Drama in a Small Town: Another Short Story DANCE

Drama in a Small Town: Another Short Story DANCE: Short stories are fun to write. It's a challenge to complete one in under three-hundred and fifty words. Enjoy.  DANCE       315   ...

Another Short Story DANCE

Short stories are fun to write. It's a challenge to complete one in under three-hundred and fifty words. Enjoy. 

DANCE       315                                                                                J. Brennan

Chet Mason took extra care shaving and changed his tie twice. Satisfied, he peered at his image in the mirror, sighed deeply.

“Marsha, there’s no point in dancing around this. I’ve found someone else and I’m leaving you.” He threw his suitcases on the bed. “I’m going to Chicago on a business trip. I’ll come for the rest of my things when I return Friday evening.

Marsha’s mouth flew open.

Chet held up his hand. “Let’s not have a nasty discussion about this. I’ve made up my mind.”

She stood back as Chet carefully folded and packed his clothes, grabbed his luggage, and went out the door. Shocked, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Then anger took over. She went to the kitchen, poured herself a good stiff drink, and then a second. “Chet, ole boy, you haven’t begun to dance.”

It was Tuesday morning. Marsha had four days to plan. First, she arranged to take the rest of the week off work and then phoned a divorce lawyer. She made calls to the utilities and newspaper to discontinue services Friday morning and finally contacted a realtor to find another place to live. On her way to get packing boxes, she withdrew all the money from their joint accounts and dropped Chet’s golf clubs, tools and stereo equipment at Super Pawn.

Wednesday, between packing, she went with a realtor to look at condos. She found one within walking distance of her work and arranged to rent it until the deal closed.

Thursday, the movers come to load and transport her belongings. Early Friday morning, she went back to the house to box up the rest of Chet’s things.

She marked all the boxes before she sealed them. Because it was summer, she carefully put a partially opened tin of sardines in the middle of each one marked winter clothes.

Let Chet dance until he found the source of the odor.

                            

      My good friend Morrie Greenberg submitted this short story for my blog. Enjoy, Joyce                                 

                                             

  Frankie and Johnny  592 words

                                      Copyright 2015 By Morrie Greenberg                      

          “Yeah, I shot him.  He was my man and --“

          “I now, I know, —you said it ten times already--he done you wrong.”  Defense attorney Ken Wilkins let out a deep sigh He sat on one side of the desk the jail provided attorneys; his new client sat slouched on the other side.

          “Frankie, just tell me what happened.”
          “He tol’ me he’d be true…” 

           Frankie, still slouched in her chair, poured out her story.           

          “He said he was just goin’ out for a beer….I  looked over the transom…saw him, heard him squealing with that woman… got out the forty-four I had under my slip. Shot him three times.   He was my man---“

          .”I know Frankie, I know, but he done you wrong.  Listen, that story---it ain’t gonna fly.

          Forget it.  Suppose you had a gun to protect yourself from all the bums.  Suppose you thought Johnnie was in trouble.  Suppose you rushed in to protect him.  You’d never used a gun before and you accidentally squeezed the trigger.  It was—an accident”.

          Frankie let loose with a soft, long “Oooohhh.”

          Oh my God, he thought, I think she’s got it.

          Over the next few weeks, Wilkins came to the jail almost every day and questioned Frankie as though she were on the witness stand.  In short time she was spouting out the story very much as he had suggested.  Now he felt they had a good shot at manslaughter or second degree.

           No one who was there that warm spring day in 1908 would ever forget it   ‘

          “Your honor, the defense calls as its first and only witness Frankie.”

          A buzz traveled across the courtroom.  Frankie, clad in a tight fitting print dress slithered out of her seat.  Once seated Frankie feigned pulling down her dress.

          Wilkins walked toward her, dismayed at the dress she wore that highlighted her curvy figure.

          “Can you tell us what happened on the  afternoon of February eighteenth?”

          “Well, when Johnny did not come back, I went looking for him at Joe’s saloon and—“

          Good.  Wilkins thought: that is just the way they had rehearsed it.

          Then Frankie paused in mid-sentence.

          “Yes, go on.”

          “And so, I, I, I…”

          Why is she stammering?  She said it just right yesterday.

          A sudden fire blazed in Frankie’s eyes. Her face reddened as she swiveled on the witness chair to face the jury.  The movement lifted her dress above her knees, but this time she made no effort to pull it down.   
          “Me and Johnny, we were sweethearts”

          She waved a hand toward her lawyer to keep him from interrupting.   Wilkins felt the blood drain from his face.

          Frankie’s eyes drifted from one man on the jury to another as she seemed to sing-song her story.

          “Lordy how we could love

          Swore to be true to each other

          Yeah, true to the skies above

          He was my man, but he done me wrong.”

