S. Burke's Blog, page 6
February 27, 2021
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #38 Entry Part 3) by Ladyleemanila @Ladyleemanila #IARTG #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity
There once was a dolphin from the sea
Who’s fed up of swimming, likes to ski
To the mountain he goes
Too much for him he froze
He changed his mind went back to the quay
This dolphin still not satisfied
Some places and things to do he tried
Didn’t matter he’s big
Thinks of himself as pig
Or perhaps he just needs a new bride*
(c) ladyleemanila 2021
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You’ll find Ladylee here.
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February 26, 2021
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #38 Entry Part 1) By John Howell @HowellWave and Entry Part 2) by Suzanne Burke @pursoot #IARTG #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity
Here is the image prompt.
This one-line contribution by John Howell.
“Big shot TV tuna or no, you can’t do this, Charlie.�
John Howell can be reached here �
Visit at Amazon.
Here is my own contribution.
SYNCHRONICITY.
Jeremy secured the beach canopy, then hurriedly spread out the blanket on the golden sand. Cathy carried four-year-old Matthew across and sat him down, ensuring he was comfortable before seating herself alongside her husband.
Jeremy reached across and patted her hand, “Don’t get your hopes up, honey. We’ve been through so many ways to try and communicate with Matt, and it shreds us to pieces every time we’ve failed. I can’t bear too many more of these disappointments. I mean we’re the only ones here and the dolphins apparently haven’t been sighted for days.�
Cathy squeezed his hand in acknowledgement, “Oh, God, babe, I understand, truly I do. But don’t you see � I can’t bear the thought of missing one single possibility to reach him on some level.� She looked at their child as she spoke. Matthew sat as always with his arms wrapped tightly together in front of him, and he rocked backwards and forwards to a beat of some kind that only he could hear. “Let’s look at the positives, at the very least we get to spend a day by the ocean, and we haven’t done that in such a long time.�
Her husband smiled at her with love. “Ah, there’s my dreamer. Who knows, I may even build a sand-castle after lunch.�
Cathy just nodded in gratitude. Trying hard not to warp herself in her own sadness grew increasingly more difficult as the years passed. She’d never heard her son laugh, nor felt the touch of her child’s loving hand on her face. There was no answering smile in response to her own. The only sound Matthew made was a high-pitched squeal that couldn’t be deciphered by any of the specialists they’d been to. Their precious child lived in a world of total isolation and her heart ached for him. He could hear them, but couldn’t respond to any of their efforts. It must be so terrifying to feel so alone. Her little boy could walk, but, seemed to do so without a destination in mind.
As she watched on Matthew grew agitated, the rocking increased and then sped up. Matthew stood and began pacing in measured steps left to right. His fingers clenched around his upper arms and his focus was directed out over the ocean, toward something only he could see.
Jeremy clutched her arm and pointed, “There. I saw a dolphin, I’m sure of it!�
Matthew’s pacing grew slower, and without turning away from the ocean he took a step forward.
A dolphin surfaced nearby, and Matthew took another step forward, and then stopped. He appeared to be waiting for something.
Jeremy and Cathy stood just behind him, unable to speak. They watched on as he began walking again, with a very clear destination in mind. They followed quietly not daring to make a sound.
Matthew reached the gentle waves lapping at the shore and his parents watched as the dolphin moved slowly towards him in the shallow water. It stopped within arms- length of the child.
They watched as Matthew opened his arms and allowed his left hand to trail in the water, moving it gently like a frond of seaweed caught in the current with his child’s fingers extended downward.
Matthew began to squeal, but this was different. Cathy could barely breathe as she witnessed the dolphin roll over and offer its underbelly to be touched. The little boy responded, and his chubby fingers began to stroke the beautiful mammal.
The dolphin surfaced and Matthew touched its flank softly. Matthew’s parents watched on and witnessed the first smile they had ever seen on their son’s face.
The sound that now came from their boy would live in their memories forever, it was a squeal of pure childish delight that erupted into laughter.
Matthew then stood still and took one step backward, as the dolphin gave a nod towards him and arched itself back into the deeper water. The youngster stood there utterly focused until the mammal disappeared from view.
He turned then, and moved back towards his parents.
Jeremy and Cathy couldn’t speak. They weren’t sure what they had witnessed. Matthew resumed his place under the canopy. He still rocked back and forward, but his arms were no longer wrapped around him and his fingers were unclenched. It was as if he’d finally been helped to understand that nothing here would ever deliberately harm him.
Jeremy built a sandcastle after lunch. His wife smiled her approval, and his son sat rocking peacefully and watching every move his father made.
