tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post3397104174165273177..comments2024-03-29T07:29:32.276-04:00Comments on Janet Reid, Literary Agent: Writing contest! The Long Ride Home!Janet Reidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615380335938685231noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-64564587650742076612015-04-12T09:58:18.058-04:002015-04-12T09:58:18.058-04:00"Howdy, ma'am," he said in perfect h..."Howdy, ma'am," he said in perfect hayseed. He had that whole farmer-in-the-dell look going on, what with the overalls and straw hat.<br /><br />"Let me show you where to bring the dining suite," I said, ushering him into my home.<br /><br />He glanced around, presumably gauging dimensions. "Huh," he said, wiping his horsey face with a bandanna. "Never seen a chaise longue in a dining room before." He pronounced it "shayze lounge."<br /><br />"It's 'shez long,' I said. I take pride in educating others.<br /><br />"Smart lady." He nodded toward the wall. "So you know that Ver Meer is a fake?"<br /><br />I stared.Pharosianhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11014081280833695697noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-83082345645934124002015-04-12T09:33:45.429-04:002015-04-12T09:33:45.429-04:00The blizzard was fast approaching. No telling whe...The blizzard was fast approaching. No telling when we'd get into town again.<br /><br />We drove to the back pasture where my beloved Della rested in her horse-sized grave. As we tossed dirt on top of her, I glanced at my husband. He wasn't a bad man, but the thought of spending another long winter together seemed suddenly unbearable. I uttered a plea of forgiveness and sent him into the hole with her.<br /><br />Back home, I cleaned my shovel and honed my cover story. By the time the snow melted, I'd be considered a jilted bride--and he'd be embracing another female, just like I said.Just Janhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12546035917149403735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-19015797316048499302015-04-12T09:10:22.445-04:002015-04-12T09:10:22.445-04:00“What is this? Some kind of witch’s brew or homeop...“What is this? Some kind of witch’s brew or homeopathic medicine?” The man shouted angrily. “You can’t really expect me to believe that toad legs and horsehairs will increase my bride’s longing for me!” He shook his head, picked up his cowboy hat and stomped out of the bordello “Damn women,” he muttered angrily under his breath.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06543895399756737519noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-16453883683293368142015-04-12T08:10:19.168-04:002015-04-12T08:10:19.168-04:00It was over with one shot, and before I knew it, t...It was over with one shot, and before I knew it, the light in my friend’s eyes was gone and we were on our way back to Galveston. Dell was a sick old horse for sure, but he didn't deserve to die like that. So on the long ride home I couldn't even look at Daddy, because I hated him for what he'd done. That was twenty years ago, and I still remember watching Dell gnawing on bits of chaff in his paddock, but the day and the way he died is something I try my best to forget.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09942949693232946364noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-79135631206112956232015-04-12T07:15:19.644-04:002015-04-12T07:15:19.644-04:00The splatter from a recently chewed dell apple int...The splatter from a recently chewed dell apple interferes with the rest of the tissue in the empty cranial well. Blood is everywhere, the signs of a nearly botched operation. All he had was horse tranquilizers, unfounded theories, a wicked laugh, and lost morals. However the surgeon now possesses the thought's of another man, as they pulse and throb silently away. A bitter pill to swallow on the long ride home but no matter, he has another brain storming participant. The apple's core is thorwn into the head. The rest of the body will be given to the pigs for breakfast.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04148789250122629732noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-51390141376900496212015-04-12T07:02:34.380-04:002015-04-12T07:02:34.380-04:00The pain is excruciating. It rides across my ches...The pain is excruciating. It rides across my chest and down my arm, folding me into darkness. The dogs have run headlong into the dell, barking at the distant horses but there is so little time and help is far away.<br /><br />The earth is damp and soft against my cheek, the air scented with bluebells and wild garlic. But for the pain, I think there are worse ways to go and, for the first time in 50 years, I pray.<br /><br />I pray, but not for me. I just ask that the dogs be found a good home, together.<br />Kate Outhwaitehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12294866010972517265noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-19455069240356876342015-04-12T06:44:55.128-04:002015-04-12T06:44:55.128-04:00She scrambles into the mill loft. The horse should...She scrambles into the mill loft. The horse should be clear by now, she thinks. The children safe.