Patricia Merewether

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2022

Stories (48)

48 Stories

1175 karma pts

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“I Survived Camping” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #183

My best friend, Carol, and I bet on a coin toss (dumb, I know). If I won, she had to go to a concert with me, any kind, rock, blues, classical. I've invited Carol so many times, and she never goes. Fleetwood Mac was on tour again, and I wanted her to experience it. Of course, I get, "Why does anyone drive for two hours, stand in line, and sit in a place with hundreds or maybe thousands of screaming, sweaty, crazed people? Why?" She'll never get it.If I lost, I had to go camping for a weekend. My response: "Carol, why would anyone hike for mi...

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“Harold and Maude” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #183

I have to tell you how angry and disappointed I am. My dinner was so late that it was dark outside when they returned. They told me they were going out to get me a surprise, so I let the late dinner slide. But then they came home with my surprise, and I just wanted to jump up on that knick-knack shelf and knock every smashy thing onto the floor!The female scratched my head and said, "Harold, this is Maude! You have a new friend!" Another cat! Seriously? Why would they think that was a good idea? Don't they know by now that cats are solitary ...

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“Grave New World” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #182

“With technology tracking us everywhere we go, “cosplay” may be our best defense against surveillance” Annalee NewitzDear Violet, 06/03/2055I hope you are well and happy. I wish I’d emigrated to New Zealand when you did. Americans can’t get asylum anywhere! So I’m in the same little house at the edge of Detroit where you and I grew up. It is much safer in this part of the country. Florida is practically gone and is almost an island. People left Florida in droves, mostly old folks like you and me, and migrated to nearby states, which are unha...

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“Who Is Amanda Jane Riley?” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #181

. Sunlight washed a blaze of color through the stained glass, across the white marble floor, and onto my Ruth Smith's white casket. I now found the many lilies and roses surrounding her cloying and oppressive. As I sat alone with her one last time, I heard echoing footfalls grow louder as they approached. I'd hoped for some quiet time to say goodbye. The footsteps stopped next to me at the end of my pew, and an unfamiliar male voice asked are you "Amanda Jane Riley?"  I did not turn, "Yes," The man handed me a manilla envelope and ...

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“Luck or Lore?” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #180

I sat teetering on a thick phone book, the booster chairs of the fifties at my Grandma's kitchen table while Mom and Grandma sorted through a dusty old hat box. As I drank milk and ate a cookie, Grandma pulled something from the box and placed it in front of me. I was so horrified that I jumped and ended up shooting milk from my nose and spilling the rest up the sleeve of my dress and onto the table. Mom sprang up and saved me from sliding off the phone book. My cookie fell, and Spam, Grandma's dog of many colors, caught it. "What w...

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“A Room of One's Own” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #179

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” ― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own My one and only New Year's resolution was to clear out the guest room and turn it into a space for me. A studio to write, paint, and craft in.  It would also serve as a place to gather my recently-feral wits.  I began early morning on New Year's Day, and it went well at first, as these things usually do. The room is small, 8'x10', with a chest of drawers, a bedside table, a floor lamp, and a wing-backed chair...

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“Unauthorized Celebration” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #178

I'm seated here, with twelve strangers, at a table covered with a faded red cloth, set with antique dishes and cutlery. Three candles flicker constantly, and most of us don't know or remember why. The food is good, made with ancient ingredients that are hard to come by and expensive, so the portions are small. Most of it is too salty or sweet for my tastes, but the recipes must be followed. It all started in 2022, long before my time when religious celebrations were still safe and legal. So, we now call this our 'Winter Gathering' and s...

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“War and Peas” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #177

Warning - war memories of violence I was grateful for my thirty-minute commute because I needed time to decompress from anger, disappointment, sadness, and rage craziness. As it turns out, I needed a longer drive. A neighbor's massive man truck filled my parking spot, and I used my one superpower of parallel parking and squeezed into the spot between his car and my elderly neighbor's. She drives twice weekly, so I know she'd be okay with it. I said a little prayer for her continued longevity. I slammed the car door on my skirt, thus r...

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“A Magical Summer” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #176

They sent me to live with Grandma Violet after my Mom ended up in the psychiatric hospital. She painted our side of the neighbor's house sky blue because she wanted a cheerier view. Then she spent a thousand dollars on art supplies and bought us a first-class one-way ticket to Malaysia. But the last straw fell when she took a dog, who'd been chained to a tree for days. The dog's owner came out, and she gave him an uppercut that Grampa had taught her when she moved into the city. I'm used to her odd choices, but this time she required much mo...

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“Protecting Merchent Mansion” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #175

I've inhabited this house for nearly two hundred years and watched generations of my family take their first breath and their last. I know their secrets. My name is Thomas Merchant, I was the previous corporeal Merchant, and I remain here to protect this house forever.  I wasn't even dead when the first realtor knocked on our door and shoved papers and a business card at me before even saying hello. I told her to go away, but she kept leaving flyers, sending me letters, and calling me at least once a week. She returned again, and I as...

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“NDE and Me” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #175

I still remember that feeling. It was like sledding, but flat on my back. I tried to open my eyes but couldn't. I was so weak that no part of me would move, but I still felt the rolling, little bumps here and there. Excruciating pain raged through every fiber of my body, but I couldn't move or make a sound, not even a groan. Then I heard disjointed voices, "Stat," "rapid pulse, thready," "She's coming round." The rolling stopped. Someone pushed my eyelid open and aimed a blinding light at me. I wanted to close my eye or turn away, but...

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“A Little Older, A Lot Wiser” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #174

It was the worst few years of my life. First, I contracted Lyme disease, which was so excruciating, physically, mentally, and any other way a person can suffer, that I considered suicide more than once. A parade of doctors told me I was delusional and needed a psych evaluation. If I'd heard, "All your labwork is normal," one more time, I might have landed in jail on assault charges. One doctor, who looked about twelve years old, actually twirled her finger next to her head and said, "You know, many times, these things are all in our hea...

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“Mustgo Soup” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #173

 I heard the front screen door whine open, then a BANG shut. "I'm never going back over there!" I heard my niece yell at nobody in particular. "Why did you make me go over there, Auntie?" Sally asked. Sally's parents were a thousand miles away at a conference, and we all agreed that Sally would stay at the farm with me for those two weeks. I hadn't seen Sally since she was five, and I'd forgotten about a fourteen year olds moods and angst. I turned from the sink full of freshly picked green beans to see my usually sweet young niece'...

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“The Blue People” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #172

The Blue People The villagers of Burford, England, shunned Livi and her family. The cruelest folks yelled, "UGLY WAGTAILS or INDI WITCHES!, and threw rotten cabbages at them or pelted them with stones. But to most villagers, they were simply The Blue People and were shunned. The business of making indigo produced a most nauseating stench that clung to their bodies and clothing and followed them wherever. The plants used in the process had to rot before adding them to the dyepot and issued the odor of rotting garbage and death. Mixing and...

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“Missing in the Forest” by Patricia Merewether

Submitted to Contest #171

Missing In The Forest "This is a tale of a time when things are so different, and I must record it in my book of memories." Fawn One sunny spring afternoon, my neighbor Sharron knocked on my door, then stepped into the chaos of our home. Our three children were in school. Two cats slept on the sofa, and Miss Piggy, our rescued little pup, yapped and danced for her. The usual piles of books, magazines, and toys lay sprinkled about the living room. "I wanted to take a walk, Annie, and it's such a beautiful day. We have at least ...

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Author bio

Feel free to contact me at: patsarts@comcast.net