His mother found him a seashell, she placed it to her ear and smiled at the sound of the ocean. Matthew didn’t flinch as she placed it to his ear, and a joyous smile lit his precious face as he recognized the sound of the ocean.
He slept that night with the seashell held in his hand.
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February 25, 2021
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #38 New Image Prompt! Join in the fun! #IARTG #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts @pursoot
Hello everyone and welcome to my weekly “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021″� WEEK #38.
Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.
Please put it (or a link to it) in a comment (ON THIS PAGE) or email it to me at by ,DEADLINE: 4pm EDT on Thursday, March 4th. Subject: Fiction in a Flash Challenge. If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be much appreciated.
I’ll be sharing all entries received, and, my own contribution here AS I RECEIVE THEM.
Here is the image prompt for this week.
Image by from
I hope the image inspires you! Come and join in the fun.
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February 23, 2021
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37) Entry Part 10) by Jacquie Biggar @jacqbiggar #IARTG #FlashFiction #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry PART 10) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021� Week #37.
Today I’m featuring a contribution by Jacquie Biggar
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!� Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.
Here is the image prompt and the contribution.
Hank straightened his tie and used the back of his pant legs to polish worn shoes, balancing like a flamingo in front of the dark wood door. Nervous perspiration coated his forehead and under arms covered in the only suit he owned� a heavy gray woolen affair he’d picked up for a steal when his father passed away two years ago.
His father.
It was because of the old man he was in this position. The letter from the lawyer was explicit; if he wanted to inherit (and Lord knows, he did) he had to show up to this interview and make a good impression, or the entire estate would go to his father’s favorite charity- cat rescue.
Fine. He could hop to his dad’s tune one last time; especially if it meant he’d have the last laugh. Five long years since he’d been banished from home. Five miserable, hungry, destitute years. When he got the money, the first thing he was going to do is eat the biggest steak he could buy. Hell, he might even buy a round for the house. That would get the old man’s knickers in a knot- wherever he was.
Filled with renewed determination, Hank lifted his hand to knock, vaguely surprised by the heat he could feel on the door. Number thirteen, Triskaidekaphobia. Trust his father to test his superstitious beliefs. Maybe this was all some sick game concocted by a mean-minded egomaniac determined to make his only son tow the line. It would be just like him.
Hank lowered his fist and began to turn away, his shoulders dejected, when the door swung open, revealing a black maw beyond.
“H� hello?� he called, his voice quivering though he tried to overcome his fear. “W� who’s there?�
The hinges creaked under the force of his hand, the shadows lengthening out to encompass his legs. Frightened, but curious, he pushed his way into the dark room. The air was stagnant and held the scent of incense- or was that kerosene? Either way, it made his head swim.
The door closed with a decisive snap, enshrouding him in the tomb-like atmosphere. A lamp flickered to life on a wide oak desk situated in the middle of the room. A man with benevolent features gestured for Hank to take a seat.
Left with little choice, he did as directed, perching on the edge of the hard chair. “Now what?� he demanded, angry at whatever sick game his father had arranged for him today.
The stranger raised a snow-white brow and pushed two sets of papers across the broad expanse of the desk. Next, he laid a gold pen within Hank’s reach. “Choose carefully,� he said, and sat back, fingers steepled under his chin.
Ready to walk out and forget the whole thing, Hank nevertheless picked up the first sheaf of papers and began to read. It was a journal of his life; an itemized list from birth to the day he left home- all the embarrassing tantrums, name-calling, stealing- it was all there.
Unable to keep reading, he set down the first set of papers and picked up the next. This one was also a journal, but more of a fantasy interpretation. It portrayed him as a sweet and generous child, smart, kind, well-liked. The opposite of how he’d been- truth beknown.
“Fine, I’ve read this crap. What do you want from me?� He threw the papers down and glared defiantly at the old man facing him.
The stranger shrugged. “It’s up to you. Choose the life you believe you’ve led, and sign. One will grant you eternal riches, and the other� won’t.�
Hank swore softly under his breath. Trust the old man to throw one last hurdle at him from the grave. Question was; which story would give him what he wanted?
Picking up the fine gold pen, he hesitated over one, then the other, before finally slashing his name across the page and shoving the whole works across the desk. “There, you have your signature. Where’s my money?�
The old man glanced at the papers and smiled, delight turning his dark eyes into flames. “If you’re sure that’s your answer, your quest begins on the other side of the door behind you.�
Hank rose and stared at the door he’d come through. What was this? There’d been nothing but a long dark hallway leading to this room. Certainly, no one waiting to bequeath him his money. Whipping around, he opened his mouth to complain, but the desk and old man had vanished!
