Jillian Chantal

This week, the authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to a picture prompt. These posts are limited to 300 words.

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

Sophronia glanced around at their surroundings. “The place is a lot bigger than I realized. The sign says the office is closed on weekends. How will we find the grave we’re looking for without a site map?”

“We’ll just roam around. Start on one side and stroll around.” Alice touched Sophronia’s arm. “If you can walk that much.”

“Walking is much easier than sitting at this point in my life.”

“Watch out for tree roots. I see a lot of oaks out here.”

“Lord knows I can’t afford to fall again.”

“You didn’t fall in the first place, doll. Remember, you were shoved by a greedy, nasty woman.”

Sophronia laughed as she stepped through the open gates. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I really feel like I want to karate chop her into next week.” She pointed to her right. “Let’s go this way first.”

“I’ll follow you and take the next row up.” As she uttered the words, a cool breeze wafted over her. “Wait a sec.”

Alice turned, concern etched on her face. “Are you hurting, are you in pain, do we need to get you home?”

“No, no, and no. I’ve been overtaken with a strong urge to go in that direction.” She tilted her head toward the left back area of the cemetery. An overpowering sense of being right led her to quicken her pace. The urgency sent her almost flying over a tree stump.

“Slow down, Soph. You’re going to break more than a tailbone if you don’t watch where you’re going.”

It’s Tuesday Tales day again. This week, the authors in the group are writing to the word prompt push. I am still in my contemporary paranormal story.

check out the other tales here

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’ve really pulled a number on yourself. Tell you what. You and Haydn will stay at my place tonight. We’ll grab the dog, get you some clothes, his bowls and food and we’ll have a good old girl’s night. No boys allowed—except the canine kind. How’s that? It’ll give you time to decompress.”

Sophronia looked up and nodded. “You’re right. I don’t need to be alone with my thoughts of the boogeyman. It’ll be fun.”

She opened her door. “Let me get the mutt out of hock and we’ll be on our way.”

The expression on Alice’s face told Sophronia all she needed to know. Her friend was really worried about her. Her compassion made Sophronia tear up. She sniffed back the tears and headed to the daycare entrance.

By the time they made it back to the small apartment Sophronia rented over the garage of an elderly lady’s house, she was calmer and ready to stay at her own place.

“You know, I think Haydn and I will just go on up and lock the door. I was being silly and paranoid. We’ll be fine.”

The dog poked his head between the seats and panted in her ear.

“No can do. You have to take me home anyway, so might as well stay when we get there. I think there’s a bottle of Prosecco calling our names. I can hear it from here.” Alice scratched Hayden’s head. “Right, boy? You can hear it to, can’t you?”

Haydn let out a little woof.

Alice turned to Sophronia and grinned. “See, even he agrees with me. Come on. Let’s get your stuff.”

Sophronia turned off the car. When Alice was in one of these moods, it was best just to obey. “All right. A glass of wine sounds good about now.”

“Tsk, Haydn, she doesn’t want our company.  She wants to get sloshed.”

Although that wasn’t true, Sophronia let it go. “Let’s do this, then.” She opened the door and made her way to the outside staircase up to her cozy place.

Haydn followed at a gallop, almost knocking her over. “Settle down, boy. Snack time is coming.”

At the top of the stairs, Sophronia screeched to a halt. Her door was ajar.

She stopped so fast, Alice ran right into her. “What’s wrong?”

Sophronia stepped aside and pointed. “I left that closed and locked.”

“Let me go in first.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police? Let them check the inside in case whoever it was is still inside?”

“If someone was in there, don’t you think Haydn would be going nuts? I think it’s safe.” Alice looked down at the dog. “See? He’s still only interested in a snack.”

If she’d been home alone, Sophronia never would have agreed to this, but since her pet seemed content—other than impatient for his treat—and Alice was there, she shrugged. “All right, but I’ve got my phone in my hand.” She dialed 911, but didn’t push send. “If I see anything amiss, I’m calling for help.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word, stuff. I am still working on my NaNoWriMo novel.

Check out the other tales here.

Alice wasn’t paying the least bit of attention. She was still staring at Matthew.

He was looking at her, too. “I go on break in about five minutes. Would you like to have coffee in the cafe with me?”

Before Alice could respond, Sophronia asked, “Can you please set me up with those books you mentioned before you go on break.” Leave it to Alice to make a conquest. Just when I need her to help me do this research.

“Sure, sure. Sorry.” Matthew stood and moved to the other side of his desk.

Sophronia let out a groan. Great. He’s tall and has exactly the body type Alice likes. Nice, veined forearms and a strong thigh. She’d be useless the rest of the day. Good grief. Who knew my friend’s ideal man would be hiding upstairs at the library? And be a professional researcher at that. It’d be laughable, if it wasn’t a tragic end to Sophronia’s desire to be productive in learning about her newly acquired home.

