The phone was ringing inside the phone box as Lisa walked past.

Nine months had passed since her mother died. Walking had become her way to cope.

The first months were the worst. Her very soul shivered. With grief, regret, sadness and with the damp cold of winter.

She bundled in layers and walked the country roads for hours.

At first she focused on her feet, watching them move forward as if they belonged to someone else while her mind replayed that last conversation.

Her mom had called that morning, “I’m not feeling well. Could you stop over?”

“Is it urgent?” Lisa had asked. “I’ve got a lot happening today. Could I come tomorrow?”

Her mother had yielded. She never wanted anyone to fuss over her.

She never wanted anyone to fuss over her. Lisa repeated those words in her mind. That’s why I should have listened. That’s why I should have gone.

But she hadn’t.

Instead she had found her mother the next day, dead.

So she started walking. For hours upon hours.

She thought knew these roads, but she had never noticed the phone box.

Now it was ringing. She pushed the door open and lifted the receiver.

“Hello,” she said.

“Lisa? Is that you?” It was her mother’s voice. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that I loved you.”

“Mom? Mom?!” Lisa shouted into the receiver. “I love you, too.”

With a click the line went dead.

Lisa stood, staring and wondering at the receiver.

---

My Unicorn Challenge submission for this week.

This is 250 words, the limit for the challenge. It also has to be based on the photo.

I had to edit out SO MUCH to make the word count and I didn’t even finish the story in my head. I hope it makes sense.

She sat at a table with a tall iced lemonade. Waiting. Waiting.

He said he would meet her here.

“Don’t be late,” he had said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

She waited and sipped.

Not far away, he waited, watching for her.

Where was she? he wondered.

He felt his anger rising.

He had told her not to be late and that he had a surprise.

Surprises always intrigued her. She was like a fish chasing a shiny lure. Dangle some bauble and she’ll follow it anywhere. He scoffed aloud as he thought of her stupidity.

The outdoor seating was crowded. She leaned against the tree and wondered if she was in the wrong spot. She sipped the last of her lemonade and decided to stroll to the other side and see if he was there.

At about the same moment, he rose and walked to see if he could find her.

“Damn tourists,” he muttered as he picked his way around the busy tables.

There was no sign of her. He clenched and unclenched his fists angrily. He shoved his hands into his pockets and fingered the packet of cyanide salts he had hoped to slip into her drink.

“Damn,” he said aloud and stalked off.

She, too, scanned the crowded tables — no sign of him.

She sighed a deep sigh, thinking about the container of arsenic in her purse. It would have to wait for another time.

---

This is my response to this week’s Unicorn Challenge. The Unicorn Challenge is simple — 250 words based on the photo prompt.

Clearly I watch way too many crime shows.

Plus, my dramaturg daughter is probably rolling her eyes at my choice of poisons. I don’t know about poisons — and I was afraid to search on my computer for the best poison to slip into a drink. Again — too many crime shows.

“This is very strange,” said the cardiologist. “I have never seen anything like it.”

“What is it, doctor?” she asked.

The monitor was facing away from her. The doctor stared, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. Finally, he stepped away and came around to sit beside her.

“Tell me again what you’ve been experiencing,” he asked.

“My heart starts racing. I get short-of-breath,” she said.

“Are you exercising when this happens?”

“No! I’m just sitting at my desk,” she said.

“It just starts randomly?” he asked.

Her face flushed. “Kind of,” she said.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked.

“N-n-n0,” she said.

He paused and moved on to explain what she was about to see. “We have new technology,” he said, “that takes information from many different studies and layers them to form an image of your heart. We took the images from your electrocardiogram, echocardiogram, MRI, and CT scan, and combined them. Then we took the electroencephalogram, the study of your brain waves, and layered that too. The result is an image that should show what is happening with your heart.”

She nodded, showing that she understood.

He stood up and turned the monitor to face her.

She looked at the image showing dry ground and a box marked, “Fragile.”

Just then her cellphone buzzed. She look at her phone, at the photo of the man calling her. Her face flushed; her breath caught; she put her hand over her heart to hold it in.

---

This week’s Unicorn Challenge. Rules are to use the image as a prompt and write a maximum of 250 words.

“Is that my shirt?” Deena asked.

“What are you talking about?” her sister Sadie replied. “I bought this shirt a year ago.”

Deena shook her head. “No, in the photo.”

“What?! That’s a soap dispenser!” Sadie said. “I balanced it on the post and liked the shadows it made, so I snapped a photo of it.”

“Well, that’s my shirt,” Deena said, pointing to a faint bit of plaid visible through the doorway.

“Oh, yeah, oops,” Sadie said sheepishly. “I suppose you want it back?”

“Nah, you can have it.”

“Come here, Deena, and tell me what you see,” Sadie said, looking out the front window.

“I see Mrs. Smith weeding her flowers,” she answered, pointing off to the side. “Why?”

“Because I see your bike left on the lawn,” said Sadie.

“How about here?” she asked, pulling Deena into the kitchen.

“I see a sink full of dishes,” Deena said.

“And I see the fruit bowl on the counter!”

They both laughed and ran into the living room.

