• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Home
  • Bio
  • Bookshelf
    • Audio
    • Complete List of Chautona’s Books
    • The Rockland Chronicles
      • The Vintage Wren
      • The Aggie Series
      • The Hartfield Mysteries
      • Sight Unseen Series
        • Sight Unseen Series Archives
      • The Agency Files
      • Christmas Fiction
    • Legacy of the Vines
    • Meddlin’ Madeline
      • Madeline Blog Archive
    • Ballads from the Hearth
      • Ballads from the Hearth Blog Archive
    • Legends of the Vengeance
    • Journey of Dreams
    • Wynnewood
    • Webster’s Bakery
    • The Not-So-Fairy Tales
    • Heart of Warwickshire
  • Start HERE
    • If You Like…
    • Characters
    • Suggested Reading Order
    • Free Books
  • Blog
  • Contact
  • Podcast
    • Advertising
    • Podcast Guest Information
    • Podcast Interview FAQ
  • Merch Shop
  • Nav Social Menu

    • Email
    • Facebook
    • Instagram
    • Pinterest
    • Twitter
    • YouTube
  • Bonus
  • Speaking
  • New & Coming
Chautona Havig

Chautona Havig

Using story to connect YOU to the Master Storyteller

Writing Prompt= Short Story

by Chautona Havig · 3 Comments

I don’t really know what they’re all about.  I’ve seen them mentioned in books about writing and figured they were ways to get you over writer’s block or something.  Since I’ve managed to escape that malady to date, I’ve never looked into them.

However, yesterday one of my new favorite blogs had a “Writing Prompt.”  So I did it.  I set my countdown timer for 15 minutes and wrote.  This is the result.  I noted where my timer went off in case you’re interested.  Obviously I didn’t get far, but that’s ok.  It was fun.  I might even do one again sometime.

The Card

Rusted at the corner with the door warped by years of use, the mailbox sat atop a weathered post looking somewhat forlorn in the fading afternoon sun.  A screen door shut with a soft “whap.”  The spring on that door wasn’t what it once was either.  Footfalls, more of a shuffle than true steps crept down the stone pavers to the dirt road and stopped at the mailbox.  The hinges creaked as the door opened and a wrinkled, arthritic hand reached inside.

The shuffle-step of life-worn feet returned to the house and once more, the screen door snapped shut.  The mail dropped on the seat of a padded rocker that looked jerked from the screenshots of a bad sitcom as the woman went to retrieve a glass of sweet tea and a couple of cookies.  The movements were fluid enough, even in the jerking actions of age and feebleness, that their routine was clearly evident.

The hand reached for the assortment of envelopes, catalogs, and flyers and grasped them as she lowered herself into the chair with speed that would be called anything but that.  The first envelope contained the assurance that if her number was the winning number, she had already won millions of dollars in the Tri-County News Group’s Sweepstakes.  She read every word and then tossed it.

One envelope was a political plea for support on some measure regarding the roads and a request for financial support from a candidate she wouldn’t vote for.  No siree.  His granddaddy had appropriated class funds back in ’47 and you just couldn’t trust one of those Willis’.  Still, she devoured every word before relegating it to the waste bin.  (Timer stopped here)

She passed over one envelope, her thumb caressing the return address, and moved onto the next.  Inside, a missionary prayer card showed her the picture of a family who had come through their church several months back—four children beamed at the camera, flanked on each side by parents who looked happy but old for their ages.  Suriname.  She’d never heard of it before they came to speak.  After a quick prayer for their safety and the souls they tried to reach, she tucked the card inside her Bible and read the letter that accompanied it—twice.

A car dealership promised great savings, top dollar for her trade-in, and free maintenance for five years if she came in by noon that day.  “That’s the way to make sure you don’t have to make good.  Just mail ‘em too late for people to use.”  The voice sounded over-loud and out of place in the utter silence of the house.

Each page of both catalogs received complete scrutiny.  The woman read every description of every item, mentally correcting grammar and punctuation as she went.  She wouldn’t buy anything.  Who could afford 49.99 for a t-shirt?  She remembered when she could get a Sealy mattress for less than that.

Eventually, only one envelope remained—nearly square in comparison with the other business envelopes, and unlike those, the addresses were handwritten in familiar handwriting.  She relished these days.  In an age of computers, email, and “texting,” no one took the time to write anymore.  For old folks like her, that usually meant reading the inconsequential words on uninteresting sheets of “junk mail” in order to have any contact with people.  Did they know there were people out there who read every single word simply because they knew someone had written them?  Did they know that alone in a house that no one of this generation would look at twice, an old woman waited impatiently, six days a week, for the rumble of the mail truck and the dust cloud that followed for her one brief daily contact from the outside world?