The hairs rose on his nape, sending shivers scuttling down his back. He wished now he’d never heard from his dad’s lawyer. Never given in to the temptation of an easier life. Maybe, he’d give some of the money to help those like himself, guys down on their luck. Yeah, that’s what he would do.
Feeling better already, Hank strode across the room and swung the door open, only to fall back in shock. “Fa� father?� he whispered.
His dad held out his hands, his body backlit with flames. “Come, son, you’re one of us now.�
The choices we make in lifeare ones that will followin death.So, choose wisely, my friend,that you will see Heaveninstead of Hell.~~Jacquie may be reached here �
Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
I may be contacted here �
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37) Entry Part 9) by Mark Bierman @mbiermanauthor #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction
Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 9) of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021”� Week #37.
Today I’m featuring a contribution by Mark Bierman.
I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!� Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.
Here is the image prompt and Mark’s contribution.
“You hear that?� Mandy twisted her red locks into coils. Her wide-eyed expression moved her freckles, like dozens of islands shifted by an earthquake.
Dan put his ear against the door.
“Careful! What do you hear?�
“Chewing.� An icicle lodged in his spine.
“What? Dan Beamish! I can’t take it any longer! I’m calling Mom and Dad! I want to go home! George Binks was right, this place is ܲԳٱ!�
“My gosh!� Dan jumped back. His jaw became a flag in the wind.
“Stop blubbering, out with it! You’re scaring me!�
“You should be.�
“Stop it!� Mandy’s eyes were red. It reminded Dan of the time he’d drew mustaches on her Barbies, with permanent marker. “Tell Uncle Bill! He’ll know what to do. He’ll call Mom and Dad to pick us up!�
“Don’t be such a wimp. Don’t you want to see what it is? Maybe it’s a Snog, just like in one of your silly books. Besides, Uncle Bill is away this afternoon. Mom and Dad are in the Bahamas.�
“I’m NOT a wimp, you’re just stupid! My books are NOT silly. Snogs are NOT real. Whatever’s in there, is! We should wait until Uncle Bill returns.�
“Get me something to defend myself.�
Mandy crossed her arms and scowled at her older brother. He was stubborn, just like his father, that’s what Mom said. Mom’s always right about Dan. She sighed. “Fine, there’s a croquette mallet in the hall closest.� She stomped down the ancient steps. Stupid, old, haunted house. Why couldn’t they’ve gone to Aunt Rita’s cottage on the beach? Oh, because Danny the Pansy was allergic to the sand. Whoever heard of such a thing?
She returned with the mallet to find Dan testing the doorknob.
Mandy performed a fake curtsy and handed the mallet over. “You’re lance, noble knight.�
Dan rolled his eyes. He counted to three, via the scenic route. “Two and a quarter, two and a half, two and three quarters, three!� He charged in screaming, mallet raised overhead, Brave Heart style.
Something large ran through what could only be described as a trash bin. Dan looked around, shocked by the mess. Uncle was a neat freak, but this was an episode of Hoarders.
Wind gusted through an open window. Papers blew across a desk and onto a floor that could have been hardwood. A huge lump moved underneath the pile, heading straight for him! A terrible hissing and growling came from the thing.
Dan’s arms lost feeling and the mallet struck his knee as it dropped. He was nailed to the floor.
“Dan! Get out!�
He tried to back away, but tripped on a power cord, that brought him and a desk computer, crashing to the floor.
A yellowed New York Times paper, a foot from his face, burst off the floor, to reveal a hideous nightmare of bloody teeth and fur.
The eyes were blacker than the pavement, velociraptor sharp claws, and a hiss like a thousand water snakes. It stood on it’s hind legs, belly fur covered in blood. The thing was about to rip him apart! His mind flashed back to all those nature shows he’d watched. What to do? Run . . . seriously? Play dead? No, he’d be dead. Act submissive, lower your eyes and bow your head . . . quick! He raised himself to a kneel and bowed, face to the floor. It was terrifying, exposing the back of his neck.
“Dan! What are you doing! Have you lost your mind?�
“Showing respect. Being submissive.�
It didn’t work. The thing hissed and moved towards him. Dan could feel and smell its hot and stinky breath . This was it, his life for hers. “Go, Mandy! Run! It wants me and you can still get away!�
The beast moved closer, coming in for the kill bite, just like a lion. It would be a less painful way to die.
Dan was ready too.
Something swept past his head. The creature let out a squeal and then began to whimper, as it fled.
“You rascal!� Uncle Bill yelled.
