A Midlife Career Change

This weeks story is a Midlife Career Change

Include the following in your story: chef * upgrade * monkey * turkey * fashion * team * harden * noon * elevator * baste




“Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations.”

Love what you do.

“Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.” -Steve Jobs-
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Inspirational quotes – brainy quote

I agree your heart will know when you have found it! You will suddenly have all the energy in the world and will feel like you can tackle anything. If changing jobs isn’t something you can do right now, don’t fret. There are things you can do while you are looking for that perfect job that feeds your soul. Start with a list of the areas of your life that might need a tweak to feel inspired again. Something as simple as learning to dance, building a garden or taking a photography class can make you feel excited and alive. Steve is on to something with not settling. If you are not doing what is feeding your soul, what is making you happy, what is helping you live your authentic self, chances are you feel like you are on a hamster wheel and every day is like groundhog day. Keep looking, don’t settle.

What’s that song, if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one your with? While you are waiting for that perfect job that helps you feel satisfied, try a few subtle changes with your current position in the interim. I discovered that adding a new skill to my role and learning something new can help me feel inspired again.

A life-long bachelor visiting married friends.

Here is my story!

The story: A life-long bachelor visiting married friends.

Include the following in your story:

Tick tockfactory * zoology * arrest broadcast * comb  *divorce *flap * harness gaze

The tick-tock of the grandfather clock was calming as I straighten up behind Doug’s college roommate. John would be here a few more days, and I wasn’t sure if I could hold my tongue. He constantly berated Doug but covered it with humor. Doug was so defensive when it came to John, I learned early on if I gave Doug it’s him or me ultimatum I would be on my way to divorce court.

It broke my heart the way Doug always shrank when John was around. John’s zoology career had him traveling the world. His Facebook post had a different beautiful woman hanging off his arm every few days. He invented a harness that would calm animals in transit and made his first million in his mid-twenties. Doug’s career was nothing to sneeze at. He was in upper management at a Nike shoe factory.

I sat John’s briefcase on top of his travel bag, and my thumb stroked the small flap; it popped open. I didn’t want to comb through his belongings, but it’s not like there was a cop standing by to arrest me. I opened the case, and there was a photo of the three of us attached to the inner lid. It was a photo of our wedding. Doug and I were feeding each other cake laughing our heads off, and John was standing off to the side. I’d seen this picture but never noticed his gaze before. John was watching us, and his facial expression made me catch my breath, it was a mix of love, admiration, and pride. It was a broadcast that our life was the life he wanted.

A Lifelong Bachelor Visiting Married Friends.

This week’s short story prompt from write the story:


The story: A life-long bachelor visiting married friends.

Include the following in your story:

Tick tock * factory * zoology * arrest * broadcast * comb *divorce *flap * harness *gaze

I’ll post mine by Sunday. Let me know if you want to join in!



Are you a spinner, a weaver, a knitter?  No, me neither.  But I am a blogger.  So are you.  Spin us a yarn, weave us a tale, or show us some sheep or a few alpacas, busily growing wool …….  Make a good yarn of it.

Children at a craft stall waiting to take their turn weaving with all that lovely yarn.

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The main character witnesses​ a crime

My sister and I are sharing stories using a book she purchased called write the story. We are going to pick a story on Sunday and then share it on Thursday. Let me know if you want to join in!

“The main character witnesses a crime.”

We must include the following in our story: Christmas, almond, paisley, lion, pipe, scream, fade, French horn, inflate, maple.

A limb tore through my jacket cutting my right shoulder as I pushed the brush back trying to follow the scream. The cold air made it difficult to breathe; I leaned against an Acacia tree and let my lungs inflate. This is not how I imagined my first Christmas in Africa would unfold.

The sound of a French horn blasted through the morning air confirming my greatest fear. The lion’s reserve had opened the gates to big game hunters for the weekend, and the hunt was on. I joined an animal activist group shortly after Cecil’s death by the dentist trophy hunter and spent my summers on the reserve hoping to make a difference. Cecil’s death sparked outrage around the world, and we wanted to keep the momentum going with campaigns. I had expected that lion hunting would become illegal and all the lions here would live out their remaining years in peace. This morning’s scream told me that was a pipe dream.

I heard several more roars. Damn it; they had the pride cornered. A chill ran through me. Not my sweet Paisley, please not Paisley. She was my favorite lion. I thought of her soft sandy-colored fur and her amber eyes. She had an unusual almond coloring around her face that had a paisley pattern; it is how she got her name. We were not supposed to feed them table scraps, but she loved pancakes and maple syrup so occasionally I left her a tidbit on my plate.  Another roar rang through the air and seemed to fade, or rather was drowned out by a piercing scream. A human cry. I ran towards the sound as fast as my legs could carry me.

I made it to the clearing and stopped short. The hunt was on, but it was three female lions that were doing the hunting. Elijah, a retired game warden, had four trophy hunters tied up in the clearing. He was standing on the roof of his jeep holding a small French horn watching the lions close in on the hunters. He met my gaze and lowered his eyes like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. In unison, the lions pounced on the hunters tearing them limb from limb. I covered my ears to drown out the screams and moved backward as two male lions joined the feast. I made my way back to camp and hoped that I could look surprised when the news spread through the reserve.