Matthew appeared concerned as he looked down his height at her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“The way you groaned just then made it sound like you were in great pain.”

“Oh no. I’m was thinking about something and didn’t mean to verbalize that.” Sophronia tried to laugh it off, but knew she better be more careful or Alice would call her out on it. Sometimes, it wasn’t good to have been friends for so many years.  Reading each other’s minds could be hazardous. Alice wasn’t the most discreet of people and could very well blurt out that Sophronia was more worried about Alice’s actions than her own. But surely she wouldn’t. It would lead to embarrassing herself. Surely.

“Let’s find those books.” Matthew led the way to the stacks.

Alice poked Sophronia in the ribs as they followed along. “Don’t blow my chances with him,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” Matthew said over his shoulder.

Looking at Sophronia in horror, Alice shook her head.

“Nothing. Alice was just saying”—another poke in the ribs, this one harder—“she sure needs that cup of coffee you offered. She loves the stuff. It’s like the elixir of life for her.”

Even more horrified by the expression on her face, Alice sucked in a breath. “I’ll get you for that.”

Giggling to herself that now Alice would have to drink the dreaded caffeine she hated, Sophronia stepped up her pace, catching up with Matthew. Serve Alice right for abandoning their project over a man. A pretty man for sure, but she’d promised to help. Not that Sophronia begrudged a flirtation, but the call of that book in the attic was still humming in her and she wanted some answers.  Maybe the interior design book would show the room she was most interested in.

It’s Tuesday again: time for more Tuesday Tales. The word of the week for the writers of TT is sick. I am working on my contemporary paranormal and this book is taking me off on tangents like no other had ever done. I foresee a lot of tinkering with this one when I get to the editing stage. 🙂

Be sure to check out the other tales here

The library had long been one of Sophronia’s favorite places in town. It was in an old building downtown that had clearly been someone’s home in the past. It was a massive structure but still held the air of the seat of a prominent family that held vast properties but made the place where they resided into a cozy place to entertain as well as to live their day to day lives.

Each room downstairs was at least 16 x 16 in square footage and, now that the building was being used as the town library, each of the areas were lined with shelves of deep mahogany and there were numerous wooden tables and chairs placed in the open spaces.

Sophronia sighed. Content to be in this beloved building. She’d spent many an hour hear browsing and reading as she grew up. This was why she loved her job so much. The love for books was instilled in her between these very walls.

“You look like you could live here,” Alice said.

“I think I could, actually. It’s my happy place. All this knowledge just waiting for people to reach out and take it. Take it home, use it and bring it back. All free.” Sophronia grinned. “Or just to stay here and move from book to book until they close for the night. Either way, it’s as gift.”

“Girl, you are sick in the head. Who loves libraries like that beside you?”

“Look around.” Sophronia pointed to a guy with shoulder-length black hair seated at a table with a girl—with a sleeve of colorful tattoos, six earrings in the ear they could see as well as a nose ring—leaning over his shoulder. They were poring over some large book open on the table in front of them. “They look like they might love this place.” She tilted her head to an elderly man seated in one of the few leather chairs strewn about the room. “He’s studying an old newspaper. I bet he loves coming here and reading about the past.”

Alice held her hands up in surrender. “Stop. Stop. Point taken.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure about them loving it.  Maybe the guy and girl are doing a project for school and have to be here.”

“Nonsense. Look at how they’re smiling as they look at the book. I think it’s a map book. Maybe they’re planning a trip. Or honeymoon.” Sophronia sighed again. They did look happy. “And surely, you can’t think that man who is eighty if he’s a day, is studying for school.”

“You never know.” Alice laughed, drawing a “shh” from the librarian at the checkout desk.

“And that right there is why I don’t like libraries. Being chastened like a child, “Alice whispered.

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to picture prompts. We are limited to 300 words each. I am still working on my National Novel Writing Month story. It’s a contemporary set in an allegedly haunted house. Our heroine and her dog, along with her friend, have been in the house and experienced some creepy stuff. Sorry I am limited to 300 words so you might be lost here. 🙂

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

“We’re going to go to that coffee shop I saw on our way here. We’re going to eat breakfast and think about all this. There has to be an explanation.”

Sophronia had never seen Alice this way in all the years she’d known her. She was clearly rattled by the events of the day—as well as the banging noises that were about to send Sophronia into orbit—but Alice was nothing if not logical. She would want all this to make sense when all Sophronia wanted was to sit in that turreted room with the flashlight and study that book. Without the sound effects and snake, of course.