“Guess what I see here,” Deena asked.

Sadie looked off to the side, and saw the unfolded blanket on a chair. She pointed at it and Deena nodded.

“But what do I see?” Sadie asked.

Deena furrowed her brow and studied the center of the room. “The pile of books?”

“Yes!” Sadie squealed.

“Guess what I see,” said a stern voice behind them.

The girls turned.

“I see two girls with Saturday chores to do,” said their mother. “Start cleaning.”

---

This is my response to this week’s Unicorn Challenge:

Using the photo prompt, write a story of 250 words or less.

Then go clean your room.

“Is not!”

“Is, too!”

“No way your grandfather is an alien hunter!” Johnny hissed, his face close to Kevin’s.

“IS, TOO!” Kevin shouted.

The boys stared at each other, then Kevin said, “”I can prove it.”

“How?” scoffed Johnny. “You gonna show me a dead alien.”

“No, even better,” said Kevin, “I can show you his chuffleuffle gun.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” said Johnny. “There’s no such thing as a scuffleumple gun.”

“Yeah — because it’s a chuffle–uffle gun,” Kevin replied. “You don’t even know the right name for it.”

“Fine,” said Johnny. “Show me the gun.” He wasn’t going to attempt that ridiculous name again.

The two boys went to Kevin’s grandfather’s room. They could hear grandfather singing in the kitchen, so they knew it was safe to go in his room. Kevin pointed at the short bell-nosed gun leaning in the corner.

“See?!” He whispered triumphantly.

Johnny rolled his eyes. “It’s just an old gun.”

“No! It’s a chuffleuffle gun. That’s the noise it makes when he shoots it. AND, he only uses it to shoot chuffles.”

Johnny snorted. “What’s a chuffle? An alien?”

“YES!” said Kevin. “From the planet Chuff!”

Grandfather was still singing away, so Kevin took a step closer. “See, here’s grandfather’s hunting hat and glasses. The chuffleuffle gun can hurt your eyes, but it wouldn’t hurt you if I shot you with it. It only hurts chuffles.”

Johnny looked skeptical.

“I’ll show you,” said Kevin, and he reached for the gun.

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This partial story brought to you by The Unicorn Challenge.

That darn 250 word is going to be the death of me.

Not a chuffleuffle gun, though, because I’m not a chuffle.

Oh, you take the high road
And I’ll take the low road…

They both studied the map. Iain watched Josh trace a route that looked longer than long. It took him north first, then southeast along the railroad tracks — tracks that took him so far south so that he had to ride north again. Why he didn’t follow the trail that seemed direct?

But it was a race.

Iain zoomed down the trail until he got to the livestock chute with the curved fencing. He was so bent on beating Josh that he hadn’t really paid attention until his ATV got stuck in that metal curve.

“STOP. LOOK. LISTEN.” He read angrily. “NOW you tell me!”

Then, he heard it. The train. Josh was on those tracks. He was a goner.

Iain heard the train blow an urgent whistle.

Suddenly his stuck ATV meant nothing. “Please, God,” he whispered, “let Josh be safe.”

His heart pounded as he heard the speeding train approach. Its whistle grew louder and more insistent. He squeezed the cold metal rail of the livestock chute.

He didn’t want to look.

In fact, he averted his eyes as the train roared past. He rested his head on the fence, holding back the tears.

Then he heard the low buzz of an ATV engine. He looked up to see Iain riding by on the tracks, AFTER the train, laughing and waving.

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My response to this week’s Unicorn Challenge: write a story based on the photograph, no more than 250 words.

“Once upon a time,” Dad began, “there were three chairs. Papa Chair, Mama Chair, and Baby Chair.”

“Chairs?” asked Junior, scrunching up his face.

“Yes, chairs,” Dad replied. He continued, “So Papa Chair said to Mama Chair –“

“Chairs don’t talk,” interrupted Junior.

“These chairs do,” Dad said. “Papa Chair said –“

“How can a chair talk? It doesn’t have a mouth,” said Junior.

“Maybe the wind whistles through the slats and makes a noise,” Dad explained.

“But then the chair has no control over it. It has to wait for the wind to come along.”

Dad sighed. “Just let me tell the story. Papa Chair said to Mama Chair, ‘How are you today?'”

“Maybe Papa Chair squeaked. Sometimes chairs squeak, right?” Junior interjected.

Dad ignored him. “Mama Chair didn’t answer, but Baby Chair said, ‘Can’t you see Mama Chair is a broken mess?'”

“Of course Papa Chair couldn’t see. Chairs don’t have eyes,” said Junior.

Dad continued, “Papa Chair didn’t know what to do! Baby Chair said, ‘Just call a committee.'”

“This is getting stupider, Dad,” Junior said.

Dad pretended not to hear. “Papa Chair said, ‘What committee? Why?’ Baby Chair said, ‘Any committee could help. They all have Chairmen.'”

“Yeah, well, when my chair broke, you just said that it was letting me down.” Junior said. “And then, you said that you had thought about replacing it with a rocking chair, but you kept going back and forth on it. Psssfftt… Dad jokes”

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Blame the Unicorn Challenge for this.