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  • ContactRida 11:36 pm on July 18, 2015 Permalink | Reply  

    work in progress? 

    i have not contributed lately due to offline pressures and responsibilities. but if there is a pure soul out there in Philadelphia willing to come over and help me post my ‘real web page’ let me know. must be an expert coder and designer. will pay.

    just putting that out there. jeff pics

    • Matthew A Bennett 10:13 am on October 22, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Did you ever get your real website up?

      • ContactRida 6:42 pm on November 5, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        hey Matt:) I drove last week from Philadelphia, PA to Farmington, New Mexico, 2300 miles. I now live and work in New Mexico. Adjusting to life is all i have time for. I sometimes think people online don’t have offline lives. Perhaps that’s just the asshole in me:) Hope you are doing well…Rida-

        • Matthew A Bennett 9:10 pm on November 5, 2015 Permalink | Reply

          Congratulations! (I think!) I hope that it was good – I know I’d be thrilled to get out of PA and move to somewhere warm – but it always depends on the situation, doesn’t it? Well, if you’re not blogging much or at all, I’d still like to keep in touch with such a cool person. Send me an email every once in a while and let me know what’s going on with you.

          • ContactRida 9:17 pm on November 5, 2015 Permalink | Reply

            thank you Matt. i just posted myself on a datesite, yuck. but gotta meet new people. once i settle into a routine, i will start online again…

  • ContactRida 5:43 am on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

    the meaning of life is living 

    Jump though your landing is uncertain.
    Laugh until your tears well over.
    Caveman never be, but do evolve.
    Crank up your vibrations and feel.
    Filter out negativity, focus on now.
    Clues to the meaning of life.
    Photo Credit:
    Six on the Sixth Prompt – Mar 2015 (More …)

  • ContactRida 4:38 am on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

    Sunny Side Up 

    Sara cringed. Arnie, enraged she made scrambled eggs and not sunny side up, flung the plate at her head. A thin stream of blood crept down the side of her face. Years of falsely claiming she’s clumsy, hiding bruises and living in alienation and fear. “No more,” she screamed as she gripped the handle of the cast iron skillet. He crumpled to the kitchen floor with one blow. The second blow ensured he’d never hurt her again. His high fences finally came in handy. She buried him in the soft earth by the mushrooms that resembled sunny side up eggs.
    erin-leary PHOTO PROMPT – © Erin Leary

    • rochellewisoff 4:26 am on March 9, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Dear CR,

      Now that’s really keeping her sunny side up. Justifiable homicide IMHO. Nicely done.



    • Priceless Joy 11:01 pm on March 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      A pity she allowed herself to endure so much before she found the handle to the iron skillet. Too bad that women were (and are) convicted of murder for defending themselves.

    • Inside the Mind of Isadora 12:03 am on March 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Powerful interpretation of the photo prompt. At last, she took back her power. Thoroughly, enjoyed it.

      • ContactRida 12:06 am on March 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. unfortunately when the woman does finally fight back to save her life, the courts convict her for murder in most cases. sad…

        • Inside the Mind of Isadora 12:44 am on March 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

          So very true …. the courts don’t have sympathy. They follow the law and the law is it.

          • ContactRida 1:22 am on March 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

            • Inside the Mind of Isadora 3:36 am on March 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

              Thank you for directing me to this. A very informative read. I plan to view the video on HBO. Two of my daughters were abused by spouses. I have had the court experience and the pain of watching it happening. I raised my daughters to be strong women. Seeing them deminished brought me feelings of helplessness. I, too, wished to hit a frying pan upon their heads. I, too, realized the reprocussions but the anger towards them. These are my babies who were destroyed. I praise God I have been able to help them rise up again. But, the scars remain. It’s a powerful subject that must never be allowed to decrease in the media and in conversation.

              • ContactRida 5:33 am on March 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

                i am very sorry you had to endure such horror and sadness. thank you for sharing. we must continue to shine the light on domestic violence.

    • erinleary 11:50 am on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      This is another story with eggs made incorrectly! It’s a great theme and I love that people see that in the mushrooms. Nicely done.

      • ContactRida 8:02 pm on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you very much. i had to blow the pic up to see what they actually were: mushrooms and not discarded sunny side up eggs.