Downstairs, Haydn finally appeared to relax. He followed them to Alice’s car in silence. Sophronia was glad he at least wasn’t looking at her as if he was afraid of her—or for her.

She made a point of kneeling by him at the car and patting him. “Good boy. You did well in there. You’re my sweetie. I love you.” She snuggled against his huge head and held him for a few moments.

“If you’re done messing with that creature, let’s go eat. I’m starving.” Alice slid into the driver’s seat as Sophronia opened the door to let Haydn hop in.

As they drove away, she peeked over her shoulder to see if she saw anyone in the window as she had to day before. No one. Only the feeling she needed to stay behind with the book lingered.

They each ordered a breakfast sandwich at the cafe with Alice getting a chai tea and Sophronia a large black coffee and a bottle of water to pour in Haydn’s travel bowl.

Tis time for Tuesday Tales again. I have left the Christmas story for now and am working on my 12th NaNoWrimo story. It is called Sophronia. The name comes from my great-grandmother on my maternal line- she was my grandfather’s mother and died about three years before I was born. I always loved her name so decided to use it for this book. Our word we’re writing to this week is shoe.

Check out the other tales here

At the top of the stairs, Sophronia screeched to a halt. Her door was ajar.

She stopped so fast, Alice ran right into her. “What’s wrong?”

Sophronia stepped aside and pointed. “I left that closed and locked.”

“Let me go in first.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police? Let them check the inside in case whoever it was is still inside?”

“If someone was in there, don’t you think Haydn would be going nuts? I think it’s safe.” Alice looked down at the dog. “See? He’s still only interested in a snack.”

If she’d been home alone, Sophronia never would have agreed to this, but since her pet seemed content—other than impatient for his treat—and Alice was there, she shrugged. “All right, but I’ve got my phone in my hand.” She dialed 911, but didn’t push send. “If I see anything amiss, I’m calling for help.”

“Run first, okay?” Alice said.

“Got it.” The more she thought about it, the safer Sophronia felt. They’d been on the tiny landing for a few moments now and if anyone was still inside, they would’ve heard them by now. Hopefully.

Alice pushed the door open with her shoe.

Haydn galloped in without a second’s hesitation.

Sophronia followed behind the two of them praying that no one was inside with a gun ready to defend themselves from the return of the homeowner.

The place was basically one room and a bathroom. No one was in the main part of the apartment. Alice tiptoed to the bathroom and pushed the door in with her shoulder.

“No one.” She turned back to Sophronia. “Anything missing?”

Sophronia glanced around. The place was immaculate—other than some dog hair the Roomba hadn’t gotten yet.  “I don’t see anything out of place. Maybe I didn’t lock the door after all and the wind blew it open.”

“That’s crazy. Someone had to have been here. Let’s look in your drawers. See if they’ve been disturbed.”

The dresser drawers did show someone had rifled through them. Sophronia’s neatly arranged sock and under garment drawer had been tossed.

She moved to her desk. The papers on top had been slightly shuffled. She also noticed her laptop had been opened and moved slightly to one side. “Good thing that’s encrypted. Whoever it was probably tried to get in. Wonder why they didn’t take it.”

“Trying to be subtle, I guess. I’m glad you aren’t staying here tonight.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt fly. I am still working on the Regency Christmas story.

Be sure to check out the other tales here

Before the door opened, a cawing sound made Charles look up. A group of ravens flew over his head before soaring off into the sky. “Is it a bad omen for that kind of bird to fly almost into you?” He asked himself aloud before turning to walk away.  The black birds could not bode well for the conversation ahead of him. Better it had been doves or bluebirds but it was the wrong season for seeing those in the city.

He was too late to make his escape as he heard the door creaked open behind him. Sighing, Charles turned.

An elderly lady stood staring at him with a frown and a scowl. “How can I help you?”

Charles resisted the urge to ask her why she was being abrupt and behaving as if she had been inconvenienced by his rapping at her door. Instead, he turned on his charm. The one thing that never let him down. “Good day, lovely lady. I’m looking for my friend, Mr. Pettifer. I am given to understand he resides here.” Charles leaned on the door jamb and gave his best flirtatious smile. “Lucky fellow if he does. To have such a kind, gentle landlady.”

The lady in question blushed but frowned even deeper. “Are you trying to flatter me, sir?”

“Of course I am not. I always remark on a lady’s loveliness. I cannot help myself. Ask Mr. Pettifer if you do not trust me.”

She opened the door wider. “I am sure Mr. Pettifer would agree with anything you asked of him. Most all of his acquaintances are as bold as you. Singularly annoying.” She swept her arm to the side to allow him entry. “The parlor is on the left. First door. I’ll send for him to come down.”

Charles followed her inside and watched as she instructed a small, dark-haired maid to fetch George.

The moment of truth was upon him.