Pencil in His Hand: A Mother's Journal of Stories, Thoughts, and Poems.

  *** A GERMAN GRANDMOTHER Frieda Brand drove carefully along the rutted farm road leading up to her parents' farm.She soaked in the view. It had been a while since she'd visited.The cherry trees were in bloom and they formed a fairy tale avenue of candyfloss.Even Willem and Karl, Frieda's little boys were quiet as they gazed out of the windows.The bowl of mountains welcomed them to the fruitful Ceres farm. "Welkom, welkom," Frieda's mother Ida greeted them from the spacious and cool veranda. She still spoke with a German accent after all these years. The little ones were out of the car in a flash. Frieda retrieved their bags and followed. The boys had disappeared already, but she knew where they'd be. Sure enough, Willem and Karl were seated at the generous kitchen table, a cookie in each hand. "So, you have come at a good time," Ida announced as she bustled around, putting the kettle on and arranging more goodies on a plate. "This time of ...

  Un-Distracted Talulla gathered her supplies and allowed a wave of hopeful excitement to wash through her. "Lord, please help me. Please give me the words..." God had laid it on her heart to write this story. A story that could help someone. Now all she needed was time and space. She grinned as she tossed a cupboard key towards her room-mate, Prisca. Her nearly new smart phone was safely locked away inside it. "Remember, only give it to me when I've finished my first chapter." Talulla patted the dumb phone in her pocket. "You can get hold of me on my other number." As Talulla entered the venerable old library, the smell of both musty and of freshly printed books greeted her. She took a deep cleansing breath. In that moment, she felt as though she had all the time in the world. Her story was going to be written, and with God's help, no apps or notifications were going to get in her way. *** Copyright: pencil in His Hand *** Just imagine what you co...

  A Reason To Clean. A Short Story. Grace shoved the book she'd been reading aside. It was time to put her plan into action. She flicked her long silver plait over her shoulder, and looked around her living room. Where should she start? The title of the book, was "Swedish Death Cleaning." Rather morbid, but on point, Grace thought. She really did have far too many things.  Grace grabbed a roll of rubbish bags and tore one off. She was ready. The author had suggested that one should start with the easy stuff: rubbish, junk, old food, and broken items. That would be easy. She moved quickly through the rooms of her moderate home, and threw anything rubbishy looking into the bag. It didn't take too long. She lived alone. Greg had passed on suddenly a few years previously, and now there was only one "G." Grace had finally parted with most of his possessions. Now it was her own stuff's turn. By the end of the day, Grace had moved on to the kitchen drawers as w...

  Dearest Readers, I hope you will find something to inspire and encourage you in this longer post. Enjoy! And may God bless you. As usual, I invite you to stay awhile and browse my bookshelves for more free reads.  See you next week, God willing. Love, Alison The Return As Donal put one weary, blistered foot in front of the other, he forced himself to remain alert to danger. He had yet to reach the border between the Broadlands and the Narrows. Donal scratched nervously at his ragged beard and scanned the field beside the road for food. He pounced on some grains which had been forgotten by the harvestors, then stuffed them into his sack quickly. He could see land men in the distance. They were a hot-tempered and mean-spirited folk. He knew this from experience, having been worked nearly to death by a land man for a bare handful of food a day. Donal forced his thin, run down body to move on. Only once he'd reached the shelter of a few boulders did he stop. Then, with his back ...

Free serialized story.  The Waiting Room. Episode Five: Katya and Jonah In a lull during the busy supper time rush, Tara opened the dishwasher. Her friend and fellow waitress, Katya, began loading it with glasses, and flatware. "Why not come with me tonight?" Tara asked brightly. "You've always been interested in the spiritual side of things." Tara knew it was highly unlikely that Katya would agree to go to the End-Time meetings, and would be very surprised if she said yes. She had in fact surprised herself by accepting her mother's invitation to the church meetings.  Katya closed the dishwasher door firmly. "No thank you. I'll go to just about anything except a Christian meeting. Narrow minded people are not my thing, and you know it. Why are you going, anyway? I thought you walked away from the church ages ago." Tara looked over at her customers before answering. They all seemed happy enough. "I guess I started thinking again. You know, ...

  Free serialized story. End-Times. Romance The Waiting Room. Episode Three: Oliver "I booked a table for  two at The Fig Tree." Oliver said as he opened the car door for Tara. "You'll love it." Tara smiled at her handsome date. "It sounds fabulous." Oliver was several years older than she, and already a rock star in the world of design. Tara on the other hand, was still studying at business college and working as a waitress part time. "You've been there before." She said. Of course he had. Oliver was always having lunch with clients. At the best restaurants. "Yes." He flashed a smile her way. Oliver ordered the fig and camembert starter and the couple settled in for a relaxed evening. But Tara found her mind wandering back to where it had been before  Oliver picked her up. "Do you believe in God?" She asked. Her voice sounded loud in the quiet ambience of their surroundings. Oliver's fork clattered to his plate. ...