Thursday, July 26, 2018

Six Sentences Stories - Resort

Clark of Wakefield Doctrine extended the opportunity to me to participate in the multi-POV (point of view) six this week. This has been an interesting challenge of my abilities, or lack there of, but I appreciate is willingness to see what point of view I might give to one of the characters mentioned in his SSS-Resort this week.

Denise of Girlie on the Edge's blog, our host, provides the link to this blog hop each week. Click here to read the posts of others participating this week in the Six Sentence Stories - Resort. Being able to read the variety of stories shared at her site is both a learning experience and just plain enjoyable.



 

Today the tinkling of the small metal wind chimes above the entrance sounded abrasive to her ears as Miz Duquette's last visitor of the day, and in no way she could determine, a friend, headed toward her car.

Cindy reached down under the aged gauze curtain and removed the Open sign resting on the windowsill and called it a day, much earlier than usual, after being unnerved by the question posed by the stranger who had just departed.

Her long black hair, streaked with gray, brushed against the strings of crystal-like beads as she shuffled through the doorway from the Healing Room to her living quarters where she slowly plopped down in her recliner.

There was a time when the Healing Room, just big enough for a couple of comfortable well-used stuffed chairs and a small round knee-high table between them, had been used for business, but now that she lived by herself, and the years were creeping up on her, she decided to give up the business.

The Open sign was only there as an indication to those who passed by that she was up to having friends visit, many of whom had once gleaned her mind at the local botanical garden where she had volunteered as a resident self-taught herbalist.

She had half feared and half welcomed this day, the day of reckoning with that decision she had made in what seemed like another lifetime, before she resorted to move to the outskirts of the small burg of Dunsmuir where she felt she could hide from her indiscretion and impulsive act in Maumee, Ohio and also forget about the dangers that completely shook up her life in Mendocino.

12 comments:

  1. No matter how far or how long you run, the truth will out. Well told!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, the truth comes out eventually!

      Delete
  2. What a good Six/tale/additional POV!

    (the fun of these things (multi-sixes) is in finding something not only not-expected, but vital and engaging for us readers. the coolest aspect is the intimation of (a) story yet to un-fold.)

    As always, you demonstrate the ability to convey much, using less, rather than more.

    (I found myself picturing those...whatever they call the things that over the arms of chairs ... not dollies.... something like that and the rest of the room.)

    And, of course, that is beauty and power of a tale, not simply opening doors, but showing closed doors in a way that makes the Reader want to open them.

    Very excellent duet, Miz Brockett, very excellent.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks.
      I'm not sure that there is a fancy name for those arm rest covers. They do extend the life or condition of the arms.
      Showing closed doors is a good expression for not revealing too much.

      Delete
    2. Yes, Aren't they called antimacassars?

      Delete
  3. Nicely done, Pat! I have a perfect visual of Miz Duquette's shop. And I am not surprised she is a self taught herbalist. Makes sense :)
    What in the world took place in Mendocino?! But the $64k questions is....what happened between her and Sister Catherine. She was "the stranger" that left, was her last visitor, wasn't it??

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Denise.
      As I thought about how Miz Duquette got from Mendocino to Dunsmuir, I wondered about natural disasters. Bingo! Not saying that was the cause, because there were some other things I learned about the area.
      As for the stranger, I'm not certain that the stranger was Sister Catherine. It could be the young man leaving the cafe who said everyone knows Miz Duquette. With him being younger, she may not of have known him. Still a mystery.

      Delete
  4. Like Reagan said, "you can run, but you can't hide..." Also, my brother and I were having the windchime discussion this weekend. I a fan, he's not!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Both my husband like the sound of the bigger bamboo chimes rather than than the metal chimes.

      It is kind of a strange thing how items of conversations, or a word one comes across in reading for the first time, will suddenly appear the same day in some other fashion.

      Delete
  5. Boy, could I picture this place. And can't wait to find out more, there is such an air of mystery.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I can't wait to learn more about this place either. :-)

      Delete
  6. This is descriptive and filled with the consequences of the heaviness of her previous decisions. It leaves me wanting more. Skilled writing, by the way.

    ReplyDelete