The best aspect of being a writer is the freedom of time, imagination, and wonder. You can write four stories simultaneously.
Helene walked past smiles, head nods, and mouthed “wows” of the other musicians. She unstrapped her electric guitar, pulled it off her right shoulder and turned look at the stage. Sadie couldn’t contain her embullience.
“Leney, you did it! You just played Madison S…….”
“Daddy, I changed my mind, I’m a little hungry I want cheese ravioli too.”
Millicent rose in front of the judge. Her posture was and her face was stern but proud. She ran her manicured hands over the front of her Versace business suit, smoothing out tiny wrinkles. Her attorney, Reeve Mattox gave her left hand a gentle squeeze, but Millicent pulled away and smirked. The judge sighed and began reading.
“Millicent Stingley, on count one, murder in the first degree, the court finds you……”
“Daddy, can you open the basement door. We want to get our scooters out.”
Jake realized how importance of his relationship with Violet. Two weeks apart, under such strain and conflict had hurt him almost as much as Camille’s death. He read Mallory text one more time.
“Jake, I’ll be whatever you want me to be. I’m at The Ritz Carlton, room 327. Please come.”
He stood in front of the Hotel and dialed his phone. Violet answered.
“Vi, come home, I’ll be…..”
“Hey, um, can I go across the street to the neighbor’s house for like an hour? You’ll have to watch my sisters.”
Caleb and Breann stood in the hallway of the Hospital. Several nurses ran by and Breann saw Ava carrying a baby, swaddled in a gray blanket.
“Caleb, surely not! Not again!”
Caleb ran after Ava. She threw her right hip into an operating room door. Calen heard a lock move into place. Through a small window, Caleb saw Ava hand the infant to a nurse, who then unwrapped the child to ready for surgery. Caleb clenched his left fist and hit the window with he bottom of his hand.
“Ava! Open this door!”
Ava shook her head and walked to a green curtain and pulled it around the surgical area. Breann joined Caleb at the operating room door.
“Caleb’s what are they doing?”
Caleb’s face turned pale. He embraced Breann and whispered.
“Hey honey, it’s me. Just wanted to hear your voice. You can put the chicken back in the freezer. We’re eating at mom’s tonight.
I’m free, to do what I want any ole time.
This is a piece of somewhat creative nonfiction, about fiction, for Write On Edge’s “Freedom”. I hope they get what I was trying to do, here. Red ink is non-fiction.
Here’s The Soup Dragons’ I’m Free. Dance, ya’ll.