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Marcia H.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2020

Stories (138)

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160 Followers

52 Following

138 Stories

2022 karma pts

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Kate's Song

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #138

They say there is nothing like a woman scorned. This woman was well beyond scorned. Kate waited outside of a ugly dull brown apartment building in her car. She had turned off the motor and was in disguise somewhat. She had on a blonde wig that looked like it was ready for Halloween and some dark sunglasses. She hoped that nobody she knew would notice her or recognize her, especially her soon to be ex-husband, Don, if she was right. She sat there for about an hour just waiting. People came and went in and out of the building. She saw little k...

8 likes

The Night Rhythm

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #137

Some things  that  go bump in the night aren’t always a  bad thing.  I learned that the day I moved into my house two years ago. The winding staircase in the middle of the living room was always my favorite place to sit and think and wait. I sat there on this cold December day  three days before Christmas and thought of all the things that I needed to do. I would like to think that I had gotten used to death but I would be lying to myself. Death is something that I will never get used to. And the aftermath of Gram-Gr...

10 likes

When Doves Try

Marcia H.

Submitted to Contest #136

My husband, Sinclair, looked like a black lumberjack. He bounced into our room and took out my yellow suitcase and dragged it across the hardwood floor leaving stuff marks along the way. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched him piling his clothes inside. I knew that he was going to ask me if I wanted to go to the convention with him and he knew that my answer was going to be the same as it had been the ten hundred other times he had asked.  “Do you want to go with me to the convention?” He asked me to fold his white tee shirt and...

9 likes

Disappearing In Plain Sight

Marcia H.

Calla couldn’t believe what she was seeing out of her telescope. This couldn’t be right. She gasped and looked again. But, it was right. Right across from her building she saw a man tied up in a house gagged and blindfolded. He was alone in the room. The only furniture in the room was the chair he was tied up on and a small lamp on the floor.  There were open green curtains on the one window in the room. The man's hair was dripping wet and so was his face. He was wearing some old torn jeans and a very wet white tee shirt. Calla didn’t k...

1 like

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