    • aliciajamtaas 10:48 am on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Enough is enough! NO more excuses. Well done.

    • milliethom 8:34 am on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Exciting story, Rida. I love the use of the word skillet – it’s not one used too often nowadays over here (UK). The comparison of the mushrooms to sunny-side up eggs was very clever and the burial site incredibly apt. 🙂

      • ContactRida 8:10 pm on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you very much Millie. i grew up using heavy black frying pans but they don’t make those anymore but my grandmom still has hers. so i chose a more commonly used pan: a skillet:)

    • draliman 6:26 am on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Good for her. Not that I’m advocating murder🙂 but it sounds like he had it coming.
      Great story, and nice link back to the “sunny side up” eggs.

    • Taygibay 5:16 am on March 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Great choice of burial spot : mushrooms are amongst the best recyclers of the forest!😉

      Good day Rida, Tay.

  • ContactRida 2:28 am on February 6, 2015 Permalink | Reply


    Like an Aardvark digging for termites,

    Ronald clawed under the Apple tree.

    His Truck’s high-beams, the only light.

    “Pay up or we Kill her.”

    Money Left. “She’s under the tree.”

    Papers headline: Kidnapped child buried alive…


    photo credit:

    Six on the Sixth Prompt – Feb 2015

  • ContactRida 8:25 am on February 4, 2015 Permalink | Reply


    There is a place where beauty and evil lie intertwined

    Where hope becomes that moist, sweet air which liberates before it confines

    Birds above and sky crisp blue do not whisper of such things

    But he will bellow with deafening rage, “I am the Yellow King!”

    You count the flat brown patches as you race through the green maze

    Fourteen so far as you turn toward the voice, not seeing fifteen, your open grave

    You claw and scrape to leave the pit as his steps draw closer

    “My lovely, you will never leave this place. You are forever in Carcosa.”









    PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Melanie Greenwood 

    • Melanie 5:17 pm on February 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      I enjoyed your story. You created a frightening atmosphere. Well done.

    • milliethom 11:48 am on February 6, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      I love the way you have written this. Though undeniably on the dak side, the imagery is very lovely, as is the rhythm. I, too, had to look up Carcosa. It’s interesting that the name may be derived from the old French town of Carcassonne. I think I’ll have to have a look at the detective novels, too!

      • ContactRida 10:07 pm on February 6, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. carcosa brings up dark thoughts for me and it was the first thing i thought of when i looked at the photo…

        • milliethom 5:24 am on February 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

          I can understand that. There is definitely something dark about being lost in a place of shadows and mystery . . . and who knows what else? I’ts so interesting, though, to read the many different interpretations of the same picture. Yours was fascinating.

    • draliman 8:03 am on February 5, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Very dark, I enjoyed the way you wrote it. (I had a quick Google of “Carcosa” as well.)

      • ContactRida 1:13 am on February 6, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. yes, Carcosa is a bit obscure, but not if you’re a True Detective fan…

    • rochellewisoff 5:10 am on February 5, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Dear CR,

      I agree with Joy. Spooky and atmospheric.



    • Margaret 4:00 am on February 5, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Ooh a chilling one. Love the rhythm. Love the imagery.

    • Priceless Joy 10:49 pm on February 4, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      A bit spooky.

    • Björn Rudberg (brudberg) 8:43 am on February 4, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      This send me googling into carcosa and what you mean.. but I think the pieces fell together.. Love the grave and the panics that induce.

      • ContactRida 9:32 am on February 4, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        i got my idea from True Detectives:

        • Melanie 5:15 pm on February 7, 2015 Permalink | Reply

          I was wondering if it was True Detectives. That was such a great season. I don’t want to wait to summer for season 2.

          • ContactRida 11:06 am on February 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

            yes it was TD. i loved that show and can’t wait til season 2 if there is one.

            • Melanie 12:01 pm on February 8, 2015 Permalink | Reply

              I keep reading that there will be, but when keeps changing. It’s got to be hard to top season 1.