His new favorite uncle held a broom, as he chased the thing out the window. He shut the window, turned towards them and said, “Blasted racoon. Should have closed the window. Got into my bowl of ravioli again!� He held up an empty can of Chef Boyardee’s “finest� pasta. He looked embarrassed.
Dan smacked his head when he noticed the “blood”� matched the color of the pasta sauce.
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Mark can be reached here �
***
I can be reached here �
Thank you so much for stopping by. Your comments are always appreciated.
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37 Entry Part 8) by Kirsten Nairn @KirstenNairn #FlashFiction #WritingPrompt #WritingCommunity
Joules took a deep breath before knocking. Number 13! She wasn’t superstitious, but this felt like she was tempting fate and would remind her every day of her miserable life; a failed relationship (it seemed Christopher preferred skinny blondes after all), no job (how was she to know the audition for Frida the musical was about Frida Kahlo and not Frida Lyngstad of Abba fame?), and now homeless.
A movement caught her eye. A black cat with emerald eyes was staring up at her. More sodding bad luck, she muttered, as she knocked at the door.
‘Joules. You’re here at last! I’m so excited. We’re going to be flat mates again! And you’ve met Lucifer already!� Lucy rubbed the cat under the chin. He meowed loudly and walked past her, into the flat
‘Lܳڱ?�
‘Yes. He turned up last week and seems to have adopted me. Lucifer seemed the perfect name for him. I think he must be stray, but he’s so gorgeous I couldn’t leave him to roam the streets, alone and afraid.�
Joules wasn’t convinced about Lucifer’s inability to handle himself on the mean streets of Edinburgh’s Morningside.
‘I’ll make us some tea. I’ve created lots of new blends for you try. I’ve got St John’s Wort for depression, Valerian Root for insomnia, Chamomile for anxiety.�
Bloody hell, was this how Lucy saw her? Was she just another stray, like Lucifer?
‘I’m more of a Tetley girl remember? I brought my own in case you didn’t have any.�
Lucy picked the teabag up by the corner and dropped it, with distaste, into the mug.
‘Well perhaps I can do you a potion instead? You’ll need to become familiar with them if you’re to help me sell them. Actually, I’ve developed a special valentine’s potion with Cinnamon, Damiana and Goksuhura. We’ll be pushing this at the stall on Saturday. I can’t wait!�
Joules groaned inwardly. This was the price of a free room. ‘Lovely,� she smiled.
Saturday came around soon enough and Joules found herself at ‘Au Natural�, the much-coveted annual Festival, manning the stall, alongside other new agers selling their wares. She hoped the pungent smell of patchouli from the neighbouring stall would put people off, but no! It seemed people were more in need of a little ‘help� than she’d anticipated.
‘So, is this all it’s cracked up to be?� a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.
She looked up, straight into clear emerald eyes resting under a mop of jet black hair. He was reading the ingredients on the Valentine’s packaging.
‘Yes. I believe so. I mean, I haven’t actually tried it, but I’m assured it does the trick.�
‘And what is that exactly? The trick?�
‘Well, it helps your, err, partner, to be a little more� enthusiastic.�
‘Ah right. And how does that work exactly? What do I do with it? Drink it? Rub it on? Is it for me or the lucky lady?�
‘Well, I’m not quite sure about the exact science behind it but I guess it acts in the same way as oysters, although with less gagging. Lucy there is the developer, so she can give you more detail if you like.
‘And what are her credentials then?�
Joules paused. ‘She’s a white witch if you must know. Don’t laugh. She’s no weirder than anyone else here. I mean, which muppet came up with the concept for this. Au Natural, a natural magnet for the world’s weirdos. I blame Harry Potter myself. I haven’t the heart to tell her it’s all codswallop.�
He raised his eyebrows, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. ‘Quite. Unusual branding though-No 13?�
‘Well, she says it’s something about dispelling superstitions.�
‘You haven’t actually told me if it’s for me to take or the lucky lady?�
‘I’ve no idea. Why don’t you buy two sachets- one for yourself and one for the lucky lady and see what happens?�
‘Yes, why not? Because I like pissing my hard-earned money away, but if it does the job, then it’s money well spent.�
Transaction completed, he held out his hand. ‘I’m Louie by the way, the muppet who came up with the concept for Au Natural. Nice meeting you.�
Her jaw dropped as she watched him disappear into the crowd.
Joules was exhausted when she returned to the flat. She pushed at the door and noticed the distinctive Valentine’s package trapped underneath it, with a note.
To Joules, the Dark Witch at number 13. Fancy giving it a try?
