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Sue Spitulnik

Writing, Sewing, Travel, and Thoughts

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Some “Things” Can’t Be Replaced

“They lost everything in a fire.”

“But they’re all right, right?”

“Depends on how you look at it.”

This could be a conversation between two people discussing any victim of the recent fire that destroyed Paradise, CA, in a quick, intensely hot swoosh. My high school English teacher, her husband and their daughter and son-in-law are some of the victims. Yes, they escaped physically unharmed, but what about emotionally. Imagine the fear and feelings of helplessness they experienced at the time and now they are living in temporary digs wondering how long it will take to rebuild or even if they can. And what about their things, all gone. Things can be replaced, or can they. Continue reading “Some “Things” Can’t Be Replaced” →

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Is There Beer in Heaven?

       What is your impression of heaven? Do you believe heaven has streets paved of gold; that there will be tranquility for all and maybe a few angels still in need of their wings as depicted in books and movies.

      I remember when I was young my parents discussing their different desires if heaven were indeed a place they would find “heavenly.” My father wanted unlimited fishing holes, well inhabited hunting grounds and an ongoing poker game. My mother wanted all her children with her, but no meals to prepare or laundry to do, and she pictured a forest nearby where they could play and learn together. She also wanted an unlimited source of craft supplies so she could continue to be creative and busy. Continue reading “Is There Beer in Heaven?” →

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It’s the Dogs Fault – flash fiction

“Damn it! I knew your dog didn’t like my moving in. My clothes from vacation are now scraps on the laundry room floor.”

“I warned you to keep that door closed.”

 “Well I forgot.”

He handed her the bills from his wallet. “Go shopping. I don’t want to lose you or the dog.”

She gave half the money back then kissed him. “Partly my fault.”

He stuffed the pieces into a garbage bag.

At Christmas he gave her a quilt his mother had made from the scraps. Its origin was told to family members with much adoration and laughter.

 

In response to Charli Mills November 15, 2018, prompt from Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that uses scraps. It can be scraps of dried flowers, paper, metal, fabric, food — any kind of scraps you can think of. Then write a story about those scraps and why they matter or what they make. Go where the prompt leads you.

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Scraps of Ideas

A writing class after retirement seemed like a good idea, but the first assignment, write a short story about anything, left me paralyzed. I went to my husband for help and he reminded me of the scraps of paper in my bedside table that I had written bits of dreams down on. We read them aloud and found a few that I could combine into one story. I had my outline. My first assignment garnered an A and whenever I needed another subject I went back to my scraps for inspiration. They turned out to be unexpected treasure trove.

In response to Charli Mills November 15, 2018, prompt from Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that uses scraps. It can be scraps of dried flowers, paper, metal, fabric, food — any kind of scraps you can think of. Then write a story about those scraps and why they matter or what they make. Go where the prompt leads you.

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Getting Rid of Dillon – 297 word flash

My caller ID said Sally. “Howdy. What’s up?”

“Are you busy later? I need you to do me a huge favor.”

“I’m not and what can I do?”

“That stuffed shirt mother likes is taking me to the park after church to prove he can commune with nature. I want you to take Duke and Duchess there, let them play in the water and when they hear my voice they’ll come running and shake cool water and maybe a little mud all over us.”

“He’s good looking and has money; why not give him a chance?”

“I have. He only talks about his education, his job, and his money. Boring! And, he doesn’t like animals. I can’t tolerate him.”

“Got it. What time?”

“11:30 and if this works I’ll even pay for the dogs next grooming.”

“Now there’s a deal.”

                                                           * 

As Sally got ready for church she purposely picked an outfit she thought Dillon wouldn’t care for, slipped into scruffy flats and added a gaudy necklace then let her barely curly hair hang instead of spending time making it straight and smooth. The look on Dillon’s face when he saw her told her she had achieved her goal. He was wearing a charcoal gray Armani suit and alligator shoes. During the sermon he didn’t sit so his hip touched hers. What a relief!

Later at the park Sally acted as silly as she dared and sure enough when the dogs heard her laugh they came running, stopped abruptly by her legs and shook. Dillon stood horrified, looking down at his soiled clothes. Sally said, “What can I say. I told you I was a dog magnet.” She patted the dogs and gave a thumbs up sign to their owner.

Dillon took her home for the last time.

In response to the prompt “cool water” from Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch Literary

 

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Becoming a Pet – 297 word flash

I’m a washed up show dog; a Papillon by breed and until recently I was a male, now I’m an it. They said taking away my manhood will make me a better house pet. I’m not yet sure what that is. I have lived in crates and have been hauled from one place to another to be made a spectacle of in front of a lot of people. I’ve been washed and combed so many times I lost count and now my owner says I need a forever home because even though the judges liked me I never won a big show. My owner has put me in the visiting room in our kennel barn a few times with strangers but they left and I stayed. I heard my owner say the chemistry wasn’t right. Today the stranger was different. He’s a tall skinny man and he picked me up the right way, supporting my legs against his chest. I licked his chin hello. He tasted a little funny but when I heard the pfsst of a can being opened on the long drive home I found out why. The liquid had a strong bitter smell instead of a sweet syrupy one. After a few of those he got silly. I was glad we were in the back seat. When we arrived at the place he called my new home there were two other Papillons for me to play with. They were allowed to bark so I did too. It had rained so we ran through the puddles and didn’t get scolded. I guess this is what being a pet is all about. I ran over to the man, stood up against his leg and barked my thanks for bringing me home and turning me into pet.

Written in response to Charli Mills prompt – long ride home

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