Trudy Jas

“Princess Charmer” by Trudy Jas

Princess Charmer (Title from Title Generator)This is (not) a fairy tale.Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far, far away, lived a Princess.Let me pause here for a second and tell you that when we write about Princesses, we must describe them as Beautiful Beyond Belief. It’s in the rules, large print, bold typeface. Everyone in the Fairy Tale Author’s Guild knows about it. Little girls will not sit still or go to sleep without hearing those words. For let’s face it, if Fairy Tale Princesses were meh, that would mean that all those magical th...

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“Reflections” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #293

Reflection.The land hadn’t changed. She had.What she saw from the dirty train window was the same land she had left so many years ago. The train track meandering through the valley, followed the river. On both sides the hills slowly grew taller. Meadows with placidly regurgitating cows, gave way to small vineyards. Ancient villages dominated by churches with tall, slender steeples clung haphazardly to the hillside and larger towns with high rises and factories crowded closer to the tracks.Her eyes glazed over, lost their focus. She didn’t se...

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“Philosophy 101” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #293

Philosophy 101"Are we there yet?"Bobby was bored. He had stared at SpongeBob all morning and there was nothing to see out the window. Just flat land, green grass, blue sky and cows. Big cows that mama said were buffaloes. But she was wrong. Buffaloes had wings. But she just laughed when he pointed that out to her.“Are we there yet?” He whined from the back seat for the umpteenth time. While swinging his legs he could reach the back of mama’s seat. She had asked him not to do it several times. But it felt so good. Thump, thump, thump.“Not yet...

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“Violet Memories” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #292

Violet Memories.Killing me softly. (Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox)In memory of Roberta Flack. (1937 -2025)I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style. And so, I came to see him and listen for a while. And there he was, a young boy. A stranger to my eyes.“Mar, you ought to go.” My colleague said. “He’s good.”I’m always looking to sign someone new and have spent many nights in bars and open-mike clubs. Listening, watching. The world is impatient and easily bored. The public demands something new, they want to see a new face, hear a new...

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“Riding in car with granddaughter” by Trudy Jas

The radio is tuned to a classical station, Mozart. I let the music wash over me like a warm shower. The stunted knotty willows fly by unseen. The shoulder slopes down to the river where barges chug. Riding low, heavy with cargo, going to, or coming from the seaport. Small dogs, like yapping figure heads, share the latest gossip as they pass.The sun disappears, taking the sparkle from the water. More clouds gather; the wind picks up. The music swells and wanes and swells again like an incoming tide, adding to the tension in the car. I slow do...

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“Sweet baby cakes.” by Trudy Jas

Sweet baby cakes. It all started on a dare, like so many other spectacular fiascos or sensational triumphs. “You are such a bigot! How can you summarily dismiss them? What do you have against them? It’s prejudice, is what it is. There! I said it.” My friend Barbara scoffed, rolled her eyes, and leaned back; arms crossed over her ample bosom. But before I could defend myself, she resumed her attack. “I thought better of you. How can you say you are a liberal, openminded, free thinking person if you won’t even look at something as innocent ...

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“The Art of Passion” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #290

The Art of Passion.Pencil sketchesEach day I don’t see you, each day I can’t be sure of your happiness, the sky is bleak and sunless. The air is motionless, without heat or chill. Birds are silent, and squirrels hide. There is no music, no speech, no laughter. The world is grey and distant.On those days I think about you and pray that you think of me too. That you share my thoughts, feel my wishes, and live for the day that you will be with me. Then I lie back and sketch new scenarios of our time together. How we will explore each other. Wha...

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“It's just another day.” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #289

I’m running late. Again. Marjory called early this morning. Could I come in for a few hours?“You know I wouldn’t ask,” she said. “But I have a wedding to do, can you shampoo, please?” Marjory promised to pay me next week.That made me a few minutes late for my shift at Johnny's Market. Carson raised his eyebrows when I ran in. He kept circling around my lane all day. When I turned my drawer in, he claimed I didn’t balance and made me wait while he counted again. He docked me the dollar seventy-six I was short. What could I say? I let Mrs. Phi...

