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Jamie’s Spirit – A 100 Word Story

 

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Jamie’s Spirit

Jamie roamed the streets flashing her body at slow moving cars.  She is hungry as are the other woman and men who walks these streets; some are children of mothers and fathers who pray for their safety and their souls.  There are winners and losers on these streets; the winners give a piece of their spirit.  The losers that could not pay sometimes take what they want without remorse.  Jamie decided to call her parents, her father answered; screamed “harlot” into the phone and hung up.  His only child’s crying will end tonight with a ride in an undertaker’s hearse.   

 

 

2016.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Author’s Note:  Dear followers I know that my posting are few during these past weeks, however I am fighting an illness and hope to be back to writing on a regular basis as soon as possible; thank you for your patience.  Elizabeth Ann

 

 

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Choices – A 100 Word Story

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Choices

A roar of thunder melds with a coming storm, Tom Thornton’s heart is stone; he knows that because he feels nothing.  His wife’s veins once flowed with a passionate fire; now the crimson liquid spread across the floor.  Doors locked, a decision had to be made and quickly.  His life also ended when he would not let Sarah leave.  His heart will never soften; he will never feel the heat of Sarah’s fire again.  The police and ambulance sirens filter into the house.  He sat on the bed asking, “God, will I go to Heaven if I choose to die”?

 

 

©2016.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Books at Amazon.com

Coffee Table Books – 8 X 11

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On a Blue Bird Day

It is spring, warm breezes float through magnolia trees.  A gracious woman of the South rises from past memories; her thoughts behind the ice blue eyes. She sits on the bank of a pebbly brook under a Blue Bird sky, the scent of lilac rises from her starched dress.  She dips her fingers slowly into the cool water; she is old and life has passed her by, and the depths of her truth never known.  In her secret place of selfishness her hate for an unwanted child; she stops to ponder her own question; does she deserve the name “Mother”.

 

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#9391…A 100 Word Story

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#9391

It was July 1915 and Annabelle stared out the window.  Beyond the bars lay the tombstones covered with dead leaves and vine, each inscribes with nothing but a number; the records might have given the names of those beneath the red southern soil.

She knew that there were no tomorrows.  A marriage of happiness ended with a disobedient act against her husband.  It was his right to put her in an asylum for the insane and the disobedient.  Yesterday’s promises were over; the “Consumption” as they called it would soon take her life.  The small 12X12 stone would read “#9391”.

 

©2016.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Revenge – A 100 Word Story

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Revenge

Doctors looked down at the young girl in her drugged sleep; her pillow wet with tears shed before the medicine took effect placing her in a coma.  Her face innocence even though she had lived a nightmare: she would sleep until her broken body and mind could heal.  Her attacker had taken her for self-indulgence and  pleasure.  Andrew “Stubby” Bodine’s type was always on the prowl; always taking from others; especially young girls.  He did see the angry mob coming in their flatboats. Mary Jane Ayres would heal while her abductor hangs from a Swamp Oak in Louisiana’s Atchafalaya Swamp. 

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Ann Johnson-Murphree

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RUTTED ROADS AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE

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Rutted Roads available at Amazon.com click on the purchase books tab at the top of the site to order.

Thank you for following this blog and the interest in my poetry.   eajm

 
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Posted by on May 4, 2016 in Book Promotion

 

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COMING SOON…

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Dedicated to my daughter Charlotte Jean Murphree

1958 – 2010

The Voice 

From me you shall hear

Trampling of insistent voices of those

Whispering in my ear. They

Are fierce, burning with passion, their

Messages clear.

They speak to me with the force of a

Turbulent sea, other times with the

Surge of the tide, and always with

Respect; within me, they reside.

Ann Johnson-Murphree

I will not say that this is my final book of poetry; however, it will be the last until I have pursued my other interest in writing personal and fiction.  I have been on a journey; it has taken me from depths of a bottomless abyss, the path I walked was jagged and brutal both mentally and physically.  The trip is documented in my poetry, it came from deep within my soul and my spirit survived.  The healing continues, an ongoing process that will never end; but today, I can breathe.  I have held my breath too long as I walked these rutted roads; and must now set out on a new path.  I have chosen to begin a new “Story”.

I will continue to blog daily with my own work or reblog in support of my wonderful loyal followers.   I will post when Rutted Roads is published.  

 
 

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