Here is my text for Saturday Centus Week 51, using the picture promt above.
(Mrs. Matlock's intstructions are to be found after my text.)
[Hey folks! I've written a "Part Two" to this story! Just keep scrolling after you read this first part until you come to PART TWO!
Only recently had she stopped wearing her wedding rings. The divorce was finalized. She wasn't married anymore. And since the children were staying with their father until Monday, she actually could concievably have gone out on a date; that is, if she had known someone; but there was no one around.
Feeling tired after doing chores all morning, Sanna decided to rest before taking a walk. It was a beautiful spring day. It would be nice to look at some of the neighbours' gardens, she thought, as she lay on top of the bed and fell asleep as her head touched the pillow.
The little alarmclock in her cellphone announced that it was time to get up. Literally. It was a recorded voice! Refreshed, Sanna took a light jacket, a shoulder-bag and went out. But instead of walking towards the residential gardens, she went in the opposite direction beyond the tatoo-parlour and discovered a door that she she had not seen before. There was a sign with a symbol of a rabbit on it .
"Harvey's Place. Ladies welcome after eight o'clock P.M." it said. Sanna looked at her watch. It was eight o'clock now. She pushed the door gently and stepped into a large dark room with only small lamps on tables. A youngish man with a dark mustache greeted her and seated her at a table. He was dressed in a royal blue bunny-costume that was open in the front and bared his hairy chest. He had long rabbit ears and wore a silver medalon in the shape of the same rabbit that was on the sign. He handed her a menu and waited for her order.
"Some sparkling water would be fine," she replied trying to sound as if all of this was as natural as any trip to the grocery store. She looked around her and saw other ladies being seated at the other tables. They were all sitting alone. "What is this place?" she asked the blue-velvet-clad bunny-waiter as he was turning to leave her.
"Welcome to Harvey's" He said smiling while he disappeared behind a curtain.
Wordcount according to WordCalc: 382
Sorry folks. I just can cut into this story. I am usually very good about getting it down to 98 or 99 words, but I justcan't do it this time. I'm not perfect!
Welcome to week fifty-one of Saturday Centus.
After the stress I caused you for week 50, I decided to be gentle and sweet this week...in honor of Springtime and just because I'm afraid you have forgotten I have a softer, gentler side.
This week we are going to write from a lovely picture prompt.
As usual, please display link button or just a hyper-link back to Saturday Centus. Be careful to link your SC URL to the Linky and not just link to your main blog. Keep your post PG AND no more than 100 words.
With no further ado, here is your picture prompt.
It was the frustrated writer or journalist in her that made Sanna rise and go over to the nearest table. "Why are you here?" she inquired.
"My husband died in the war,"replied the woman a with long blond hair with bangs, trying to smile and not dampen the party-mood.
Sanna went over to yet another woman with short dark hair, big brown eyes and Christmas red lipstick on her lips. "And why are you here? Did your husband also did in the war?"
"Oh no, it was my brother who died in the war. My husband went fishing and drowned in a boating accident," was her reply.
"No it was my son who was killed in the war. Then my husband had a heart attack, " replied yet another woman.
"My husband left me for a younger woman and then drove his car off a cliff into a lake," was yet another explanation.
Not only the frustrated journalist, but even the amateur-sleuth in Sanna had been stirred. She asked several more of the ladies why they were at this strange bunny-club. They all seemed to be widows or were left behind by their sons, husbands or lovers. But why so many war-widows? This is Sweden; like Switzerland, it had been a neutral country while the rest of the world was at war. For years and years!
It dawned on her that she should have asked which war they had died in. Now Sanna became the frustrated school-teacher and let the ladies answer her short questions by raising a hand first. "Yes, you there. Which war was it? Afganistan? Irak?"
"No, he pershed in the jungles of Vietnam," was the reply. "But how can that be? Sanna thought, "She looks so young." Pointing to different uppraised hands she heard increasingly more amazing replies: The Korean Conflict, the Second World War, the Great War to End All Wars, the War Between the States, the Civil War (which civil war?), the Winter War, the Russian Revolution, the Crimean war, the Thirty-Years War and the Hundred-Years-War. She peeled her eyes in the gloom to really get a good look at the women who claimed that their husbands had fallen in wars that had taken place so long ago. They all looked to be about her age; sort of "youngish".
It was then that the blue velvet bunny-men started moving about the room. "What if they have a show and start dancing? Or even worse, start singing?" Sanna decided that it was time to leave Harvey's before the stage-curtains parted.
"Are you leaving so soon?" the first blue bunny-man with the dark mustache asked as Sanna pushed the exit door open and walked out onto the twilight-lit street. It was a beautiful Spring evening. Maybe she should take that walk in the other direction and look at the gardens. But just then her alarmclock "rang "or rather "talked" or "squawked" in a parrot-like robot-voice: "It's four o'clock. It's time to get up. It's four o'clock."
"Four o'clock? Only four o'clock?" Sanna awoke, still lying on top of her bed. She had not been out at all. It was only four in the afternoon. There was still time to look at the gardens!
Outside on the street she walked past the tatoo-parlour to see if the door and the sign were still there. But no, the "Harvey's Place"-sign was gone. The door was not even there. Now it was real life and no longer a dream. She walked the other way toward the residential area with the small gardens where she used to live. Passing a small tobacco and newspaper-shop called "Pomona", she turned went in, and bought a lottery-ticket. The drawing would be next week.
Then Sanna really did look at the progress of scilla, tulips, daffodils and the tiny white bells of the lillies-of-the valley. The birches had tiny pale green leaves, the size of a fingernail. And there were buds on the apple trees.
Please forgive me for not keeping to the 100-word-limit. I promise to not write more that 100 words next time. Thank you for reading this extra text!
Best wishes & hugs,
[The author of this text is Christina Wigren and she owns the copyright.]