Tiffany Dearborn—her granddaughter.  She never forgot a holiday or a birthday.  Not once.  With infinite care, her trembling hands worked to loosen the sealed flap, cautious to protect the envelope and the paper-thin skin that sliced much too easily these days.  The last paper cut had gotten infected. It was ridiculous.

Pale blue eyes, clouded with happy tears pulled out the card.  A verse on the cover was surrounded by embossed flowers and butterflies.  She ran a finger over them, feeling the raised edge as she read the words—and again.  Once more.  Tiffany always did pick the best cards.  It was beautiful.

It happened every time.  She tried to draw out the moment—savor the experience—but her eagerness to read what was happening in the family’s life overrode her feeble attempt to make every second last.  She flipped open the card, smiling at a little at the short admonition to have a blessed Thanksgiving.  She would now.  The handwriting below it—the thing she’d waited for most—read, “So sorry to hear you won’t make it to the family dinner.  You’ll be missed.  We love you, Tiffany.”

She flipped the card over, lifted the folded paper, but no breezy, cheerful note about T-ball and PTA meetings fell into her lap.  The request for a recipe that came with every card was absent.  There was nothing—nothing but the assurance that she’d be missed because she couldn’t make the long drive to Smithville that year—not after her surgery next week.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

Share
Pin
Tweet
Email
Share
Pin
Tweet
Email

Related

Filed Under: Short Stories

Previous Post: « Blogging: the Ugly Truth
Next Post: Editing Schmediting »

Reader Interactions

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Or, you can subscribe without commenting.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Comments

  1. Dawn says

    May 10, 2012 at 1:13 pm

    Oh…sad ending! Poor old lady. I want to hug her.

    I love this — “Did they know there were people out there who read every single word simply because they knew someone had written them?”

    Thanks for the shout out. I love your blog too! Cool.

    Reply
  2. Chautona says

    May 8, 2012 at 11:36 am

    Then I accomplished my goal! I wanted to make us think.

    Reply
  3. Rebekah says

    May 8, 2012 at 7:15 am

    This is a story that makes you think. It was well written too! You did a good job – and all without ever even giving us a name.

    It makes me want to write the lady a letter myself.

    To the KING be all the glory!
    Rebekah

    Reply

Primary Sidebar

The Because Fiction Podcast

The Because Fiction Podcast
The Because Fiction Podcast

Taking the pulse of Christian fiction

Episode 265: A Chat with Karen Witemeyer
byChautona Havig

Nothing says fairy tale like a sweet western romance by an author like Karen Witemeyer… unless it’s a fairytale retelling set in Texas in the late 19th century, right?  Fairest of Heart takes the familiar “Snow White” and turns it on its head with retired cowboys, a self-absorbed actress, a Texas Ranger, and a sweet girl who knows the true Source of her beauty.  Listen in to see all the genius Easter eggs Witemeyer planted in this book.

Note: links may be affiliate links that provide me with a small commission at no extra expense to you.

Sometimes All a Girl Needs Is a True Change of Heart

I fell in love with the cover of Karen Witemeyer’s Head Over Heels a few years back (only to learn it’s much older than that, even), and meant to read that book.  I didn’t.  #BecauseIdiot. Well, that’ll be rectified just as soon as I’m done listening to her first book in a trilogy of fairytale retellings. I loaded it up on my Audible app tonight and wheeeeeeee. Here I go! So much for no new books until October. HA! 

Karen talks about her heart for young women today and how they’re taught by every bit of media blasting at them that they need to use their bodies to get what they need or want when the Lord has a better plan. And I can’t guarantee it, but I strongly suspect she does it without preaching. SQUEE!

Fairest of Heart by Karen Witemeyer

Once upon a time in Texas . . .

Beauty has been nothing but a curse to Penelope Snow. When she becomes a personal maid for a famous actress whose troupe is leaving Chicago to tour the West, she hides her figure beneath shapeless dresses and keeps her head down. But she still manages to attract the wrong attention, leaving her prospects in tatters–and her jealous mistress plotting her demise.

