Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word and picture prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. Today’s word prompt is foolish. My snippet is from a cozy mystery set in fictional Glisten, Georgia. When you finish reading, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
A good deal of the morning passed in my digging through the volumes of photo albums my godfather had brought with him and lined up on an attic shelf. I couldn’t believe he had kept these in his house in Mexico all these years. There were pictures of people I recognized and many that I did not.
I confess I spent extra time with those encompassing my own childhood. I couldn’t help it. There was my mother looking so young and full of life, although the vertical lines between her brows were already evident. I always said they had appeared the night she left my father. Numerous pictures showed her, Jack, and me up at the mines, panning. Those had been fun trips. There I was with a foolish, tooth-gap smile, grubby hands holding the huge nugget that had magically made its way into my screen pan.
I almost got lost in the pictures, forgetting what I was looking for, because I didn’t actually know what that was. But I’ll know it when I see it! I tried to feel convinced.
Some pictures were not in albums but were stuffed in cigar and shoe boxes. One boxful depicted Jack in Australia, where he had learned to wrestle crocs. Another set showed him and another man in a rock-infested mountainous region. With them were Asians. Tour guides maybe? There seemed to be a lot of flying insects. I looked closer. Were those bees? On the back of one someone had scribbled something in a foreign language, with a horizontal line above the script. With my phone camera, I snapped shots of both sides and hurried through the last of the pictures. By now I was tired, depleted, and famished.
A trip to the kitchen resulted in a BLT on white buttered toast, several pecan cookies, and a fresh cup of coffee. Since the wind had a chilling bite, I didn’t take my lunch outside but, instead, ate by the sitting room window and watched a squirrel gathering nuts.
Back in Jack’s study, a vigorous online search followed, with many results but few pertinent ones. I rested my head in my hands. Something heavy clunked onto the floor. I jumped up and inspected the book that had fallen off the shelf. “Cliffs of Gold” was the title. It was a melodrama from the eighteen hundreds. What the heck? A voice intoned, “Go to the library.”
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word foolish. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories
All rights reserved, copyright @ 2023 Flossie Benton Rogers
Oooh! Doubt that book fell on its own, and the voice? Can’t wait to see what’s in the library.
I hope the voice’s instructions are helpful. Peri does seem to need help here with finding she knows not what.
Okay, okay, so who was that who dumped the book and gave her instructions? You’re the queen of the cliffhanger!! I need to know what’s going on. I love this story. Great use of the word prompt, too.
I’m glad you like the story, Jean. Thank you!
Oh, you big tease! You cannot leave us here with that!!
Oh wait, there’s a word limit. Yes you can LOL
Loved this scene! But now I want to rush to the library with her.
Haha, yes, we must stop somewhere. Thanks, Trisha!
Oooh, I am intrigued. I am curious why something wants her to read that book. Great job!
Thanks, Tricia!