legacy

Friday Fictioneers — Treasure Box of Memories

Fandango22 Comments

In the attic of Grandpa’s house, between dusty novels and forgotten trinkets, Rebecca found the wooden box. Its surface was etched with tiny holes and a brass plate inscribed with his name.

Curious, she opened it. Inside were Cribbage pegs and yellowed score sheets. Grandpa’s handwriting danced across the paper, each tally a quiet memory. She smiled, remembering long evenings of laughter and competition.

That night, Rebecca taught her son the game, adding new tallies in fresh ink. The box wasn’t just for cards. It was for connection, legacy, and stories that continued long after the final peg was placed.

(100 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Ted Strutz.

SCOTUS — The Roberts Court

Fandango4 Comments

This Doonsebury strip today from Garry Trudeau targets Chief Justice John Roberts and his 6-3 ultra-conservative majority court as being out of touch with the real-world consequences of its rulings. Trudeau hit it out of the park with this strip today.

History will judge John Roberts and his court accordingly.

An Unwanted Gift

Fandango15 Comments

“Seriously, what harm can it cause to display his artwork in the lobby of the building?” the attorney for the family argued in a mellifluent voice. “Hal Simpson was a patient here for many years and his family wants his paintings to be their gift and his legacy. He was, after all, a very versatile artist.”

“A versatile artist?” the building owner stated in a quiet voice, in contrast to that of the attorney. “It’s ridiculous to argue that the family of the creator of pornographic and sacrilegious paintings has a right to hang such offensive paintings in the lobby of a nursing home run by a religious order simply because he was a patient here. The fact that Mr. Simpson put in his will that his paintings were to be hung in the lobby of the nursing home does not put any obligation on the part of the building owner or the nursing home to comply.”

Written for these daily prompts: Word of the Day Challenge (artwork), The Daily Spur (harm), Your Daily Word (mellifluent), Fandango’s One Word Challenge (versatile), My Vivid Blog, (quiet), and Ragtag Daily Prompt (ridiculous).

FOWC with Fandango — Legacy

Fandango26 Comments

FOWCWelcome to May 14, 2020 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “legacy.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

The issue with pingbacks not showing up seems to have been resolved, but you might check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.

#writephoto — Appreciate the Calm Serenity

Fandango12 Comments

510733DB-B841-4BED-837E-82805DD71436Lenny sat down on the sand, took a deep breath, and let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Are you okay?” his wife asked, sitting down next to him.

“No, I’m far from okay,” he said. “The whole world is topsy-turvy, empathy and civility have disappeared, political and societal norms are fractured, our democratic institutions are crumbling, and everything we know and have trusted is being sabotaged by those in power right in front of our eyes.”

“I know, honey,” Lorraine said. “That’s why we’re here. To escape that nonsense, even for just a few days. You need to stop thinking about it, clear your mind, recharge your batteries, and appreciate the calm serenity of this place.”

“Unless we stay here forever, there’s no escape from what is happening to our country.” Lenny lamented.

“Lenny, when we were young, we were activists,” Lorraine said. “We protested the Vietnam war. We marched with Dr. King, we fought for environmental protections, we worked to support progressive candidates.”

“I know,” Lenny said. “We’re old now. We’re in our seventies. We need to hand over the torch to the younger generation. It’s their future, not ours, that is on the line.”

“Exactly,” said Lorraine. “We need to make the most of our golden years and pass the baton to our kids. It’s their problem now. They have a vested interest in turning things around and making our country and the world a better, friendlier, and more livable place.”

“Right,” Lenny said. “And our kids will look back at us and wonder how we screwed things up so badly. Our legacy will be that we destroyed their future almost beyond repair.”

Now it was Lorraine’s turn take a deep breath to and let out a long, heavy sigh. “You always have a way of ruining even the most serene moment, don’t you? Thanks a lot, you crotchety old fart. Now I’m in a bad mood.”

Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent.

Sunday Photo Fiction — The Legacy

Fandango13 Comments

60E8D740-BD31-4AB0-BF4B-8AB3BAD2A9D5The old man spent his entire life building log cabins. He built his first one with his father more than sixty years ago. He was in this late teens at the time, his whole life ahead of him. Now he was almost 80 and his days were numbered. He wasn’t quite broken yet, but he was certainly bent.

This was to be his last cabin. His arthritic hands, sore joints, stooped back, and atrophying muscles betrayed him on his life-long quest to be remembered as the “log cabin man.” He wanted his log cabins to be his legacy.

He was constructing this cabin for his youngest grandson, who was in the army and had recently been deployed to the southern border to help build that damn wall.

He was praying every day that he would have the strength to finish building the cabin. He certainly had the determination.  But it was a struggle.

And then one day, as he was notching out a log, the old man slumped over, unable to breathe.

His grandson was granted bereavement leave upon the death of his grandfather. And he swore that he would finish the cabin as an homage to the “log cabin man.”

(200 words)

Written for Susan Spaulding’s Sunday Photo Fiction and her photo. Also for the Word of the Day prompt, “quest.”