my contribution for this week to Momday’s Finish the Story, hosted by Barbara W. Beacham. Every Monday, Barbara supplies a new picture prompt along with the first sentence for the story. The original story to be written should have only 100 to 150 additional words. I’ve bolded the first sentence given with the picture prompt.

This week, the first sentence was contributed by one of the writers, Alistair Phillips. A big thanks to both Barbara and Ali this week.

Be sure to click on the little blue frog in the blue box, after clicking on the link, to read the other stories. The link for all other stories this week is as follows:

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/2015/07/06/mondays-finish-the-story-july-6th-2015/

Genre: Humor Fiction

Word Count: 3+14+148=165 Words

HERMIONIE’S HOPPING HEDGE by P.S. Joshi

The barista shook his head. “That hedge couldn’t have moved closer overnight. Could it?”

Hermionie Pipdittle was the local sorceress-in-residence. She wasn’t a malicious spell-caster, in fact, quite spirited and jolly.

Now aging, she worried her spells might be weakening, so sought something to practice on.

People wouldn’t do. Dixie Pringle had been furious when she’d turned orange that time. All she was meant to turn was a delicate pink, hardly noticable on a sunny day.

Then there was Harold Knickerbocker, a sound sleeper, whose wife called the hospital to have him declared dead when he turned gray one afternoon.

Oh, and there was also the unfortunate case of Latitia Markbottom who grew those elm branches from her head.

The local inn had an artistically-cut, though boring, hedge designed to attract tourists. It needed something to liven it up.

Hermionie waved her wand. “Jumpytitis,” she shouted.

The hedge hopped a bit, nothing spectacular. It hopped again, and again, and again. “Perfect.”

MEMORIES”

 

This is my contribution to Sunday Photo Fiction for January 18, 2015. Every Sunday a new picture prompt is given by Alastair Forbes, the host. The weekly challenge is to write an original story with no more than 200 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. Be sure to click on the little blue frog in the blue box to read all the other stories.

The link for all the stories is as follows:

http://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2015/01/18/sunday-photo-fiction-january-18th-2015/

Genre:  Realistic Fiction

Word Count:  197 Words

MEMORIES By P.S. Joshi

Mom was holding a post card of the First Savings Bank. “Yes, it was in front of that very building twenty years ago that I first met your father.” She then sighed.

She was off on one of her memory trips again, and I was bored. She must have told that story about ten times–every month.

“Someday, Bradley,” Mom looked at me with misty eyes, “you’ll meet the one who’s meant to be yours.”

Dad was sitting, head thrown back, snoring. He was not a romantic. Not even a little. Maybe I was like him. I would never subject my kids to that garbage.

Mom was also fond of describing my birth. “You were a beautiful baby,” she said. It seemed she could see me there in front of her, all plump, kicking my little feet.

“The other woman in the hospital room with me had a baby that only weighed five pounds. You weighed eight.”

That talk took place twenty years ago. Now here I am with my daughter, holding up a picture of the local stadium.

“You know, Mary, this is the place where I met your mother fifteen years ago.” My daughter looked bored.

PROTECTOR

 

This is my contritution to Sunday Photo Fiction for January 4, 2015. Every Sunday a new photo prompt is given. The weekly challenge is to write an original story with no more than 200 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week.

The link for all other stories is as follows. Be sure to click on the little blue frog in the blue box to read all the other stories:

http://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2015/01/04/sunday-photo-fiction-january-4th-2015/

Genre:  Depends on what you believe. As for me,

who wants to be alone?

Word Count:  200 Words

PROTECTOR By P.S. Joshi

Larry was four. He had been sent by The Creator as many believe all are. As we grow older, we tend to forget the place we came from as is natural.

Larry told his mother, “Mommy, I have the nicest friend. He said he’ll protect me.”

His mother thought, “Isn’t that nice. I’m glad he feels secure and happy.” She also noticed him talking to this “imaginary friend.” She’d heard this was not uncommon with small children, so gave it little thought.

There is a belief among many people that there are guardian angels, one assigned to each child, and we’re never truly alone; one day when we die, we’ll meet that angel.

One day Larry came down with a high fever and went into a coma. He was taken to the hospital and treatment began. His parents took turns at his bedside. The doctor was unsure whether he’d pull through. His parents began a prayer vigil. This went on for several weeks. His temperature came down somewhat and finally broke.

The first thing Larry told his parents was, “My friend was there and said it wasn’t time for me to leave you yet.”

What do you believe?