What a lovely batch of health-related stories we received for this week’s prompt. Inspiring, funny and hopeful, they’re just what the doctor ordered. I’ve been indisposed this week, so grateful to my co-editor Jonica Bradley for stepping in to cover for me.
Read, clap and share, why dontcha? It’s good for your health :)
Terry Barr has good news, but it’s not for everyone
Giulietta Passarelli reminds us that it’s OK to be vulnerable
Marla Bishop copes with changing health
Nicole Brown sits in the sun
Fred Ermlich regrets the Neolithic age
Karen Traub has a Goddess prayer
As the old adage goes, you never know what you’ve got till it’s gone. No truer words for me this last month, when for the first time in my life, I have had to face some serious health problems. Suddenly, I can’t see properly and have to take daily medication.
Never one to let changes get me down, I’m doing all that I can to continue to live fully and happily despite my challenges. I trust the process of life. I know that all is well and I will be ok. …
Gasping for breath, Mark ducked into an alleyway and raced down onto the high street.
There was no one around.
Mark could almost feel the breath of the monster chasing behind him, hot on his heels.
Then, on his right, he saw a cafe with its light on, with a figure silhouetted against the glass door.
He lunged at the door, banging with his fist and shouting to be let in.
As the door opened, Mark fell through the opening, screaming: “Lock the door, hurry!”
Closing the door and clicking the lock shut, the zombie obeyed with a grimace.
I turn sixty in just over a week’s time. My dream was to celebrate on the Caribbean island of my mother’s birth, along with my eldest daughter who turns thirty-five on the same day. Alas, COVID put paid to that fantasy, so instead, we will having a picnic in our favourite park.
Hey, it’s gonna be just as special as being on a beach in St Lucia. (It’s not where you are, it’s who you’re with.)
Anyways, it’s good I’m not planning a long haul trip because lately, I’ve been experiencing little breakdowns in the working of my body. …
It really is spring; There was so much hope to be found in the thrifty word submissions this week, I could feel the grass growing before my eyes. Plus, I’m excited that this week sees the 30th anniversary of our fifty-word inception.
Thank you to all contributors to our challenge.
Fred Ermlich finds hope only lives in Hope Springs
There’s a lot of hope along Route 66, T. Mark Mangum tells us
GB Rogut has turned spring into a poem
For Karen Traub, Hope is in the moss
Welcome to new thrifty word writer, Dave Logan, who’s sliding out of…
I recently watched the four-part miniseries about the 1992 child abuse allegations levelled against Woody Allen by his seven-year-old adopted daughter, Dylan Farrow. It reminded me how chilling I found those allegations at the time; so much so, I stopped watching Woody Allen films.
As the years went by, and Allen was neither charged nor convicted, I began to think: Maybe he didn’t do it.
Watching the recent documentary Allen v Farrow led me to rethink: Maybe he did do it, he just wasn’t charged because of who he is.
Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time a wealthy…
How did I survive, you ask me, in that tiny crawl space in my grandmother’s garret for seven years?
Hope, pure and simple. I was enslaved but my mind was free. I squeezed my body into that hole and stayed there, hidden from everyone save my grandmother, who fed me and cared for my human needs all those long years.
I survived because I could see and hear my children, growing and laughing and alive, safe from sale to the slaver who’d hold them hostage for my return. I survived because I knew one day, we would all be free.
Spring is my favourite season. So much so, I have a tulip tattooed just above my sacrum. Everywhere we look, there are signs of the earth reawakening. It feels like the planet coming back to life after months of cold and grey drabness. I love waking up to brighter mornings and birdsong, and the sight of brightly coloured flowers in gardens and parks.
I remember when I first heard the story of Persephone; how she was abducted by Hades to live in the underworld with him, causing her mother Demeter to so neglect the care of the earth that it…