After his brother lost his life over a woman, Texas Ranger Titus Kingsley has learned to expect the worst from women and is rarely disappointed. So when a young lady found in suspicious circumstances takes up residence with the seven old drovers living at his grandfather’s ranch, Titus is determined to keep a close eye on her.

With a promotion hanging in the balance, Titus is assigned to investigate a robbery case tied to Penelope’s acting troupe, and all evidence points to Penelope’s guilt. But Titus might just be convinced that the fairest woman of all has a heart as pure as her last name . . . if only he can prove it.

You can learn more about Karen Witemeyer and her books on her WEBSITE. Don’t forget the book is 30% off on BakerBookHouse.com.  

Follow Karen on BookBub and GoodReads.

And don’t forget her Posse Group on Facebook.

Like to listen on the go? You can find Because Fiction Podcast at:

  • Apple 
  • Castbox 
  • Google Play
  • Libsyn 
  • RSS
  • Spotify
  • Amazon
  • and more!
Episode 265: A Chat with Karen Witemeyer
Episode 265: A Chat with Karen Witemeyer
September 29, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 264: A Chat with Romance Author, Sarah Monzon
September 26, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 263: A Chat about The Love Script w/ Toni Shiloh
September 23, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 262: Chatting about The Legacy of Longdale Manor with Carrie Turansky
September 19, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 261: Chatting with Christian Youth Fiction Author, Candice Yamnitz
September 15, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 260: A Chat with Rachel Hauck
September 12, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 259: A Chat with Debut Author, Laura Conaway
September 8, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 258: A Louisiana Christmas to Remember
September 2, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 257: A Chat with Fantasy Author, N. Ford
September 1, 2023
Chautona Havig
Episode 256: A Chat about Summer in the Spotlight w/ Liz Johnson
August 29, 2023
Chautona Havig
Search Results placeholder

Love Audio Books?

audio book ad

Check out the Sparrow Island novels. A tiny island with a lot of heart

independence islands series

Featured Books

A Ransomed Grete

A Ransomed Grete
Buy This Book Online
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Amazon Kindle
A Ransomed Grete
Buy now!

Twice Sold Tales

Twice Sold Tales
Buy This Book Online
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Amazon Kindle
Twice Sold Tales
Buy now!

Under the Hibiscus

Under the Hibiscus
Buy This Book Online
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Amazon Kindle
Under the Hibiscus
Buy now!

Upcoming Posts

Sorry - nothing planned yet!

Or just subscribe to the newsletter

Recent Blog Posts

  • What Would Make a Tropical Vacation More Exciting? Find Out!
  • Sometimes All a Girl Needs Is a True Change of Heart
  • How Does an Intense Christmas Competition Lead to Love?

I buy my stickers here! (affiliate)

Custom Stickers, Die Cut Stickers, Bumper Stickers - Sticker Mule
Just another hour... Tea is Pumpkin Masala Chai fr Just another hour...
Tea is Pumpkin Masala Chai from Marcella's Enchanted Cottage and blueberry cinnamon roll courtesy of #6daughter
, @andralane0129 
#AmReading 
#AnnetoberReadAThon 
@teri_blake_author 
#womensfiction
Yum... seriously the best beef ever. So glad we go Yum... seriously the best beef ever. So glad we got some,  but so many missed out. 
Thanks @robsogbbq
Instagram post 18282011413151971 Instagram post 18282011413151971
If you haven't read Seek and Hide by @amandagsteve If you haven't read Seek and Hide by @amandagstevens , stop everything and order this book. Then schedule dinner delivery the day it arrives and dive in. Chilling,  inspiring,  and proof that Amanda is a stellar Storyteller.
#AmReading 
#ChristFic
Reposted from @beccawierwille Less than one month Reposted from @beccawierwille Less than one month until release day for Road Trip Rescue! 🚘 🐶 Mark your calendars for Tuesday, October 24 to help me celebrate sending this story into the world. 

Also, prepare for more posts than normal. I’m excited to launch this book. 🥳
I think the moon is embracing autumn, too. I think the moon is embracing autumn,  too.
Reposted from @lisaphillipsbks Woot! Happy release Reposted from @lisaphillipsbks Woot! Happy release day, @lovereadwriterepeat
  • Home
  • Bookshelf
  • New & Coming
  • Blog
  • News!
  • Disclosure & Policies
  • Privacy Policy

Copyright © 2023 · Chautona Havig · All Rights Reserved · Coding by Gretchen Louise

Don't go before you grab your FREE short story collection!