              • ContactRida 2:34 am on February 11, 2015 Permalink | Reply

                perhaps if they don’t try to top it but hunt down different monsters. the world seems to have an unending supply of monsters…

  • ContactRida 2:41 am on January 22, 2015 Permalink | Reply

    never to have loved 

    My heart has never mended from the pain it suffered
    When you turned your back to me, I never felt so helpless
    Countless years pass as I pine for what was lost
    I grieve for the love I had, I grieve for what it’s cost
    To you we were nothing but two ships passing in the night
    To me you were the sun and the moon, oh how my heart took flight
    I stand here now a shadow of my former self having lost what I once loved
    Wishing better my ship had stayed docked, better never to have loved

    Copyright – Georgia Koch

    • Margaret 6:23 pm on January 24, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      So much sorrow. Touching interpretation of the picture – the image of passing boats works well here.

      • ContactRida 3:52 am on January 26, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. it was one of my first thoughts, 2 ships passing. i also thought of the song, Brandy, “…my life, my love and my lady, is the sea…”

    • milliethom 9:08 am on January 24, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Your poem is absolutely beautiful. The language is so evocative and emotion pulsates from every line. That you have based it on personal experience make it doubly poignant. Thank you for sharing this.

      • ContactRida 11:20 am on January 24, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        no. thank you for enjoying it. as always (i don’t know if this happens to all writers) what i started out to write and what i ended up with, were two totally different things. i didn’t plan on writing about myself. guess my subconscious takes over when i least expect it. if that makes any sense. til next friday… if i feel inspired. and for me, some things will hurt forever. i just accept the pain and try to use it in a positive way.

    • kirsten 6:14 pm on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      a powerful poem! You could taste the pain in each line.

    • Björn Rudberg (brudberg) 5:08 pm on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      The pain seems to be bottomless .. I guess the brighter the joy the darker the sorrow…

      • ContactRida 8:13 pm on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861) phrased it best:

        How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
        I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
        My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
        For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
        I love thee to the level of everyday’s
        Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
        I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
        I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
        I love thee with a passion put to use
        In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
        I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
        With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
        Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
        I shall but love thee better after death.

        this is how i love, which explains why i haven’t been in a relationship since that soul-taking betrayal…

    • Sally Stackhouse 10:42 am on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      A heart felt poem – I understand that grief as well.

      • ContactRida 1:17 pm on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. something amazing can come from tragedy when we allow ourselves to grieve fully…

    • patrickprinsloo 10:40 am on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Terribly sad and great rhyming couplets.
      Hope you find a suitable lifejacket – time to swim, not drown.

    • Sarah Ann Hall 6:36 am on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      So sad, and the contrast between the two parties and their desires is so stark. That last line is heart-wrenching.

      • ContactRida 1:21 pm on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        i know the last line is heart wrenching, but writing it down and making something special of it, makes the pain just a little bit more bearable. but i’d still rather never have the pain…

    • draliman 3:56 am on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      It’s awful when one person feels so much stronger about a relationship than the other. You told it so well.
      They say “it’s better to have loved and lost…” but I’m not so sure either.

      • ContactRida 1:28 pm on January 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. i’m not so sure either. it rips your heart out and you feel betrayed when your love is deeper and pure and complete but the other person just sees something different. i so truly wish this story wasn’t from experience. i may publish the letters i wrote him, nearly 200, while he was stationed in Iraq. he wrote me about 7. guess i should have known then. C’est la vie.

    • plaridel 10:58 pm on January 22, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      i felt the pain. you had expressed it well. nice job..

    • Michael B. Fishman 2:09 pm on January 22, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      It’s kind of spooky but it’s almost like you took the words for this story/poem out of my head. I’m sorry you still grieve for the love you lost, but I’m happy to find out that I’m not alone!🙂

    • dmmacilroy 5:26 am on January 22, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Dear CR,

      A foray into poetry is always fraught with peril. You’re braver than most. I feel the pain.



    • rochellewisoff 5:25 am on January 22, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Dear ContactRida,

      I can feel the pain of her loss.



      • ContactRida 8:57 pm on January 22, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you Rochelle, wish i could say it wasn’t from personal experience…

  • ContactRida 5:31 am on January 15, 2015 Permalink | Reply

    windows to the soul 

    Ben returned home. He completed rehab. His fourth. He fixated on the screen and courtyard. His parent’s estate was opulent, “…yet the screen… the courtyard…” he queried aloud. He felt his sobriety rested on solving this mystery. “Why put a cheap screen in this house? Why eat facing a barren courtyard?” After several moments, he gradually realized he was looking at himself. The home’s opulence represented his rich kid façade; the screen, his ugly heroin addiction; and lastly the courtyard, his empty soul. “Benjamin, are you ready?” “Yes mother,” he called out, knowing this meal would be his last supper.


    PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields

    • rochellewisoff 8:23 pm on January 19, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Dear ContactRida,

      It’s interesting that you see Ben turning a corner while many of us read that he’d made peace with suicide. Must be that “last supper” thing.

      Nicely done.



      • ContactRida 11:01 pm on January 21, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you Rochelle. this story is inspired by a real person i met. he’s a good person. i just wish he’d stop…

    • Margaret 3:18 am on January 17, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Interesting approach. An intriguing snapshot of a turning point in his life.

      • ContactRida 1:12 pm on January 19, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. we all have turning points, hopefully we choose the right paths…

    • sustainabilitea 10:08 pm on January 15, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      So sad that after going through all that, he’s going to end it.


      • ContactRida 11:37 am on January 16, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        yes end it. but it’s up to you which end you see for him. it could be the end of living a lie and starting his own life away from this place he called home. his last supper could be his first step to no longer being empty.

    • BrainRants 12:54 pm on January 15, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Wow. Bold use of the leading ellipsis as you open his out-loud thoughts. It lends the reader the notion he started saying aloud what was inside his troubled head.

      • ContactRida 11:38 am on January 16, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you very much. i talk aloud all the time and usually answer myself. childhood habit that will never die.

    • Caerlynn Nash 9:24 am on January 15, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      If only people understood the multitude of reasons for addictions, perhaps we wouldn’t have so many “barren courtyards.” Great metaphor.

    • draliman 8:09 am on January 15, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      It sounds like he’s losing his battle against addiction, poor chap. I like the idea of using the scene as reflections of different parts of him.

      • ContactRida 11:42 am on January 16, 2015 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. i believe Ben had an epiphany, a moment of clarity and decided he wasn’t going to live this way anymore. suicide or sobriety is up to the reader. me personally, i see him destroying his old foundation and creating a new one; one without addiction.

  • ContactRida 3:39 pm on November 19, 2014 Permalink | Reply

    creature of habit 

    “Humans are creatures of habit. No matter how clever they believe they are, their habits are always their undoing. Gurser’s habit was life insurance. First victims: his in-laws, the Ropers. Car accident. Nothing definitive on the crash, but he’s a skilled mechanic. Next: his mother-in-law. Easy target. Her depression over the sudden loss of her son and husband consumed her. He used her prescribed sleeping pills. We may never have caught him, but Al used the same bottle of pills on his wife Edith. See Sheriff? Habit.”

    In a defeated voice, Sheriff Marsden muttered, “Guess that’s why you’re the eff-bee-eye.”


    PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Claire Fuller

    • wildbilbo 5:16 am on November 25, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      I liked this take on the prompt – profiling a murderer (complete with jurisdictional in-fighting). Worked well.

    • Björn Rudberg (brudberg) 3:58 am on November 25, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Ah.. good thing that the bad guys have habits. Makes it easy to be FBI.. wonder what the Sheriff’s habits are… Khaki pants?

    • Margaret 6:02 am on November 23, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      A little FBI psychological insight gave him a way in and solved the case. Maybe the sheriff can learn a thing or two for his next case. Good story.

      • ContactRida 5:59 am on November 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. i think the sheriff will learn but after he finishes licking his wounded pride…

    • sustainabilitea 10:12 am on November 20, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Your last line reminded me of a series that takes place on an Indian reservation and they call the FBI man, FB-Eyes. 🙂


      • ContactRida 2:33 pm on November 20, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        haha:) never saw it but FBI agents think they’re so smart. was hoping to display some of the Sheriff’s disdain for them through his over-pronunciation:)

    • Claire Fuller 3:54 am on November 20, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Nice story, well written. I was just a little confused when you had that his first victims were his in-laws, because this implies his mother-in-law and his father-in-law, but then he goes and kills his mother-in-law next. I understood it in the end, but perhaps it could be tightened…

      • ContactRida 2:31 pm on November 20, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thanks. will do next time. just wanted to tie this story to the last pic. so many people wanted Al caught for murdering his wife. just added a little background. she wasn’t his first but she was definitely his last:)

    • dmmacilroy 3:49 am on November 20, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear Rida,

      I wish you’d make it a habit to write more here. You do it so well and this story is no exception. Well done.



