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Postcard Stories – The Last List

3 Words: believer, flavourful, lists
150 Word Limit

He had lists for everything. His entire day; his life, was bound by them. From lists detailing when each scheduled maintenance was due on their auto, to grocery lists. It drove Janice crazy.

Janice hated to complain about this seemingly harmless habit as the meals that were the result of the careful grocery lists he planned out, were quite flavourful. She also never had any issues with her car either. Jack always made sure of that. Her husband was a believer in staying on top of things. Was that really something to fault him for?

This time though, Jack had gone too far.

As Janice held his latest list in her hands, the one she had found in his pants pocket while doing HIS laundry, she read the two columns that topped the page.

Her Faults. Her strengths.

Under Jack’s list, Janice started her own.

To do:
File for divorce

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posted by Lawrence in Postcard Stories and have Comments (2)

Postcard Stories – Siv the Science Guy

3 Words: skitter, supplement, demon
150 Word Limit

Sivais attempted to supplement an xxx ingredient for a slightly cheaper xxy one for the potion he was conjuring up. What harm could it possibly do? They more or less contained the same elements.

The concoction was to transform him into a fear-provoking demon, with a plan to take over the earth world.

The Council was handing out grants for fresh business startups to help booster the Denhag economy, and Siv (as he was known by his friends and close colleagues), knew his proposal was foolproof. Obviously Council didn’t know Siv.

Sivais could sell a whosit at a whatsit convention but the reality was, that he didn’t know his whatchamacallits from his thingamabobs.

As Siv stepped out his cottage door, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. His stride had turned to a skitter, and he felt gargantuan bucked teeth pressing down on his bottom lip.

“Great. A fear-provoking rabbit.”

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posted by Lawrence in Postcard Stories,Sci-Fi and have Comments (2)

Postcard Stories – His Wife

Three Words: Funeral, Culpable, and Carnal
150 Words

It was her husband’s funeral.

I had always found her to be an attractive woman, but I had never looked at Diedre as anything more than a friend before.

Seeing her standing there by her dead husband’s side, I suddenly found myself trying to push aside these unexpected carnal thoughts.

She is Jake’s wife. Get a grip. He was your best friend.

Jake had somehow felt culpable for my divorce. The truth was, being around him and Diedre, helped me see what was missing from my marriage. What love could be.

Now here I was. Envisioning how wonderful it would be to hold his beautiful wife in my arms and comfort her.

She looked at me as I approached; teary eyed. Smiling, she took my hand in hers, enfolded her arms around me, and squeezed me with all the strength she had inside.

 I had loved her all this time.

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posted by Lawrence in Love,Postcard Stories,Romance and have Comments (4)

Postcard Stories – Dog on the GO

Word Count: 150 words or less
Three Words: forgiveness, muppet, interloper

Riding the GO today.
It’s been awhile.
Many days pass, without memory of events. Passing the hours like a Muppet on a wire.
An interloper, in my own skin.
These moments were my hearts forgiveness; My minds inspiration.

I notice them at the handoff.
Through the tunnel, I follow their path.
She resembles my Tara with her ebon coat – a gentle spirit.

With aging bones, she pushes up the stairs.
I stop beside them on the platform. Remembering a friend I’ve lost.
I admire the love between these two friends.

Waiting to board, she reaches down to rub her girls ears, tenderly stroking her soft, silky fur.
Her companion closes her eyes in comfort. In love.
I didn’t realize how much I missed her.

We board the train. A blanket placed on the floor.
She cuddles in – closes her eyes. She does the same.
They look so peaceful.

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posted by Lawrence in Love,Postcard Stories and have No Comments

Postcard Stories – Monies Things

Word Limit: 150 words or less
Three Words: Closet, Amendment, Antagonist

In my closet, my antagonist lives.
Under my bed lurks my adversary.
Only in prayer my echo forgives,
Within these walls my enemies marry.

In the basement my opposer dwells.
The boilers thunder is Evil’s cell.
On the telephone between words.
And in the songs of black birds.
My enemies poisonous whispers tell.

In the back seat of my car, on the floor
In drawers behind my office door
In my mind their voices control me
In my thoughts, in dreams I see

I made an amendment to destiny’s sole
Reaching for monies things, takes its toll
My dreams possessions quietly stole

So now anger follows my every move
Within my shadows, and in my shoes

In thoughts our message carries
The Evil in our eye the devil queries
But I can’t keep these thoughts out of my head
For within these walls their anger spreads.

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posted by Lawrence in Postcard Stories and have No Comments

Postcard Stories – My Valentine

Word Limit: 150 Words or less
Three Words: breakfast, frizzy, temptation
Title: Leading me into Temptation

Even as Claire looked into the mirror at her frizzy hair and pillow indented face, she couldn’t help but smile, thinking about the events of the past twelve hours.

The evening was one she had dreamt of from the moment Jake caught her eye. They had also danced for the first time that same night, and it was in his arms where she immediately fell in love.

It was now two years later, and all the temptation leading up to last night came flooding through her thoughts, as she stared into her peaceful blue eyes in Jakes bathroom mirror. She had not known this kind of happiness, this kind of contentment, in a long time.

Claire let Jacobs robe fall off her slender, tanned, naked body, and slipped back under the covers. She didn’t want this perfect night to end.

Suddenly, the sweet smell of breakfast. Heart-shaped pancakes.

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posted by Lawrence in Love,Postcard Stories,Romance and have Comments (3)

Postcard Stories – Turn Down, Yellow Night

Tara Girl

Tara Girl

Word Limit: 250 words or less
Three Words: – lustrous, fluttering, eclipse

I peer out the curtains. The streets are dark.

The house is quiet. Our family sound asleep. My faithful friend curled at my feet. I bend down and softly stroke her lustrous ebon coat. She lifts her head gently, stretching out her aging bones. Voicing an energetic yawn, she looks up at me with a playful stare.

“Time for a walk, pretty girl?”

She jumps up. Her happy tail fluttering with anticipation. This was the moment we patiently awaited each day.

We race to the back door, gather our things, and head out into the night.

The streets are silent, but a gentle wind. The boulevard lights that guide our way – out, yet the evening greets us brighter.

I look up past the empty maple that stretches high above our rooftop. The moon is full. It looks so lonely up there. Forgotten. Even the stars grace the evening sky, so often eclipsed by the yellow glow of row, upon row.

The night’s alive in this borrowed light, with artful shadows and cobalt skies, seasoned timbers reaching out, into these surreal hub-urban skies.

A voice in the distance calls the wolf moon.

She stops. Still.

Calling again.

A calendar stance. Perplexed? Orienting. Giving ear to the message of this night.

We continue on our way, pausing occasionally to appreciate this gift.

Moonlit walk on loan. The night light our elders had known.

If only the yellow night turned down, when the new moon began to crown.

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posted by Lawrence in Postcard Stories and have No Comments