About trishsplace

Australian wife and mother, born in Dublin, Ireland. Wishful writer (that is, I don't work at it enough!). Light and conversational tone. All thoughts my own.

Friday Fictioneers – Grandma’s Garden


Photo @ Sarah Potter

Grandma’s garden.

So many wonderful hours, working the earth. Every year, new plantings. Sweet-talking Grandad for the muscle work.

When her children brought their children, she was so happy. And to us, her grandkids, this was our magical playground.

Grandma would create Easter treasure hunts, decorate for Halloween, lights for Christmas, and oh boy, summertime.

4th of July was the best, cousins visiting, neighbours dropping by, barbeque, mouths watering, and sunburned faces. It was manic chaos, and awesome.

Grandma’s special place then, and for always.

Why I’ve never been surprised to see her shadow, still gently checking in. Working it. (100 words)

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a story in response to a photo prompt – in 100 words or less. You can find other stories here.

Three Things Challenge #421

Three Things Challenge

Crispy critters round for tea

On the eve of Christmas

Better cut the biscuits up

Need some offset sweetness

Who the hell invited them

Something from a nightmare

Not our fault their boiler blew

Spoiled our Christmas di-in-ner

(To the tune of Good King Wenceslas)

Three Things Challenge set by pensitivity101. Today’s three words were: better, crisp and cut

Weekend Writing Prompt #183 – Wrangle

Weekend Writing Prompt 183

Weekend Writing Prompt #183

We call her the kid-wrangler
We watch, she smiles, as she gathers her class
Thirty-plus students, not one smart-arse
We watch with pride, swallow envy
Our own cattle prods, held at the ready

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

Friday Fictioneers – Let go

Dale Rogerson magic-door

Photo @ Dale Rogerson

Each day before I break my fast, I spend some time before this glass

A window gaily framed by green, by lights both festive and obscene

When I do turn and look behind, a melancholy scene I find

Look forward, Christmas and good cheer

Look backward, desolation, heartbreak, fear

Ode to Joy does not play here, tinsel, glitter, nowhere near

No winter booties, gloves, or miffs. No food … no hope

I gaze upon the scene and pray, let Christmas ‘20 fear allay

Look forward, Christmas, love, goodwill

Look backward, fear and panic, still


Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a story in response to a photo prompt – in 100 words or less. You can find other stories here.

The Monday Peeve: Cheerful People

Through her The Monday Peeve prompt, Paula Light invites us to vent, to let off some stream, to get something off our chests. This week, my peeve is Cheerful People.

Cheerful People

They’re noisy.
They smile too loudly.
They say irritating things, like “Happy Wednesday”, which is marginally more tolerable than “Happy Friday!”. 
They don’t get why I don’t respond cheerily. Are peeved when I don’t participate.
They’re oblivious to sarcasm.
There should be a special room at work to retreat to, when faced with their sickly saccharine enthusiasm.
They aggravate accidentally, causing me guilt at not enjoying their cheerfulness, giving them something to worry about; marring their cheeriness.
Cheerful people, peeve me.

#TMP #HappyFriday

Lucid – Weekend Writing Prompt


Drunkenly, I wend my way across the dancefloor

Tentatively, I reach for the door; it moves.

Blearily, I tried to decipher what is happening.

And then realise. Ah, a revolving door.

Not supernatural. Not just drunkenness.

A lucid explanation.

Now, to navigate through.

Three Things Challenge #391

Today’s three things are:


I forgave her in an instant.

In a long week of travel, there’d been missed texts, lonely hotel rooms, and I was feeling dejected.

The meetings hadn’t gone well. It was hard work pushing the board’s agenda onto unwilling prospects.

I was worried. There’d been no choice. I’d had to rush off to New York when the senior partner became ill.

Sarah cried and declared me a heartless husband as I’d got into the taxi.

It was an important week for her.

The ultrasound scan; our first child. Her 30th birthday party; booked for six months.

I knew that I’d let her down, badly. But I felt unloved and misunderstood.

When I arrived at our front door, suitcase rolling behind, Sarah surprised me. Opening the door before I could use the key.

She laughed and rushed to hug me close.

The smell of delicious cooking wafted behind her. I could see the table was set, with a fancy cloche over the serving plate.

Sarah hurried me inside, helped with my coat, loosened my tie, and herded me to the table.

“Sit. Sit.” She said.

Then lifted the cover off that plate and screamed, “Twins!”

Take Seven: 16th October 2020

Our words were:
annoy, busker, button, car, crop, cry, elevate, Friday, hunt, hysterics, irritate, movement, pack, pattern, pest, poetry, song, street, swipe, thump, vamp.

Happy Friday! Sang the lipsticked Vamp.

Every week, we suffer her unmusical song.

Swipe right if you’re elevated by this pattern.

Scream in hysterics if the pest annoys you no end.

She presses my buttons.

No street busker could irritate more.

Thump my back, as I cry at the pack.

Drive a car through her obsequiousness.

Take a crop to her poetry movement

Hunt and eradicate her persistence.

Three Things Challenge #386

Three things are: Street, Busker and Vamp

I plunge into the street, ploughing through the crowd surrounding our local busker.

Adrenaline courses through me as I run for my life, leaving the sanctuary of my apartment, where I’ve spent days hiding.

I wobble, nearly falling on the cobbles, as I desperately look behind for my pursuer.

Screaming agony as my ankle twists, sweat pouring down my back, hair in my face, I continue my desperate struggle through the cruising shoppers.

Suddenly, the Vamp appears before me. I stop dead and stare. He smiles widely, teeth exposed, canines glistening.

He pulls me close, leans into my neck and breathes me in.

Friday Fictioneers – the nightmare


Photo prompt @ Sandra Cook

I’d slept like an innocent.
Awoken fresh and clear minded.
Even after all that had happened.
My feet hit the floor.
I thought, cold.
Felt, fresh.

A visit to the toilet.
Brush of teeth and hair.
The feeling of rebirth, renewal, soared.
My hair shone; skin glowed.
All was good again.
I walked to the balcony.
Opened the French doors.

The smell hit hard and fast.
As I breathed in, deep.
I gagged.
Mind buckled, followed by knees.
And I collapsed to the deck.
The nightmare wasn’t over.
It had followed me.
Into the light. (96 words)

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a story in response to a photo prompt – in 100 words or less. You can find other stories here.