<br /><br />The loft is crammed with grain. No weapon. No escape. She shoves the barrels and they fall longwise like dominoes – flour explodes into air, denser than fog.<br /><br />“It’s simple Della,” he emerges in the iridescence. “Sign over the homestead, you live.”<br /><br />“No. I won’t.” And neither will you.<br /><br />He raises the gun. A white apparition with a red, lying mouth.<br /><br />He is already a ghost.<br /><br />Flint to frizzen. A single spark. The glutted air ignites.<br /><br />The explosion rages across the prairie.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14579884957931782780noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-32031538129436277982015-04-12T05:37:34.885-04:002015-04-12T05:37:34.885-04:00Dell, the intensive care nurse notorious for her s...Dell, the intensive care nurse notorious for her soft touch, repositioned Sadie's broken limbs and hours-old fused spine among the pillows on her hospital bed. <br /><br />Sadie gritted her teeth, and whispered, "I want home. My horse." Pain assaulted her, halting every movement, every breath. She stifled screams.<br /><br />Dell wiped tears from Sadie's cheeks. "A few more days. Rest now."<br /><br />Sadie gave in to the morphine and let darkness take over. She would learn soon enough. A long, fierce battle between her body, mind and spirit awaited her if she wanted to walk again, let alone ride another horse.Kandicehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10848232351307953759noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-70365210915428216012015-04-12T04:39:33.541-04:002015-04-12T04:39:33.541-04:00"Come on, Dell. Mom told us not to horse arou..."Come on, Dell. Mom told us not to horse around."<br /><br />He laughs at me. He always does.<br /><br />"Whattsa matter--chicken?" Dell says, as he mashes his right foot down and then his left, pedaling his bicycle madly towards the narrowest point of the canyon.<br /><br />I close my eyes and plug my ears, until I can't anymore.<br /><br />I peek over the edge and see Dell's twisted body at rest on a bed of eucalyptus leaves. I swing my leg over my bike seat and get moving. It's going to be a long ride home.Gypmarhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10023108950501721303noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-64221010761956007732015-04-12T02:56:18.536-04:002015-04-12T02:56:18.536-04:00In a technicolor dell, I saw a white horse with wi...In a technicolor dell, I saw a white horse with wings. I got on top of him and coaxed, "Giddyap," and we flew across low yellow meadows and open dusty brown roads and clear orange plains and rich leafy green forests. <br /><br />And after that long ride, we reached my pretty little dotty home by a quiet shiny blue lake. The door was open.<br /><br />Then, I abruptly awakened and remembered I was locked in a black and white death row. I was so angry I could kill. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-84157553134330435882015-04-12T02:21:57.351-04:002015-04-12T02:21:57.351-04:00It wasn’t a difficult decision and he didn’t take ...It wasn’t a difficult decision and he didn’t take long to make it. Lieutenant Bromhead slid off his horse and saluted. Lieutenant Chard was in command and the four thousand Zulus coming their way were his concern. Never mind the Zulus were coming to kill them. Never mind they had but fifty defenders. And never mind it was an eight hour ride to Helpmakaar where the rest of their battalion was stationed. The Zulus would arrive in minutes, and once they rose from the dell they’d be full in view. Bromhead sighed. It was a long way home to England.Mr. Dhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00985588093120617926noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-40233258740388373442015-04-12T00:15:09.839-04:002015-04-12T00:15:09.839-04:00The day had barely begun and her clothes were alre...The day had barely begun and her clothes were already coated in black. She had hoped they would have been able to catch a ride out here, but no one came anymore. She sighed and brushed off the fragments of burnt wood and soot as best she could before standing. Her eyes turned down to the little girl as she played quietly nearby with her worn out plastic horse.<br /><br />“Come on, Beth. It’s time to go home,” she said, waiting for the tiny hand to slip into hers.<br /><br />“Wait, I didn’t hear dells,” came the sweet voice.<br /><br />“Bells, sweetie. Buh-bells,” she replied, stealing a glance behind her, but turning quickly to smile down at the beaming blue eyes. “They aren’t going to ring anymore, remember?”<br /><br />“They always ring when we come. Always.” <br />AEhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10768571834357973576noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-6635280521062845192015-04-12T00:10:05.332-04:002015-04-12T00:10:05.332-04:00A family of dark bay horses birthed a gray-haired ...A family of dark bay horses birthed a gray-haired colt. Despite his difference, he was his mother’s foal. His brothers and sisters lashed out. He attracted predators to their wooded dell. Mom shoved him. “You endanger us. Ride away!” She towered.