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Marcia H.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020

Stories (134)

Comments

Library

159 Followers

50 Following

134 Stories

2015 karma pts

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Wouldn't Take Nothing For My Journey

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #132

Are you there God? It's me, Hortece. It’s been a while since we have actually had a sit down conversation. You know I rarely go to church anymore and my grandma, Nana, is probably rolling in her grave on that one. She took us to church, me and my sister every Sunday that she could and sometimes even my bad cousins who couldn’t keep still to save their necks. She was always pinching one of them to sit still and of course they wouldn’t. Their mother blamed it on the fact that they were boys but we knew better. Them being boys had nothing to do...

13 likes

Dynamite Touch

Marcia H.

The phone rang, waking up Iris from a sound sleep and a nice dream. She knew it could only be one person at that hour of the morning. She glanced at the cell phone near her bed on her nightstand and it was 3 am and the caller ID said “Willie Calling.” Willie was Iris’s younger brother and the troublemaker of the family. He was the youngest of 8 kids and the shortest and the one with the infuriating personality. He never kept a job longer than a year and he drove cream-colored station wagons riddled with roaches at times.&nb...

2 likes

The Vacation Before The End

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #129

Rosa stood with her back straight and eyes forward behind the old brown wooden desk at the inn she owned and ran. She kept her eyes glued to the glass doors at the entrance. Her small frame wouldn’t move until she saw her much anticipated guest. Rosa had been waiting for this moment all year long. Her best friend, Elosie would come once a year to visit her. They would laugh, sip coffee by the fireplace, and eat good home cooked meals that Rosa would prepare in the inn’s kitchen after the staff was dismissed for the day. They would gigg...

14 likes

Teacup of The Hearts

Marcia H.

A small mahogany table with sturdy legs sat in Lucy’s kitchen. Sitting on the top of it was the perfect setting for a tea party for two. Lucy, a small, petite woman with black hair that could rival the color of darkest night, stood at the stove in her old blue bathrobe with the tear at the sleeve. She couldn’t bear to part with the robe which her beloved husband, Oliver, had given her on their 56th anniversary. That was the last gift he gave her. She wore it every morning while she made her cup of morning tea. This was the part of her day ...

3 likes

A Blessing A Curse and a Plane

Marcia H.

The sting of the Mango Habanero sauce from the chicken wings Altenda just demolished in twenty minutes flat was still evident in her mouth. She poured herself a glass of chilled Pinot Noir wine. As she sipped it and looked around her apartment, the Jacob Lawerence, Kara Walker and Alma Thomas paintings which adorned her walls she felt blessed. She would not have acquired these things if it hadn’t been for her job. She could barely call it a job. She sat at home answering the phone from people wanting to know when they...

1 like

Duolingo

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #126

Oliver sat in wait. His head turned in the direction it should be. His body laid low to the ground and he barely breathed. He was waiting. His New Year’s Resolution was to finally get that pesky mouse that had run control of the house for the whole year. Oliver felt that he was not doing his mousley duty letting that mouse run past him every night and not catching him for his humans. He longed for the day he could put that old gray mouse at the feet of his humans and sit there and purr in happiness and accomplishment. That was his goal. Oliv...

8 likes

The Last Dance

Marcia H.

Someone told me a long time ago that you don’t live life that life lives you and you are the dancer of your own life. Some people dance fast, some slow, some not at all and some come to the dance late. I have always come to the dance late, the dance of life and all the dances in between. I was even born late so my mama told me. That was the first dance I was late to. And there were many, many, many more. It was 1979 and I was a freshman in high school. I had no idea what high school would be like and wasn’t sure if I was even going t...

1 like

Embracing My Ghost

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #124

My mom laid there on the hideous hospital bed that had taken up space in the living room for the past two months. She hated that bed. If she could have talked she probably would have said that it was the most uncomfortable bed in the world. Her head was propped up on two pillows, one over sized and one undersized. Her comforter was covering her now tiny body which was always cold. She laid there eyes open and looked up to the heavens. My mom was dying physically. She was no longer going to be here after that cool November day, the week befor...

7 likes

Mom's Last Thank You

Marcia H.

I was always brought up to say please and thank you as a form of being polite, having manners. Did I always mean the many times I said please, thank you, your welcome, bless you or any of the numerous polite sayings I was taught, not always. I went along as a child saying thank you when someone gave me something whether I wanted it or not. Once one of my grandmother’s gave me a clam. I knew that I would not like the taste of it because I could not stand the stench of it and the smell alone almost made me sick. But, I had to say thank you and...

1 like

The End of the Day

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #119

All of her life Mrs. Fletcher had an almost pathological fear of missing the train to work. She had worked in the same office doing the same thing for over 20 years. She could not be late today of all days, her final day. Each day before work she would wake up four hours early and get out of bed and summon the butler, Charles, who would in turn summon the cook, Julie, who would rush into the kitchen to cook Mrs. Fletcher’s breakfast. Each morning was the same breakfast. Julie would cook two eggs over easy, cut up exactly two and a half...

12 likes

The Voiceless Song Bird

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #118

The old weathered bench in the backyard of my grandmother had been there as long as I can remember. I remember playing hide and seek with my sister and cousins with me hiding under the bench curled up in a ball thinking I had become invisible and nobody could see me. I imagine that is the feeling that my mom feels now, invisible. I sat down on the bench and gazed up at the tall plum tree that was right in front of the bench. My grandmother hated that tree. She hated it mostly because the plums would fall on the ground and we would trample ov...

9 likes

Seraph Vs. Diabolus

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #117

He felt it raging throughout his body. He knew that he was going to have to fight again. Fight for the one thing that he treasured more than anything his soul. He knew that he was coming again. He comes every year and only once a year. He glanced at the calendar and the date was circled in red marker. He knew that he had to get ready for war which would rage inside of him. People called him many names. He was known as the Prince of darkness, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles, Iblis, the angel of death or most commonly known...

5 likes

Confessions of a Sinner

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #116

The box was small and dark. I hated going in there.I hated the darkness but every Friday I didn’t have a choice. I made it to the front of the line and waited my turn. In my head I was thinking of the things that I was required to say when the door opened to the box and the person before me stepped out. I really didn’t have anything to say but that would not do. You were expected to say something once you entered the box and the door closed. I wiped my wet sweaty hands on my uniform skirt and tugged at the bottom of my sweater. S...

15 likes

Embracing a Ghost

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #115

“Zina?” The voice said on the other end of the phone. “Yes.” There was a long pause. Zina forced her left hand in her coat pocket. The cold blustery winds were whipping widely on that October evening. She walked toward the middle of the block and looked at the four corners. She tried to decide which way to go but it didn’t matter. All the roads led to one thing. “What happened?” Her friend’s voice asked on the phone. “I’ m walking.” Zina responded. “Me too. But you might need to run.” Her friend, Doug responded back. The line...

19 likes

Loving Henry

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #114

Gia was only 15 years old when she looked into the eyes of Cody for the first time. It took less than a minute for her soul to recognize him. Then without saying a word he turned and walked away from her. The sharp sting her heart felt never went away although he did. One day he just didn’t come to school. Someone told her that he had moved away suddenly. She regretted not speaking to him. Gia married Henry Jackson Broussard in the summer after she graduated from college. She had plans to become a teacher but her plans changed ...

10 likes