      • ContactRida 2:25 pm on November 20, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you so much Doug. i’v had ADHD my entire life. i jump from one thing to the next. writing has started to feel like homework assignments i avoid. it feels better when i am inspired instead of being “forced” to produce all of the time. writing has become that needy husband…

    • draliman 3:45 am on November 20, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Poor sheriff, the FBI running roughshod all over his investigation and showing him up. They solved the crime, though!

  • ContactRida 4:19 am on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

    gone girl 

    “Sometimes, a man’s gotta upgrade,” hissed Al. Edith broke their vows. Again. Sleeping pills in her brandy dociled her. He loaded her into the rusted wagon and let the exhaust fumes finish her off.

    “Al, I’m real sorry ‘bout Edith. Your wagon’s back from impound. We ain’t found no note, but most of the town knows ‘bout her mamma. Sometimes the apple don’t fall far from the tree. Shame. We’ll push this through so you can bury her by week’s-end. “ Sheriff Marsden headed towards the door, “I noticed your new ride. Sweet.”

    Al quipped, “Sometimes, a man’s gotta upgrade.”

    image cars

    PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jean L. Hays

    • Nan Falkner 1:12 am on November 11, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear Amanda, Good story and such a different turn – I love it. Well, Edith strayed one too many times, I guess. I think he will get away with it. Very well written! Nan 🙂

    • Yaral Code 5:27 pm on November 10, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      A serial killer in the making, well done.

      • ContactRida 2:50 pm on November 12, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you very much:) well when you get away with it once, then the next time is easier…

    • Margaret 4:18 pm on November 10, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      He’s a nasty piece of work! I love the way the whole back story comes through Sheriff Marsden’s dialogue, and the repetition with loads of meaning from Al. Cleverly done. Very sinister.

      • ContactRida 2:48 pm on November 12, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you Margaret:) it tells so much about ourselves what we each see in the same picture. and no, i am not a serial killer. that requires too much traveling;)

    • jenniesisler 6:00 am on November 10, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Yikes! I hope Al gets caught, though I think the sheriff is a bit naive for that to happen any time soon.

      • ContactRida 2:44 pm on November 12, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        the consensus wants poor Al behind bars. i don’t know, i kinda like the bastard;)

    • Björn Rudberg (brudberg) 3:15 pm on November 8, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Seems like things are going well for the the dark man,… But just maybe his new ride will take him to a traffic accident.

    • rochellewisoff 8:19 pm on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear Amanda,

      I wonder if the police will get suspicious of the new ride. Somehow I don’t think so. He seems to have the perfect alibi. Well done.



    • jenniesisler 2:33 pm on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Wow, that’s probably the darkest piece I’ve read for this prompt. Hopefully he gets what’s coming to him.

      • ContactRida 6:52 pm on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you:) i do enjoy dark stories. perhaps his souped up monster car will look for an upgraded owner:)

    • patrickprinsloo 10:41 am on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Oh, Edith. Not again. You know what will happen.
      Oh, Al, you won’t get away with it.
      Nice little tale.

      • ContactRida 6:53 pm on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you. unfortunately he may never be caught. he’s a pillar of the community…

    • Caerlynn Nash 8:00 am on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Well done! Great response to a tough prompt!

      • ContactRida 6:56 pm on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you very much. i saw murder instantly when i looked at the rusted station wagon. can’t wait to read everyone else’s take…

    • draliman 7:52 am on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Ooh, nasty man and he’s going to get away with it too! I like the implied “double upgrade”, now that he’s single again🙂

      • ContactRida 6:59 pm on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        technically, he’s widowed:) but since the first murder was so easy, he may strike again…

    • Sandra 4:41 am on November 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      When a man’s had enough, he’s had enough. Could have waited a little while though for the up-grade.