<br /><br />He galloped. Between every pine, animals spat and nipped his flank. Villains smelled his adrenaline.<br /><br />He stumbled beside a human. She fed him an apple that spilled juice down his chin. She caressed his bitten coat. “Come home with me.” His head lifted. At long last, he heartened. Somebody wanted him. He was happy.Drew Taylorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15636817519658307991noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-32779455945340849362015-04-12T00:02:18.305-04:002015-04-12T00:02:18.305-04:00Kerse tied his horse to a tree rising crookedly in...Kerse tied his <b>horse</b> to a tree rising crookedly in the <b>dell</b>. It had been a <b>long ride</b>, yet the sun had barely lifted the blushing veil of dew. He collected several lovely orange fruits from among the tree's oval leaves, turning each between his fingers with a contemplative air before placing it in his small sack. From the seeds of these fruits he would brew a special tea for his true love, a man who had proven false. It would be a bitter <b>home</b>coming, for this would be a tea not divine but strychnine.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13114148691018908436noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-83980674940246474692015-04-11T23:59:59.743-04:002015-04-11T23:59:59.743-04:00“He’s been gone a long time.” She held her handker...“He’s been gone a long time.” She held her handkerchief. “I think he’s met someone else. I heard he was seen in the woods with a girl.”<br />“Don’t think about that. You’re better off without him.”<br />She stood up. “Maybe he needs a ride back. I should go get him.”<br />“I wouldn’t bother if I were you.”<br />“Why?”<br />“He’s not coming home. He doesn’t love you.”<br />She glared at me. “Screw you and the horse you rode in on.”<br />“That’s just the thing,” I said. “He did. I was the girl in the dell.”Nadinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14457340386682051325noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-37638143702700480062015-04-11T23:23:40.713-04:002015-04-11T23:23:40.713-04:00I looked across the Dell where I had called home. ...I looked across the Dell where I had called home. The place was nothing more than cinders. I spurred my horse, River, but he needed no encouragement. He knew the way. He has always known the way. When my father followed these men out west after they killed my sister, he followed. When my mother followed these men out west after they killed my father, he followed. Now that my mother is dead, I know, he knows where to go. It’s going to be a long, hard ride. But we’ve been preparing for it since the day I was born.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09509280025531154509noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-34449694394142185022015-04-11T22:24:43.194-04:002015-04-11T22:24:43.194-04:00They say loss shapes you. Well it sure as shit did...They say loss shapes you. Well it sure as shit didn’t shape me; I ain’t got no shape, not anymore. It’s the rest of the world in the wrong mould, missing a piece so nothing fits right.<br /><br />See her in homely girls and pretty ones, hell, in shadows of violins, horses along the horizon. The holes she left. <br /><br />Adelle’s the wrong shape too – grasping, ugly in her desperation. She doesn’t get it. I ain’t trying to heal. I’m searching. Searching for the override switch, the one that’ll reset it all. Hope I find it soon, though. It’s starting to hurt.Sam Hawkehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05549251130820223139noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-71095036206956800472015-04-11T21:52:48.252-04:002015-04-11T21:52:48.252-04:00If wishes were horses I would not have been half a...If wishes were horses I would not have been half a world away. Garuda tried her best. The big silver bird loved her too but the ride was too long to be less than half a day even with a ballistic trajectory. <br /><br />All that was left was yellow crime scene tape and a blood stain. Home was just a house now. The world compressed down into a dell. Even though we had a wet winter it was dry. I didn’t even have a river to skate away on.Craig Fhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07157301156577795781noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-47997159593544298062015-04-11T21:52:32.032-04:002015-04-11T21:52:32.032-04:00Trotting by on his horse, looking irresistibly han...Trotting by on his horse, looking irresistibly handsome, he asked if I’d like a ride. How could I say no, I’d dreamt and fantasized this exact moment. The new jeans I wore, fitting like a second skin, had been bought with him in mind, and subtly, I modelled them for him, leaning over, tucking the cuffs into my boots. When we reached the barn he dismounted, then grabbing my elbow he helped me off the gelding, sliding me down against his body. Our eyes locked, and he kissed me; a long, loving, sensuous kiss. I felt like I was home.Gingermollymarilynhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15684318210445109786noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-14919917845822945402015-04-11T21:50:30.533-04:002015-04-11T21:50:30.533-04:00Heat scorches his neck, and he mops at it with a s...Heat scorches his neck, and he mops at it with a sweat soaked bandanna. It was a hard ride to Dell’s Hollow, and he longs for a warm meal, hot bath, and comfortable bed. His mouth waters as he imagines the fixings Anna would’ve had waiting for him at home. <br /><br />He spurs on his horse, not wanting to be anywhere around when the sheriff returns. As he tops the hill, he takes one last look at the town. The flames of Dell’s Hollow reach their fiery fingers toward the sky. Anna can finally rest in peace.