Clemency

spf-12-9-18-fandango-3

Photo Credit: Fandango

I stood there, gazing at the city across the bay.  Somewhere in that concrete jungle was the prison where I spent fifteen years before I was granted clemency and released on parole.  It felt good to be standing there in the open, the sun hitting my face and listening to the lapping water.   It felt good not being behind bars.

When I turned sixteen, I never thought I’d wind up in prison.  My life changed when I killed Mick, the man who forced me to prostitute myself.  I was a victim of sex trafficking but I was treated like a criminal and sentenced to life, a sentence which the governor now considers to be too harsh.  Thanks to the celebrities who came to my defense, I’m standing here now.

I didn’t want to kill Mick but I feared for my life.  He would have killed me that night if I hadn’t defended myself.  I don’t hate him.  It wouldn’t do me any good.  I want to focus on rebuilding my life.  While in prison, I earned my Associate’s Degree.  I know that opportunity came from God.  I thought my life was over but, it’s not.

195 Words

This story was inspired by the true story of Cyntoia Brown who was arrested and charged with homicide of Johnny Allen who offered to have paid sex with her.  She was accused of murder and robbery and sentenced to life.  

This was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit Here.  To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Advertisements

A Simple Peasant Girl/Honour #writephoto

knight

Photo by Sue Vincent

Far hath I come to be at thy side,

my heart my sole and trusted guide

To place upon thy breast this red rose, plucked this morn, a token of my love

Beside the note that praises thee for thy services to king, country and God above.

I stand here, gazing upon thy countenance, me a simple peasant girl who won thy heart

While thou wert alive, we swore that nothing but the death could keep us apart.

Rest now, my brave knight. Yes, close thine eyes,

For when next thou awakeneth, with me, thou shalt be in Paradise.

 

This was written in response to the Thursday Photo Prompt at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.  For more details click here.

No Fear

photo-20190107153120066

Photo by Jodi McKinney

I’m lying here in prison, sentenced to three years for holding a Bible Study. My family and friends warned me to be careful because of an ongoing crackdown on believers. I and five other believers were taken into custody because our Bible Study didn’t have the government’s approval. When I was on trial, I was accused of “gathering a crowd to disturb public order.”

Three years doesn’t seem like a long time but I’m counting the days until I’m free again. I pray and draw strength from the apostle Paul who didn’t let being in prison get him down. He wasn’t alone. God was with him. He’s with me too.

I close my eyes now and imagine I’m outside of these walls, holding a Bible Study in a field, under a beautiful blue sky.  When I leave here, I’ll return to worshipping God and leading others to Him.  I’m not afraid of what the government could do to me.  Nothing short of death will stop me now.

 

167 Words

I was inspired by a true story of a Chinese Christian Woman who was sentenced to three years in prison after holding Bible Study.

This was written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy and Joe. For more information visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  The Gospel Herald

For Dabir’s Sake

bokeh-priya-bajpal

PHOTO PROMPT © Priya Bajpal

Aleena let herself into the home she once shared with her teenage son, Dalir, her heart heavy. Leaning against the door for a moment, her misty eyes espied the table where she kept the shells Dabir collected. It was something he loved doing whenever he went to the beach.

A sob rose in her throat. Dabir was gone. He’d died in the fire at the factory where he worked because the exits were blocked. Today, the court ruled in favor of the company. She was bitterly disappointed but vowed, “I won’t give up. I’ll continue to fight for Dabir’s sake.”

100 Words

This story was inspired by a true event where a mother lost her teenage son in a factory fire because there was no where for him to exit.  The court ruled against her and the other plaintiffs although she believed that they had a strong case.   She felt that the German retailer KiK was responsible and should apologize.   Over 250 people died because the safety standards were blatantly violated by the factory owners.  The emergency exits were blocked or locked.

This was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields For more details, visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  DW

Change/Renewal #writephoto

morn-005

Photo by Sue Vincent

I stare out of the window at the sky which looks like it is on fire.  I have never seen anything like it before and I linger for a little while, forgetting for a brief moment my daily struggle to feed three young children and my sick husband.  I push all thoughts of my brothers and their families who are currently enjoying themselves in Tunisia’s Mediterranean coast.  I suppress the bitterness and anger that struggle to rise to the surface as I try not to think about them using my inheritance money for their vacation.

My brothers pressured me to give up my small inheritance entirely.  I could do with that money right now.  They’re spending it on travel while I’m stuck here, taking care of my family.  I should be relaxing on a beach somewhere.  Everyday, I get up, cook, clean, and whatever needs to be done in this house, no matter how tired I am.  My brothers don’t care about me.

Until things change in this country, women like me are going to continue to feel helpless and bitter because of gender inequality in inheritance.  Whereas daughters inherit half of the estate, sons inherit twice as much.   I inherited half because I’m a sole daughter.  Had I sisters, collectively, we would each inherit two thirds.  That hardly seems fair.  When are things going to change?  When is there going to be gender equality in inheritance?

I hear the baby crying.  I wish I could spend a longer time watching the sunrise but duty calls.  I turn and after going over to the bed to check on my husband, I leave the room to tend to our daughter.  I hope that by the time she becomes an adult that there will finally be a change where she will be granted equal inheritance rights.

This story was inspired by an article I read.  In Tunisia, there is a law which limits daughters’ inheritance rights and provides that sons inherit twice as much as daughters.  Equality Now is taking action to change this.