  • ContactRida 4:49 pm on July 23, 2014 Permalink | Reply

    Too Sexy 

    “Superior? Really?” Melissa thought as she marveled at the dented and peeling laminate table top complete with over-sized dime store candle. She believed she had hit rock-bottom with the ‘Trav-is-New’ Jesus freak who brought his bible on their first date, “I believe all answers to our problems are in the Good Book.” She wished for the rapture for that ‘Trav-is-sty’. But ‘Brad-to-the-Bone’ took the cake, “I have a B.O.G.O. free coupon on entrees! Let’s go Dutch on Sum Dim-Dim!” “More like Sad-to-the-Bone,” she lamented to herself as she deleted her online profile while Brad brandished his coupon between his chopsticks.


    photo credit: Marie Gail Stratford

    • Michael B. Fishman 2:27 pm on July 28, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Fun story. I hope it’s not too autobiographical but I have a funny feeling that it is.

    • patriciaruthsusan 7:14 am on July 27, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Rida, That was hilarious.🙂 I liked the part where she was removing her profile from online dating during the date. Looks like she felt immediate action was needed to prevent this happening again. I don’t blame her. I could see him with those chopsticks. Funny and well written.🙂 —Susan

    • rochellewisoff 4:45 am on July 26, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear CR,

      A little bit of modern day Dorothy Parker going on. Reminded me of her piece “The Waltz.” Probably was a good idea to take down her online profile.

      Nicely played.



    • Snow's Fissures and Fractures 7:21 am on July 25, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Such a funny story, had a blast reading it!

    • MrBinks 4:38 am on July 25, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      This reads so quickly. Really liked it.

    • aliciajamtaas 12:35 pm on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Great word play with the names. Kudos.

      • ContactRida 12:40 pm on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you thank you. i got the dim sum pun from a Jet Li movie, well, i made my own pun. in the movie, a guy said to Jet Li, “Dim sum you win, dim sum you lose.” of course Jet Li then proceeded to kick his @$$:)

    • wmqcolby 11:33 am on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Too cool! Creatively so, too.
      Applause all around! Five fortune cookie story!

    • Melanie 10:12 am on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Go dutch…ha! Let me guess, she got the buy one and he got the get one. Dating can be so irritating.

    • draliman 4:14 am on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Not having much luck with the online dating scene, poor woman!
      I loved the line “brandished his coupon between his chopsticks” – I can see him in my head doing just that with a triumphant grin on his face.

      • ContactRida 12:27 pm on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        hahaha! no luck unless you count the bad luck:) thanks for enjoying a slice of fact mixed with fiction:) those are the best and easiest tales to share:)

    • dmmacilroy 2:57 am on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear CR,

      An uniquely imaginative take on the prompt. Another one bites the dust. Evolution at its best.



    • The Writer's Village 9:44 pm on July 23, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Great, tight story. Funny. Liked the great observation of the “dented and peeling laminate table top” and the dialogue, the sarcasm, and the pace of your writing. Randy

      • ContactRida 12:19 pm on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you for your insightful compliments Randy:) now i feel bad when i just ‘Like’ a post:)

    • Gunn's Cabin Fever 5:46 pm on July 23, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Really juicy writing full of flavours! I think the way you take the reader through the date is wonderful. Great writing.

      • ContactRida 12:16 pm on July 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you very much:) my dates are always memorable, one way or the other:)

    • camgal 5:24 pm on July 23, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      ROTFL!! Trav-i-sty indeed🙂 Hilariously done.

  • ContactRida 3:20 am on July 11, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: father of mine,   

    familiar storm 

    “Thomas hide! Now!” The storm was here. “But mommie I’m scared.” Thomas glanced at his birthday cake. The 10 candles were still burning though the cake littered the dining room floor with the overturned table. “Go!” she screamed with terror and courage in her voice.

    Thomas darted into the cellar, bolting the door behind him as she had taught him. He squeezed his hands against his ears, but could still hear glass shattering and muffled screams. Then silence.

    Thomas unbolted the door. His mother lay crumpled on the kitchen floor, bloodied. “It’s alright Thomas. Daddy’s gone.” His storm had passed.

    coming storm

    photo credit: Kelly Sands

    • Sarah Ann 2:36 pm on July 14, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Very well set up as a weather event before the reveal.

