Field Trip

Everything was packed and ready to go the night before. Backpack filled with snacks, change of clothes, headphones, and cell phone charger – the only things a teenager needs for an overnight school field trip.

The alarm blasted through the house for five minutes before Brandon groggily stumbled out of bed to turn it off. It had to be across the room or else he would ignore it and go back to sleep. His parents rushed around the kitchen, preparing work lunches and a last minute bag of snacks to hold Brandon over until he got home the following evening.

Brandon looked at his mother and shook his head. She always made such a big deal about everything. It didn’t matter to him if he had snacks or not. His friends would always give him something.

“Hurry up,” she said, after his father left for work. “We have to get you to school for the bus!”

“It’s too early!” Brandon complained, fighting to get his jacket on. “Why’d you have to get me up so early.”

She paused and looked at the time. “You’re always going to school at this time.”


“So, get ready!”

“Ugh! Fine! I don’t know why you make –”

“You are the one who signed up for the before school class! Not me! Car! Now!”

Even though his mother was quite smart, she often forgot how to speak complete sentences when she was losing her patience with him. Brandon looked at her and sighed. Three more years and he wouldn’t have to put up with her anymore.

“Now, you have everything?” she asked as he opened the car door at his school.

“Yes, mother. Stop! Geeze! Why are you do dramatic?” He got out and slammed the door.

She rolled down the passenger window and called out, “text me when you stop for lunch.”

She waited for a response that she knew would never come. As he walked away, she couldn’t help wonder what happened to the little boy that never wanted to leave her side. She sighed. Mothers never know what they have when they are busy wiping food puree off the walls or debating over the need to take a bath.

Three hours later, she sat on the couch and sighed. His room was finally cleaned and didn’t smell like a safari campsite anymore. How could one boy make a room that stinky was beyond her. She looked at the time on her phone and tutted. She knew he wouldn’t text her at lunch. She texted him instead.

“How’s the trip so far?”


“That’s good. Are you getting lunch?”

“Yep Wendy’s”

“Well, at least you like their fries :)”


“You’ll have fun. Are others having fun?”

“Not anymore”

“Why? What happened?”

“Someone choked”

“OMG! A student? Are they okay?”

“Yeah it was a student”

“Are they okay?”


“No? What do you mean no?”

“They died”


“Just now They were laughing with their friends and choked”



“What do you mean sorry?”


“For what? CALL ME!”

“It was me”

“What was you? What are you talking about? Call me RIGHT NOW!”

“Can’t It was me”

“What do you mean it was you? Brandon? What’s wrong?”

“You were a great mother Sorry about everything I love you”


“Can’t It was me I died I choked I”

His mother’s phone rang but went to voicemail before she could answer it. The display read Harvey County Public High School.






3-2-1 Quote Me – Truth

It’s a great day when I get tagged on quizzes or fun things like this!

A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip created the 3-2-1 Quote Me game with the following rules:

  1. Thank the Selector
  2. Post 2 quotes for the dedicated Topic of the Day.
  3. Select 3 bloggers to take part in ‘3.2.1 Quote Me!’

There is no deadline for participating in the game, which makes it perfect for everyone.

Today’s topic is truth.

Wow…that’s a humdinger of a topic, but thankfully I don’t have to really come up with anything for it, except to quote others.

The first quote I have comes from Dr. King (I have never really understood why so many people refuse to acknowledge his PhD. from Boston University). On a side note, it amazes me how many people do not give him credit for being something more than a Reverend. He never finished high school, that is true, but only because he started college at 15. He earned his undergraduate degree in sociology in 1948. He often said that it was his exposure to Thoreau in college that inspired him to pursue the path he did. He found a calling in his church and, in 1955, earned his PhD. in Theology. That is no simple feat – then or today.

Quote #1 – Dr. King

I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.

For my second quote, I could write about how some individuals in power wouldn’t know the truth if it came notarized and written in blood, but I won’t. I could write about how some people wouldn’t know the truth if God, himself, told them, but I won’t. And I could write about how some people have deluded themselves so much that they can’t even tell the truth from a lie when it comes from their own lips, but I won’t.

Instead, I will leave you with this quote from Winston Churchill:

The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is.

My Nominees:

Since this is a “proper” fun challenge, I will actually tag three people, who are under no obligation to participate of course, but I think they may:

This, That, and The Other
Welcome to Our Campfire
Sparks from a Combustible Mind


A Patchwork of Love

The kids laughed and pointed, but I never cared. When we were supposed to be playing Red Rover, Red Rover, they’d call Patchy, Patchy whenever it was my turn to come over. I would smile and run over as if Patchy was my name. I loved it.

Mama made my clothes from scraps that friends and family gave her. My shirt was part Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Lucy, and even Baby Joseph. My pants were part Dad, a little Grace, and a whole lot of Uncle Hal.

The more they called me Patchy, the more I felt my family’s love.

This 99-word story was written for the Carrot Ranch’s Flash Fiction Challenge: scraps

Look Over There

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Settle down, class,” Miss Travis said. She shook her head at the boys in the back giggling at the spray painted penis on the other side of the creek. “Boys!”

“Sorry, Miss.”

She opened the pamphlet and started reading, “On this spot in 1728, two men gathered to discuss freedom and what it would mean to the colonies.”


“Jeffery, I’m not going to tell you again to keep your opinions to yourself.”

“Freedom comes in many forms,” she continued. She looked at the students. “Yeah, it’s boring. Want to go see where someone was murdered?”

This 99-words story was inspired by the picture and written for Friday Fictioneers.