Thursday photo prompt: Colorful Wishes #writephoto

Charlene was delighted with her tree. Everywhere else, when someone had a statement to make, it was always stupid toilet paper. All over the tree and then it would drizzle or rain and for weeks, the tree looked like it had some kind of hideous fungus on it.

She had done a much better job. Bright, colorful. It was a cheerful, happy tree and what started with anger, ended in art. She barely remembered why she started “fixing” the tree. She thought something had made her angry and she wanted to show the world, but before she was even a quarter of the way through it, the project had morphed into Art.

Brianna was going to be really surprised when she stepped out of the house that morning. Not a single sheet of toilet paper. Just bright colors swinging gaily from the little tree by the gate.

Charlene giggled all the way home. Surprise!

Author: Marilyn Armstrong

Opinionated writer with hopes for a better future for all of us!


                    1. I have the passion. What I lack these days are time and energy. I’m hoping by the fall, I’ll be a more sorted out. Both of us should be sorted out by the end of November.


    1. I used to be. The problem is that my heart’s not in it. I can write short fiction. The shorter the better because I’m really BAD at long fiction. But. Reality grabbed me by the cerebral cortex and won’t let go. I feel like the world is too much in my face, personally, politically, culturally. I notice that a lot of writers have at least temporarily abandoned novel-writing and are putting out all their work to try and get people to vote blue.

      I’m not taking the changes in our world particularly well.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. โ€œIโ€™m not taking the changes in our world particularly well.โ€ Nor am I, Marilyn. But I find that composing short flash fiction posts serves as a way to escape the harsh realities of the world by forcing me to focus on a word or an image and to craft a story around it. It serves a distraction, albeit a brief one, from living in Trumpistan.


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