This was written in response to the Thursday Photo Prompt at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.  For more details click here.

Source:  Equality Now

 

Margot’s Good Samaritan

spf-january-6-2019-ce-ayr

Photo Credit: CE Ayr

She was dressed in a grey sweatsuit with the hood covering her head. Chestnut hair framed a heart shaped face slightly smudged with dirt. People saw and pitied her, shaking their heads and criticizing the government for not doing anything about the homeless problem. Some gave her money or scraps of food while others ignored her entirely.

He saw her every day. She reminded him of his sixteen year old daughter. Today, he was going to give her his breakfast.  He found her going through one of the bins.  She started when she saw him.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. Here, take this.” He held out the paper bag.

She stared at it for a moment before grabbing it. She eagerly reached her hand in. In a matter of minutes, she devoured the sandwiches. When she was finished eating, he gave her the orange juice.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

“Margot.”

“What are you doing here, Margot?”

“My mother kicked me out.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t want me around anymore.”

“That’s rough. You can’t stay here, though.”

“Where can I go?”

“There’s a shelter at the corner.”

She looked unsure.

“I’ll take you there.”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

 

199 Words

This was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit Here.  To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Some Friend

f435ef6a490c1e14141c059fdce5ead9She was walking to work when she spotted Dexter’s car.  He didn’t see her.  Even if he did, what would he do?  She couldn’t imagine him telling the driver to stop so that he could talk to her.  Perhaps if Meghan was with her, he would.  It was a slap in the face when they went out for dinner one night, he was a little too attentive to her friend.  And what made it worse was Meghan flirted with him.  Their friendship cooled considerably after that.  It hurt knowing that the two people she cared for and trusted the most were seeing each other.

I have to move on, she thought.  I have to get over him.  There were other men out there.  She just had to figure out where to meet them.  Or maybe she should wait on the Lord as her mother advised her to do.  Maybe she should just enjoy being single and when the time was right for her to meet someone, it would happen.  She could do other things in the meantime like travel, enroll in an arts or crafts class, take up a new hobby or volunteer.  The possibilities were endless.

She was fine with being single.  And it didn’t matter that the man she still carried a torch for had just gone by in his chauffeur driven car.  It would be weeks before she saw him again.  She was fine with that.  Her pace quickened.  She had a busy day ahead of her and was determined not to let anything distract her.  As she was nearing the office building, her cell rang.  She fished inside her bag for it.  When she saw the number on the display, her heart skipped a beat.  It was him.  She answered.  “Hello.”

“Hello, Lonette.  Hope I’m not calling you at a bad time.”

“Actually, I’m my way to work.”

“Sorry.  I won’t keep you long.  I was wondering if you’d have lunch with me today.”

She considered that for a moment.  Why did he want to have lunch with her?  Did it have something to do with Meghan?  The last thing she needed was to sit there and listen to him talk about her former friend.  Did Meghan ask him to invite her to lunch so that he could convince her to patch things up with her?  “I can’t,” she said.  “It’s going to be a busy day for me.”

“How about dinner this evening?”

“Sorry, that’s out too.”

“What about tomorrow?  Are you free for either lunch or dinner?”

“No.”

“Are you giving me the brush off, Lonette?”

“No, I’m not,” she protested quickly, too quickly.

“Yes, you are.  Is it because of Meghan?”

“I was wondering when we were going to get around to talking about her.”

“You know there’s nothing going on between us.”

Really?  Well, that’s not what I heard.”

“Whatever you heard, it isn’t true.  I’m not interested in Meghan.  I never was.”

“When we went out for dinner, you didn’t act like you weren’t interested.”

“I know how it might have looked to you, but I swear to you that I was just trying to be nice to her for your sake.”

“What do you mean that you were just trying to be nice to her?”

He sighed.  “I don’t how to say this so I’ll just come right out and say it.  I don’t like Meghan.  I tried to get along with her for your sake and that’s why I was trying to be nice to her when the three of us were together.  I didn’t expect her to flirt with me.  I’m sorry about that.”

Lonette was inside the lobby now.  She didn’t go into the elevator but went into the sitting area.  She sat down on one of the plush leather chairs.  “Someone said that they saw you with her a couple of weeks ago.”

“I was at The Keg waiting for a client when she came over.  She sat down at the table.  I didn’t want to be rude or draw attention so I told her as politely as I could to leave.  She refused to budge until my client joined us.   She had no choice but to leave but before she did, she said that she couldn’t understand how I could be attracted to you.  She said that was why she liked being friends with you.  She didn’t have to worry about high quality men liking you instead of her.  That’s the woman you thought was your friend.  If you don’t believe me, I can give you the number of my client.”

Lonette sighed.  “No, that won’t be necessary.  I still can’t have lunch with you but I’m free for dinner tonight.”

“Good.  I’ll pick you up at seven.  I can’t wait to see you, Lonette.”

“I can’t wait to see you too.”  She rang off and remained sitting there for a few minutes.  What Meghan said stung.  She had no idea that was how she felt about her.  No wonder she didn’t have a problem flirting with Dexter.  She knew I was crazy about him and she still flirted with him.  Some friend she turned out to be.  And to think I almost threw away my chance for happiness because of her.  Furious, she deleted Meghan’s number from her cell before getting up and hurrying to the elevator.