Rebecca M. Douglass, Author

 Participating again in KL Caley's #WritePhoto, inspired by this really cool door in a wall. Blue. Image by KL Caley   Participating in the weekly #WritePhoto blog hop at KL Caley's New2Writing blog. Every Thursday a new photo prompt. Post stories, poems, or whatever by the following Tuesday and link back to KL's page. About 800 words. Through the Door “Don’t use that one.” I reached out a hand to stop Beth from touching the latch on the big blue door.   “But we always go this way. This isn’t the time to explore. It’s going to rain.” She waved a hand at the clouds that had grown thicker and darker as we walked that morning.   “I know. But look at this.” I pointed to the small, pointed door in the bottom half of the big one. “Let’s use this one.”   “Isn’t that the cat door?” She was running her hands over the metallic gold stars that studded the door, her fingers trying to read the meaning of the array.   “Pretty big for cats.” The

  I wrote the first few hundred words of this story a couple of weeks ago for the #WritePhoto challenge. I have since rewritten that and continued the story, so I'm including the whole 1950 words here--grab a cup of tea and relax with this double-sized flash fiction. These are the photos from KL Caley's WritePhoto page that set off the story. I didn't make the deadline, but go ahead and follow the link for other takes on the prompt.         At the Castle   I. Approach   Once, the entry to the castle must have shouted a large and inarguable “do not enter.” Moat, drawbridge, portcullis. With appropriate guards, it would keep out all but the most determined invaders.   There is one invader that no wall can protect against: time. The moat had long since filled itself in, the portcullis was rusted, and someone had built an all-too-solid bridge.   The new arrivals considered the antique pile and wondered if the castle could ever be made secure

                                        Approach--photo by KL Caley Participating in the weekly #WritePhoto blog hop at KL Caley's New2Writing blog. Every Thursday a new photo prompt. Post stories, poems, whatever by the following Tuesday and link back to KL's page.   I may have taken some liberties with this castle, as I don't think the one in the photo backs up to water, but that's the way of things when you start writing! This one is about 630 words. Approach Once, the entry to the castle must have shouted a large and inarguable “do not enter.” Moat, drawbridge, portcullis. With appropriate guards, it would keep out all but the most determined invaders.   There is one invader that no wall can protect against: time. The moat had long since filled itself in, the portcullis was rusted, and someone had built a solid bridge.   The new arrivals considered what was left of the ancestral castle and wondered if it could ever be made

Image by KL Caley Participating in the weekly #WritePhoto blog hop at KL Caley's New2Writing blog. Every Thursday a new photo prompt. Post stories, poems, whatever by the following Tuesday and link back to KL's page. I've been slacking a bit through the holidays, but am ready (maybe) to get back on the bandwagon. About 565 words. Down the Alley “We cut through here. It’s what the route map shows.”   “Are you sure?” Berta peered into the narrow lane between the old homes, the backsides of brick structures looking surprisingly attractive. “Does it even go through? It looks like a dead end.”   “No,” Sarah assured her. “There’s a turn down there and it continues out the other side. To the left. Which is the direction we need to go, and it cuts off this big loop on the main road.” She opened the mapping app on her phone and showed Berta. “See? We’re here, and if we cut through, we’ll be back on the other road, and then turn off right there. The gree

  Photo by KL Caley Participating in the weekly #WritePhoto blog hop at KL Caley's New2Writing blog. This week I did an exactly 100 word drabble (exclusive of the title).   Wreath   “It’s a beautiful door,” she said.   “Historic, if you ask me,” he replied.   “And the wreath—it’s a nice touch.”   “Meant to be welcoming, I suppose.”   “Why don’t I feel welcome?”   They stood in the courtyard and studied the door, wondering what was wrong about the door.   “How do you open it,” she asked.   “There’s a latch thingie in the middle,” he pointed out.   “There’s a wreath hanging over both doors,” she pointed out.   “They open in. Just push it open and walk in.” He demonstrated, stifling cries of pain as his face encountered the prickly circlet of pine boughs.   ###   Hope you enjoyed a little laugh there!     ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2022  As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated. Don'

Visitor – Image by KL Caley   Participating in the weekly #WritePhoto challenge at KL Caley's New2Writing website. I am excited and honored to be in residence at Holly House/Hypatia-in-the-Woods for a couple of weeks, decompressing and focusing on my writing. That helped give me the idea for this very short story. Very short in part because I'm still trying to get that novel drafted, and have fallen a bit behind the last few days.  Here you are, in just over 300 words. The Visitor The squirrel came to visit on the first day of Cora’s solo meditation retreat. Squirrels, she realized, were always around. She didn’t pay it much attention the first time it came and sat on the fence, watching her doing her yoga. But the big-tailed rodent continued to visit every afternoon, so that she quickly came to look for it when she was on the deck.   By the end of the first week she was calling it “The Visitor,” and making entries in her jo

Photo by KL Caley Posting for the weekly #WritePhoto challenge by KL Caley at New2Writing.com.  Read all about it and join in at the WritePhoto site.      This photo immediately rang some bells deep in my memory about an appropriate story about a tidepool. Unfortunately, it must not have been my story, because I can't find any such thing (but I'm *sure* I wrote such a story. Or maybe I thought about writing one?). Because I'm still deep in NaNoWriMo weeds, I need to run a recycled story anyway. The best I could do was this one, which at least has some sand in it, but sadly has nothing to do with those poor sea critters.  My apologies, KL! The Fourth Awakening My first awakening was simple, and normal. When the sun came up, I opened my eyes, same as any day. Sleeping, then not sleeping, just as usual, and really only about three-quarters awake. That morning, opening my eyes was about the last normal thing that happened. I rolled out of the sack, and ins