Fiction: Mother’s Helper

Little Bobby’s mother said, “I’m going in to check on dinner. I’ll be right back out. You stay here in the driveway.”

The door closed behind her and Bobby immediately aimed his tricycle at the busy street in front of the house. He pedaled as fast as he could and giggled in glee at the rush of speed.

He launched himself out of the driveway and into the path of an oncoming car. Continue reading “Fiction: Mother’s Helper”

Fiction: Newton’s Laws of Motion, Briefly

1) A body at rest tends to remain at rest and a body in motion tends to remain in motion until acted on by some outside force.

We walked toward each other. At the corner, our eyes met, and we each knew the other as the soulmate we had been awaiting. We kept moving, past each other, but we turned in perfect synchronicity and walked backward so as not to lose sight. We smiled, knowing that pure love was finally ours.

2) A body will accelerate proportionally to a force acting on it and inversely proportional to the mass.

She was in the crosswalk where an SUV hit her. Her trim, light body spilled onto the pavement, rolling, rolling…

3) For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

I relive those few perfect seconds before her death, and I bathe again in the warmth of her love, by engaging in life in every positive way I can. That includes volunteer work as an elementary school crossing guard where, perhaps, our children might have gone.

Fiction: Red Riding Hood and the Wolves

Grandmother was feeling a little poorly, so her granddaughter packed some food in a wicker basket to take to her. Because the day was a little chilly, she put on the curve-hugging white sweater. Her jeans accentuated other curves, and she chose her Mary Janes with the one-inch heels. She was a tall girl and rarely wore a higher heel. A bit of lipstick and eyeliner and she was set.

Just before leaving, she donned her red cape and put the hood over her head, pulling her long blonde hair forward so that it flowed down her sweater .

Grandmother’s house was a straight shot to the west, a mere fifteen blocks. But two of those blocks were the tail end of the bad part of the city. It was where the wolves hung out; they liked to prey on girls crossing from one part of town to the other. Also, it was safer for them than the center of the bad part, because a mere wolf couldn’t survive among the strange and dangerous creatures there.

Continue reading “Fiction: Red Riding Hood and the Wolves”

Fiction: Critical Mass

After more than three decades as a priest, Father Joe thought nothing of the two men who came into the church after the mass had begun. Not even when they all but marched down the center aisle, failed to genuflect, and sat in the front pews on either side where two other men already sat. Father Joe was caught up in his work.

When it happened again during the Act of Contrition, he still did not give it more than the most passing notice. People came in late, babies cried, people unwrapped peppermints. Church was a strangely noisy place.

At the end of the first reading, two more men strode down the aisle and seated themselves down front, just as the others had done. Father Joe was starting to notice. He looked briefly at the men and was startled to see the hate on their faces. But he didn’t have time just then to sort it out.

In the middle of the second reading, two more men came in and took their places with the others. The congregation was beginning to stir both at the unusual procession and the lack of respect paid to the altar.

Continue reading “Fiction: Critical Mass”