          As Frankie rambled on, Wilkins glanced at the men on the jury.  Their eyes glistened.  A few had tears.

          The prosecution had no cross examination.  As Frankie stepped down she offered Wilkins a quick wink. 

          The jury was dismissed to deliberate.  Thirty minutes later the jury returned.  A nervous Wilkins stood next to a relaxed Frankie as the verdict was announced..

          “Your Honor, we find the defendant not guilty.”

          Before they parted Frankie hugged Wilkins and whispered in his ear, “…he done me wrong.”  Wilkins only listened.  This time, he thought, she was certainly entitled to the last word.  

Drama in a Small Town: TURNING YOUR SHORT STORIES INTO NOVELS

Drama in a Small Town: TURNING YOUR SHORT STORIES INTO NOVELS: I love to write short stories, and try to create one every month. Once in a while, someone will mention that they want to read what happen...

TURNING YOUR SHORT STORIES INTO NOVELS

I love to write short stories, and try to create one every month. Once in a while, someone will mention that they want to read what happens next.

Years ago I wrote a story about four single women meeting every Wednesday night for dinner to discussing their work, their love life, and the challenges of meeting someone new in a small town.

My critique partner agreed it was good, but what happened? Did the women connect with a mate? Were their careers going nowhere? Where was the conflict,confrontation, and the happy ending?

 With that in mind, I created a fictional town named Rexford, Ohio. Then I separated the characters and wrote a novel on each woman.

Thus, the first of the series, which is also a stand alone story, I named OLIVIA.

I loved writing about this former New York advertising executive who returned to her home town to tend an ailing Aunt and to take over the family newspaper. 

Olivia faced challenges both from downsizing her life, and attempting to live in the confines of small town rumors and innuendos. 

Her honest, straight-forward editorials clash with a local judge who runs the town of Rexford. 

When Olivia falls in love with a local General Practitioner, who the Judge's daughter has claimed for her own, the walls come tumbling down.

I've created blackmail, attempted murder, and of course, romance in this Romantic Suspense Novel.

Watch for the twists and turns. I hope I've surprised the readers and Olivia will be the page-turner I hoped for.

OLIVIA, by Joyce Brennan is now available on Amazon.com, Smashwords and from my publisher, "Tirgearr Publishing"

Download it now and write a review.

 http://www.amazon.com/Olivia-Women-Rexford-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00U47E6DG

Joyce Brennan  

DON’T SELL YOURSELF SHORT

It’s not productive to dwell on you weak points. As a writer, you can polish your skills with a few helpful hints.
If dialogue is your weak suit, study your favorite author’s novels and see how they handle it. Activate text to talk on your computer and have your dialogue read back to you. If you want more information on 'how too,' post a comment on my fan page. https://www.facebook.com/joycewritesromance/
Does your dialogue sound stilted, or is it how you want your characters to speak? Don’t get carried away with dialogue tags. I cringe when I read: He said nervously or she said nastily. You just told the reader the emotion you want to relay. Instead, show them.
How was your male character nervous? Did he tap his fingers when he spoke? Did he tug at his necktie or shirt collar? Raise up on his toes? How about your nasty female character? Did she glare? Cut off the speaker in mid-sentence? Raise her chin? Your reader will get the message by showing instead of telling.
Break up you narrative with dialogue and break up you dialogue with narrative. Sounds simple, doesn’t it?
Fiction readers like to see white space, otherwise it’s like reading a manual.
Keep your story moving. Cut out the scenes that slow down the plot. Sprinkle back-story throughout your novel, don’t subject your reader to pages of past history.

Lastly, end each chapter with a hook. A sentence that says, read on. 

"Then the phone rang." Hopefully the reader will want to read the next chapter to see who is calling. 

"She settled into bed when she heard the doorknob rattle." Is it the wind, a burglar or the cat jumping on the door? etc, 
I hope this proves helpful.
My latest eBook, MISPLACED, by Joyce Brennan is available on Amazon.com. Discover what happens to Gilda Scarlotta after she witnesses her parents murder by a mob hit-man.
It's romance, adventure all set in middle America.

THE HIDDEN JOURNAL

In the heart of Kentucky, Jenna Mitchell finds a home, embarks upon a new career and becomes engaged to the handsome Drew Kelsey. Wedding plans are in the works when Jenna discovers an old journal in an antique desk that discredits the Kelsey name along with many other citizens of Crestridge. Will she be able to overcome the disgrace she’s caused and win back her fiancé?

THE HIDDEN JOURNAL, by Joyce Brennan is available on Amazon.com/ Read the reviews and the first two chapters. http://www.amazon.com/The-Hidden-Journal-Joyce-Brennan-ebook/dp/B00HRGMZ8U