<br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17048100608679094321noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-35181046206116500232015-04-11T20:51:43.613-04:002015-04-11T20:51:43.613-04:00It had been a long day. Paul felt like talking any...It had been a long day. Paul felt like talking anyway.<br /><br />"Cordelle sure worked you over today," he said to Violet, buckled in the back seat, eyes closed.<br /><br />"The first time she threw you, I wondered if you'd get back on that stupid horse. The second time..." He took a deep breath. "I called home. Mom's meeting us there, OK?"<br /><br />Violet didn't answer. And she never would. Paul didn't <i>need</i> to talk to his daughter. But pretending that his 15-year-old "baby" would wake up again was all that kept him between the lines on the long ride to the hospital. Michael Seesehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03694187657718931214noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-42440932684305714092015-04-11T20:30:12.589-04:002015-04-11T20:30:12.589-04:00I was his bride. Pledged heart, body and soul. All...I was his b<b>ride</b>. Pledged heart, body and soul. All that I had. <br />But he <b>long</b>ed for another. That <b>home</b>wrecking hag.<br /><br />She moaned. He grunted. They mated like a <b>horse</b>.<br />As he slammed into her without an ounce of remorse.<br /><br />Tears stained my cheeks when she saddled him astride.<br />I watched from a distance as he enjoyed the joyride.<br /><br />I saw his face. The happiness and lust.<br />I don’t remember what happened. It was all just too much. <br /><br />I guess I pulled the trigger and threw them in the <b>dell</b>.<br />As I prayed beyond anything, I’d see them in hell.Nicole Paynehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02862206960198749686noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-54464947426391284132015-04-11T20:26:49.979-04:002015-04-11T20:26:49.979-04:00Bride-to-be Ursula Langston Cordially Requests You...Bride-to-be Ursula Langston Cordially Requests Your Presence.<br /><br />Hand-delivered on linen paper. Name rings a bell but I can’t place her. Former co-worker? Googled address. Beverly Hills. “No gifts, please.” Classy. <br /><br />I’m here. Gorgeous home. Which one’s Ursula? Face is familiar. Mannequin smile. But from where? <br />Headlong dash to buffet table. Mortadella and provolone pinwheels. Mouth stings of horseradish. Deathly allergic. Spit it out. Throat swelling. Mouths move as I stumble. <br /><br />Remember now? Tenth grade. Ursula’s sister, Becca. Suicide. You tormented her. All of us.<br /><br />I’ll tell them sorry. Beg their forgiveness. If I can just make it. to. the. door.Calorie Bombshellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18039655088542854847noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-37717038355370934442015-04-11T19:52:44.332-04:002015-04-11T19:52:44.332-04:00His face looks like it’s been modelled from clay b...His face looks like it’s been modelled from clay by a child in pottery class, and not a particularly gifted one at that. With a nose like a journeyman boxer, and teeth that put a racehorse to shame, he reminds me of a Picasso painting – a far cry from the spurious dating profile mugshot. <br /><br />I turn away before he sees me. I hide my face and walk past the bar. Take the coward’s way out, and call a cab. <br /><br />It’ll be a long, lonely ride home, but infinitely preferable to a night of forced laughter and fake smiles.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17606757628530456754noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-51764900228147134162015-04-11T19:43:56.494-04:002015-04-11T19:43:56.494-04:00The bride threw up in her hands.
"It was a h...The bride threw up in her hands.<br /><br />"It was a horse pill," the bride's mother whispered to an aunt.<br /><br />"I can marry whomever I choose," she spat, wiping puke from her lips.<br /><br />Not true. They'd found her yodelling in an alley the night before, drunk as a skunk. The pill had sobered her but made her sick.<br /><br />"You belong with me," the groom said. He was a ratty little man in a monkey suit. He was also the only one who knew her sister's whereabouts.<br /><br />"Shall we begin?" said the priest.<br /><br />The bride swallowed her bile. She took his hand.<br /><br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02927341320624880126noreply@blogger.com