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Follow Kirsten Nairn on
my website
ŷ; /author/show/17042903.Kirsten_Nairn
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***
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February 22, 2021
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37. Entry Part 7) by Karen Ingalls @KIngallsAuthor #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction
SOME CORNY KNOCK KNOCK JOKES
KNOCK. KNOCK
WHO’S THERE?
SOOOZ
SOOOZ WHO?
SOOOZING IN BED
KNOCK, KNOCK
WHO’S THERE?
MARK
MARK WHO?
MARKING MY SPOT WITH AN X
KNOCK, KNOCK
WHO’S THERE?
JACQUIE
JACQUIE WHO?
JACQUIEING UP MY CAR
KNOCK, KNOCK
WHO’S THERE?
MAE
MAE WHO?
MAEBE, I SHOULD STOP WRITING THESE JOKES!
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Karen may be reached here �
I can be reached here �
Thanks so much for stopping by! I’d love to hear your thoughts. I’ll be posting further entries as they are received.
February 20, 2021
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37 Part 6) by Gwen Plano @gmplano #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt #FlashFiction
Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 6) of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.”� Week #37.
Today I’m featuring a contribution by Gwen Plano.
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!� Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.
Here’s the image prompt and the contribution by Gwen Plano.
“Let’s just say, I took care of it. Trust me, Louise.�
“I trust you. It’s just that I’m curious. I don’t understand how you could have fixed it. You know what people say about that apartment.�
“I don’t believe such rubbish.�
“But others do, Bob, and they’ll be afraid to visit.� Her voice rising out of pure frustration.
“That’s why I fixed it!�
“Okay, enough of this. We’ll see.�
They turned the corner of the building and entered the refurbished apartment structure. Another couple hurried past them as they approached the elevator door.
“Second floor, right?�
“Yeah, second floor.�
She punched the elevator button and looked at the apartment list. There was no number 13. She looked over to Bob. “What did you do?�
“Nothing really. The one and three are still there. No harm done.�
“But, but where’s our apartment?�
“It’s there. I promise. It’s there.�
The elevator stopped abruptly at the second floor and the two walked down the long hall to their new apartment. Standing in front of the door, she hesitated. At first, she didn’t notice it, but then a smile stretched across her face. Turning she gave Robert a huge hug.
“You know I love you right?”�
some doors are just doorsothers open to magic
maybe it’s our choice~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Gwen Plano can be reached here �
Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
I may be contacted here �
‘Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37 Entry Part 5) By D.L.Finn @dlfinnauthor #IARTG #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity
Denise says, “I’m using the Haibun Poem format, which is a combination of a prose paragraph and a Haiku/Senryu.�
THE DOORI grasped the small brass key tightly in my hand. The wooden door was now within my reach. It was the opening to the dreaded thirteenth colony. This is the place they sent people who asked too many questions. I glanced back into the darkness of what had been my existence. There had been no tears shed, and no one had stayed to say goodbye. I accepted I was no longer a part of their lives. My hand shook as I inserted the key and heard the click. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. Vivid colors and a warm glow welcomed me into a place of beauty where my mother was waiting. Smiling, I shut the door on a world of fools.
Stepping into light
Leaving the dark cave behind
I found my answer.
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D.L.Finn can be reached here �
Thanks so much for stopping by! I look forward to reading your comments.
I can be reached here �
‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37 Entry Part 4) by Anita Dawes @jaydawes2 #IARTG #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction
Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry PART 4) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.� Week #37.
Today I’m featuring a contribution from by Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie.
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!� Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.
Here is the image prompt and the contribution.
What would you do if a strange door popped up in your bedroom?
A weird twilight moment
There are no signs, yet I feel it screaming, stay out, do not enter.
How many of us can resist the temptation?
Slowly, I push the door open, stepping into the dark space.
In the blink of an eye, I find myself in the centre of London.
Standing in Trafalgar Square, Nelson towering over me,
Four black lions standing guard, tour buses,
on their way to show eager eyes the Queen’s House
with its high black gated railings
Smart soldiers stand ready while the Queen sleeps,
Flag flying high on the pole.
There is plenty of culture for those who wish it.
Street art drawn with bright colored chalk.
Step inside the History Museum,
see how small you feel against the giant dinosaurs.
Sit on the pews of St Martins Church
Take a rest before going on to Piccadilly,
where Eros stands with bow and arrow in hand
Ride the London Eye, high above the River Thames.
Take a red bus to where you left the strange door,
hoping it’s on the tourist route�
© Anita Dawes 2021
Contact Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie Here .
Thanks so much for stopping by. I’ll be posting more entries as I receive them.
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