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“Subtropical storm Wendy” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #288

They enjoy planning. Debating where to go for their annual vacation. Agonizing over hotel versus B&B. Studying the map for the best and safest route. Calculating mileage against posted speed limits. Learning which rest stop has a gas station and clean facilities. Researching and rejecting sights, attractions, and possible side trips. All this is as much fun as the trip itself. More, maybe. Months ahead of the trip, they will make lists. Adding items, scratching off others, often adding them to the list again. They will ponder and worry, ...

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“How I found my Poise” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #285

I am about to run out of Poise, both the product and the attitude. So, I slip into my shoes, grab my keys, and make an emergency run to the store. To make the mad dash worth my while I reward myself with a bottle of wine.When I approach the diaper aisle from the dairy section, I see him sneak in from the opposite end. Being curious, I watch him approach, assuming he’ll stop at the small people diapers; he looks young enough. But he keeps walking and passes behind me. So, he is on his way to get milk, I conclude and forget about him till I re...

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“Five against the wind” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #285

Hello, copy desk? What’s your name, kid? --- Phillip, are you ready to take this down?Tuesday, January 30, 1940.Leeuwarden, Friesland, The Netherlands. 23:34.In the early hours, more than 3000 competitors and amateurs anxiously waited in the dark at the starting point of the Elfstedentocht (Eleven city tour). A 199 km skating race over frozen canals, rivers and lakes that connect eleven historical towns in Friesland, one of the two most northern provinces in The Netherlands.Yes, I’ll wait. --- Can I go on?Only when the Elfstedentocht Associa...

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“Slippery when wet.” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #281

Do you remember the first time you saw the ad? You couldn’t look away, could you? You looked at your wife and she too was mesmerized. But she averted her eyes, knowing that it would be too extravagant. Too much to ask for.Then there was the full-page ad in the AARP Bulletin, do you remember that? You put it aside, took note of the local number. Of course, it would be too expensive, you thought. But maybe if you didn’t take that golf outing this year and skipped a few trips to the gambling boats. Surely then…You wife's birthday is coming up, ...

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“Dora the explorer” by Trudy Jas

This one is for Jed. :-)“Are you really going to do this?” Rebecca looks at her with big eyes. “Nobody has ever done it. Are you sure?”“If I want to have my name in books, then yes I need to do something nobody else has ever done. I can’t just repeat climbing the same mountain many other people have climbed. People will say, ‘sure, well done, kid.’ Then they’ll pad me on the head and move on. I’d just be an arm note. One of a few women to have done it.”“Don’t you mean anecdote? And you’d be the youngest. That should count for something, righ...

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“Wicked theft. A cautionary tale.” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #277

A conversation with my computer. Computer voice expertly supplied by Derrick M. Domican. Thank you, Derrick for your time, thoughts and words. Couldn't have done it without you.Here we go, new week, new story. I need characters, and a plot with a beginning, middle and end. Who'll be my main character, what about a side character, point of view. Shall I go with close narrative? First person narrative? Oh, how about second person, always a challenge. But what about the plot, plot, plot, plot.I can help.Sh. I’m thinking. Plot, plot …Theft.Huh?...

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“Rest in peace” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #275

Rest in peace. Warning! Mention of child abuse, rape, miscarriage, and revenge. The fifth step from the top on the main stairs has chewing gum stuck in the left corner as you come down. In the south wing, in front of the second-floor girls’ room, a couple of the tiles are cracked. A section of baseboard, just outside the chem lab, has a mysterious stain with a lingering sulfur odor. Two of the ceiling tiles in the boy’s locker room are broken. A budding Peeping Tom fell through when trying to get to the girl’s showers, where in the last...

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