Tag Archives: aging

Going to Shea Stadium

guitars

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Have a seat.” Jackie’s voice was young and encouraging.

“Learn to play guitar at my age?” Anxiety from the time he tried learning the trumpet when he was ten surged in his seventy-one-year-old chest.

“Learning something new will keep you young,” his granddaughter said. “It sharpens the mind and…”

“There’s nothing wrong with my mind,” he complained. “I’m still inventing and just made a breakthrough.”

“I know you like music,” she said.

“Sure, as a consumer,” he said. “Look, I know you’re trying to help, but my time machine’s warmed up by now. August 15, 1965 and Shea Stadium await.”

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Cut Down

stump

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Emory heard that you could tell how old a tree is by the number of rings in its trunk. He had no idea how to figure the age of the stump in front of his place. The city had ordered the beautiful shade tree cut down because it was a hazard.

Pity. He used to sit underneath it with his grandchildren and read to them. He played hide-and-go-seek with them behind it by never quite hiding. It had been his harbinger of winter and his herald of spring.

Now, like him, it was just a broken relic of the past.

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You Are What You Eat

fast food

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Harold sat in the driver’s seat and slammed the door. The doctor’s visit was more than disappointing. Doc called the pharmacy so that numerous prescriptions would be filled and waiting when he got there.

He looked down at the pile of trash on the car’s floorboards and then his expansive gut.

“You are what you eat,” he muttered. “Bloody blood sugar.”

He wanted to cry but instead he put the key in the ignition and started his car.

“This won’t beat me. I won’t die a fat slob choking down a bunch of pills. I must join a gym immediately.”

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The Year of Alan

lisa snow

PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

If you like my work, buy me a virtual cup of coffee at Ko-Fi.

The first snow. Alan was around ninety. He felt relatively robust, needing only a cane to walk. He cherished this path. He ran down it when he was three in January to build his only snowman.

It was here he had his first kiss in March and was married in April. May was the time for their only child, but by then, Jean knew the truth.

Little Dianna was only six months but he could have been be her great-great grandfather. He was born in January and would die in December. The seasons of his life were but one year.

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Yesterday

music

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Santiago set his guitar on its stand, and then closed the cover on “the Beatles complete easy guitar” book. This small upstairs room was his refuge, someplace where he could visit his youth. Aging fingers would never be as nimble again, nor his voice as clear.

He whispered,

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away…”

Hearing a car pull up, he walked across the room to the window that overlooked the driveway and smiled. His children and grandchildren were here. Today, he turned sixty-four and would let himself rejoice in the present and whatever future he had left.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the prompt for writing a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is 99.

When I saw the songbook (I looked it up on Amazon to verify the title), I immediately thought of Paul McCartney’s Yesterday, but since I turn 64 next month, When I’m Sixty-Four also came to mind. Growing older is often a mixture of anticipation and regrets. You can never go home again, but you can sometimes visit.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

The Old People’s Plant

house plant

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

He was smart enough not to say that out loud because his wife had just put the planter on their kitchen table.

“So what do you think?”

She’d asked a question almost as bad as “Do these pants make me look fat?”

He decided to take a risk. “I like the crystal, but I’m not sure about using it for a planter.”

“Me either. Karen gave it to me while she’s having her kitchen remodeled. Not really my style.”

He registered an internal sigh of relief. “Yes, we’re older, but we’re not that old yet.”

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields flash fiction challenge. The idea is to use the photo above as the prompt for crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is 100.

It looked to “ordinary” for me to think of anything besides a “slice of life” piece. No research involved.

To read other stories based on the prompt, visit InLinkz.com.

A Great Time to Be Alive

moon base

Scene from the 1968 film, “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

Jason Fields sat in the Common Area of Lunar Base Five (LB5) sipping his coffee. He got there early enough to get a table by one of the windows. He liked looking out at the rest of the base and the wild and empty Moonscape beyond. He was pleased that the construction of Dome Three was progressing ahead of schedule, and could remember being one of the young men in a spacesuit building the first habitat for humans on the Moon. 2018 was great time to be alive.

