As the wonderful season of autumn / fall approaches us, I wanted to create an original writing prompt series to celebrate!
I invite everyone who sees this to participate, if you choose.
The idea is to look at the prompt, take at least five minutes on three Fridays in September 2019, and come up with a story/poem/scene, or whatever strikes your fancy with those words.
I may extend this further than the end of September, but we shall see. Until then, have fun! You can use the image at the top of this post – Just please make sure to credit it.
Here we go!
- September 13th: Apple Picking
- September 20th: Fall Leaves
- September 27th: Pumpkin Patch
“What makes you think that going apple picking was a good idea?!”
Cheryl winced at Sam’s words. She tried to listen to him, while holding back hot tears.
“I thought this was going to be a weekend away, Cheryl – A weekend just for us. But, having the kids come along with us? That’s not a weekend away in my book!”
Two-year-old Abby stopped examining her apple, and looked up at her mom. Her face said it all.
Cheryl swayed back and forth, trying to see if baby Ezra was still asleep in the carrier on her chest. At ten pounds, her shoulders ached. He was a beautiful baby, her answer to prayer for a boy, but heavy.
Sam continued. “I can’t believe we drove all this way for this. I would rather be anywhere else than here.”
Cheryl sighed. She loved Sam, but he lost his filter when he got frustrated. This, this was borderline anger though. And it wasn’t the first time.
Abby had moved on to another apple, but didn’t speak. Or dance. Or sing. Cheryl let one tear slip, hoping it didn’t smear the makeup she’d worked so hard to apply that morning.
As Sam started to berate her, growing louder among the beautiful apple orchard, Cheryl adjusted Ezra’s weight. He sighed slightly, and Cheryl knew he wanted to nurse.
“Cheryl? Are you listening to me?”
As she got Ezra settled, she looked at her husband. She nodded, and turned her attention back to Ezra.
“There’s a good boy, my sweet boy.”
“You’re not paying attention to a word I’m saying. Fine. I won’t say anything at all.”
Sam crossed his arms. Cheryl patted Ezra’s back, and kept an eye on Abby. She hated the silent treatment. But only a few words came out of her mouth, with the perfect red lipstick.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m sorry. I ruined this. All of this.”
Abby finally spoke up, with her sweet voice breaking the painful silence.
“Mommy, can we pick more apples?”
Cheryl felt another tear escape, but smiled at her firstborn.
“Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go this way.”
Abby smiled, and started singing to herself as Cheryl took her sticky hand. Ezra finished nursing, and burped. Cheryl smiled a little as she walked away from Sam, leaving his plaid shirt and quilted vest behind. She wasn’t sure what was in store after this, but she didn’t care one bit. Her children, sweet and innocent, gave her courage.
Come back next Friday for another prompt post!
If you do decide to participate, please link back to this post. Thanks!
Until the next headline, Laura Beth 🙂