    • patriciaruthsusan 3:43 am on July 14, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Rida, A well-written story and fitting music to accompany it. I’m sure that happens often and it’s terrible. It’s possible that father was beaten as a child. It’s so sad. How wonderful the mother protects that little one, but she needs to find a way out if possible before he kills her. Well done. —Susan

    • rochellewisoff 4:10 pm on July 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Dear C.R.

      Sounds like it’s time for Mommy to find a “storm shelter” for her and Tommy.
      Too real for comfort. Well done.



      • ContactRida 4:21 pm on July 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you very much. sometimes the best stories are the worst stories.

    • K.Z. 11:43 pm on July 12, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      wow what an ending… very moving and terrifying.

    • Sun 9:31 pm on July 12, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      powerfully written and nice bonus with the song. i like how you included the song with just a line bar.

      • ContactRida 3:17 pm on July 13, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        thank you:) i just upload music from my computer. i’m sure you can do the same with Itunes or however you download tunes.

    • aliciajamtaas 8:43 pm on July 12, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Many stories this time relating the picture to men as evil storms…. Well done.

    • hafong 1:03 pm on July 12, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      The emotions and story sound so real. If it is based on experience, you are making good use of it. Bravo!


    • Dreamer of Dreams 4:28 pm on July 11, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      That was a frightening story, and very deeply moving. Beautifully narrated.

    • Chris 9:54 am on July 11, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Woah, I was not expecting that. I thought at first it was a fairly ‘ordinary’ story, but I was wrong. That twist was such a powerful turn of events.

    • draliman 6:01 am on July 11, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Nice twist at the end, gave the whole story a much more chilling feel.

    • Anita 4:02 am on July 11, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Oh. So emotional. Wish such violence never happened…

  • ContactRida 1:45 pm on July 6, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: C'est la vie, that's life   

    C'est la vie 

    She stared at the screen, eyes blood shot red, spine spasming, and thought, “I don’t have it in me. I can’t create with my tank on Empty.” She had worked 14 straight nights. Sunday would be her first day off. Or so she thought. “Could you cover this Sunday? I hate to ask but we are short.” begged the supervisor. She had put in for a transfer on the 9th night but Corporate denied the request. She was also embroiled in a CNA suspension whom she reported sleeping, “Could you please give another statement as to how many times you saw the aide sleeping and what you did to intervene?” questioned the Director of Nursing in a seemingly innocuous office email. The Company had already settled in two lawsuits of negligent death, now there’s Sleep-Gate.

    “Good morning beautiful,” texted Brian. She had no clue who he was. Maybe from OKCupid. Maybe from that dance club last summer. She didn’t know and had no interest putting any thought into it. “Hi. I’m headed to the gym,” she lied, “talk to you soon,” another lie. She wondered why he kept texting her, “Because you have no interest in him.” she answered aloud.

    But she also had no interest in sex, “The longer I go without sex, the longer I can go without sex.” she remembered saying to her therapist. She didn’t  even have interest in self-pleasure. But her body told another story. When counting narcs with Remi, the half Egyptian, half Russian male nurse, she felt a heavy moisture between her legs, “Great. Just what I need. My period.” she grimaced to herself. When she went to the bathroom to survey the damage, she found clear slippery fluid instead. It seems standing next to an attractive man made her body prepare for an act that was never going to come (tongue in cheek).

    So she sits and writes with no particular purpose, other than to say, “I am still here. Battered but still here.”

    jeff pics

  • ContactRida 3:10 pm on June 27, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , parable   

    MY HOME! 

    Awenasa pleaded, “Father, tell me the story again.”

    “It is late child,” he hushed, “but if you promise to –.“

    Awenasa bounced into bed gleefully, “I promise Father to offer seven blessings to the Great Buffalo Spirit!”

    Father acquiesced, “Many millennia ago, when Earthlings consumed their resources, the Great Plague consumed the planet killing almost all life. What remained was the Tree of Life. From it sprung true evolution of all which had been denied freedom and dignity in the yester-years. From this new life, came a new people who blessed their planet with what Cherokee name?”

    “Awenasa!” she burst with triumph.

    “And what does that mean child?”

    “My home, Father. It means, My Home!”

    Tree of Life

    photo credit: Madison Woods

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