Later, he planned to phone his son’s family back on Earth. His eight-year-old Grandson Billy gave a report in class yesterday about the Moon Base Program using some of Jason’s personal experiences and he was anxious to see how it went.

As one of the original engineers on Lunar Base One back in the 1980s, his contribution earned him permanent residency on the Moon in the colony of his choice. Taking another sip of coffee, he mused how he never thought he’d actually retire up here. He probably wouldn’t have if Cindy were still alive, poor soul, but cancer took her far to early in life.

“Hey, Jase.” He looked up at the man joining him at his table.

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The Rose Stem

rose stem

© Marie Gail Stratford

The rose stem was another sign that the world was shutting down, except that a small spider had chosen to use it as a platform for dining. The grass was still green but all of the leaves were making their stately transition to reds and golds. He was entering another autumn as he continued through the autumn of his life. He could hear his grandchildren screeching and giggling as they playfully chased each other across the lawn. They were his spring now, no matter how bitter the coming winter.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields photo writing challenge. The idea is to use the image at the top to inspire the creation of a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is (amazingly) 89.

I looked up “rose stem” on Google and only came up with a skin cream. The blossoming of roses is variable but generally they bloom from mid-spring through fall. The scene reminded me of the beginning of autumn here, still pleasantly warm days with a bite in the night air.

So I chose to write another “Grandpa” tale about the “life cycle.” Not much drama to be sure. Just a few moments of reflection as winter continues its relentless march toward an eventual spring outside of my home.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

The Dish We’re Served

plate

© Yarnspinnerr

“What are you eating, Grandpa.”

“Ashes, apparently.”

Elizabeth was twelve and still enjoyed visiting her Grandpa for the holidays. Mom and Dad would be up in a few days but this time was just for the two of them. Lately though Grandpa had been acting strange.

“I can make you a sandwich for lunch if you’d like.”

“No, sweetie. This is the plate set before me and this is what I’ll eat.”

“But what is it, Grandpa? It doesn’t even look like food.”

“It’s what’s left of your dreams after the magic’s gone. Dried up like autumn leaves. Good for nothing but throwing away.”

“Oh, Grandpa.” She slipped up behind the old man and hugged him as he sat at the table. You still miss Grandma, don’t you?”

The old man reached up and gently put his hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“She was my dream. Now God’s taken the magic away.”

Elizabeth sat in the next chair and put her arms around him. “I miss her too, Grandpa. I promise. I’ll always love you.”

I write this for the FFfAW Challenge-Week of December 12, 2017 challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for crafting a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long. My word count is 175.

I have no idea what’s on that plate and it really made it tough to think of anything to write. I thought about aliens, the supernatural, some sort of tie in to Christmas or Hanukkah, but nothing really clicked. What I wrote above is the best I could come up with. Dining on dead and dried up dreams after the magic has gone. The family members one generation older than me are getting sicker and some have died this year. Looking back, I realize I’ve been looking death in the face. The only thing that gives me hope is the children who will come after us.

To read other stories based on the prompt, visit InLinkz.com.

Life in Ruins

Renwick Ruins

© Roger Bulltot

I like it here. I know, there are more reasons to tear this place down than to preserve it. And yet I find the aging, crumbling walls have their own beauty, especially in the way that nature has chosen to integrate herself in this place.

I have a confession. I like it here because it reminds me of me. The Renwick Ruins and I are the same, aging, decaying, and yet seeking our own place in the world. There are reasons why I should be torn down, too. We are both old. Does that mean we should both die?

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields photo writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as a prompt to write a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is exactly 99.

The image is titled “smallpox hospital” and it didn’t take much “Googling” to discover that the photo is of the ruins of the Renwick Smallpox Hospital on Roosevelt Island in New York.

In some ways, this blog post is related to one I wrote on a sister blog late yesterday. Both are about the examination of an older life struggling to survive and somehow remake itself. Like the Renwick Ruins, it might not be possible, but who knows.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.