Tag: Birchwick’s Cliff

Mercurial March ~ 6SS

March 26, 2026

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2026/03/25/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-blog-hop-64/

Ahh…in the rustling wind I hear stories, lots of  ’em, and they’re all 6-sentence perfection.  Click the link above, if you’re unfamiliar with this weekly writing challenge hosted by Denise.  You’ll find all the information there, meet the crowd of fine authors–and be invited to write your own 6-sentence story–Yes!  Her briliant prompt this week is “MARCH”!

~♥~

March is widely considered a mercurial month, and Lorelei had followed suit: tearful, insatiable passion, wistful sighs, singing as she cooked, and distant–all in one day, or worse, within an hour.

But she was calm as Richard pointed to the vacant school, where his first contact in the town had been with the last remaining teacher–who’d seemed normal, friendly enough; the teacher and students were gone, and the building now served as an all-purpose auditorium for town meetings, rummage sales, receptions and various exhibitions.

“Tell Judd about the kids”, Lorelei urged, “how, prior to your arrival, there were no more children being born.”

Judd watched Richard’s face for any ‘tells’ of dissembling or outright lies–Lorelei’s request seemed to rock him just a bit, but he shrugged, grinned, said, “small town, ageing population–there wasn’t anything to offer young families looking for a place to settle, after the last graduating class moved on”–he shrugged again.

Aware the detective side of his brain was tracking, Judd took up where Lorelei left off: “wasn’t there considerable illegal drug business going on under cover of the fortune teller’s shop…she was allegedly the middle man; and the spate of suicides–teenagers; and a murdered girl, also allegedly connected to the fortune teller…her trade in love potions and curses, etc–am I right?”

Richard’s expression became strained–“perhaps you’ve acquired more information than I possess, Judd; I came here after all the ‘alleged’ was past history–and I was targeted by folks who couldn’t let go of myths and mysteries so convoluted that they were suspicious of a stranger coming in, quite innocently, to write a book that had nothing whatever to do with their town and residents–I only wrote about them after I’d narrowly escaped death; now, I’d really like to show you some of the nicer points here, if you’re interested”…to which Judd backed off, smiled an apology, and gestured for Richard to lead on.

~ Cale

Not a Porch Swing In Sight ~ 6SS

March 19, 2026

Together again, we’ve gathered at the invitation of our inspiring host, Denise–who teases us each week with a word prompt sure to make writers salivate and plan their next 6-Sentence Story.  We’ve got everything, among our talented writers: engaging mystery, romance, fantasy/sci-fi, drama, humor…even some tomfoolery now and then😉. 

So you’ve come to the right spot for a creative nudge.  Everyone is welcome–come in for a meet & greet, and get the only rule:  write a story in 6 sentences using the current word prompt.  Click the link below and you’re all set!  The Prompt is SWING.

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2026/03/18/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-blog-hop-63/

~♥~

Judd had watched Lorelei closely for mood swings since telling her Richard would give them a tour of Birchwick Cliff, the town; she’d gone from surprised, to pleased, to quiet–which usually indicated nervousness (in this case, specifically due to their aborted first visit when warning signs at the locked gate refused them).

They were once more approaching the intimidating wrought iron gate where Richard said he’d meet them, to make certain it was unlocked–which triggered Judd’s detective sensibility: if the huge and heavy padlock and chain were secured even during daylight, how did business people and residents get in and out?

Richard had also told him he could leave his car outside the gate, “it will be safe”–(safer than inside it? Judd wondered); and as Richard appeared, Judd parked and locked it on faith, and he and his wife entered, the three of them making small talk.

Lorelie remaind quiet as Richard began describing the community’s layout, and various buildings which had received make-overs since he’d chosen to reside there, after his nightmarish initial experiences.

“Visitors’ morbid curiosity leads them to ask to see two spots immediately”, Richard said with dry amusement: ‘The Victorian’–an exaggeratedly described ‘hotel’ with only 4 guest rooms where I stayed, thinking it a quiet place to write my novel; and this”–he gestured to the inviting book store.

Judd felt like he was on the set of a movie–“Carrie” came to mind, as he recalled Lorelei’s early mention (from reading Richard’s biography) of the fortune teller’s shop catching fire and killing her…on this piece of salvaged property where they stood, silent–as though listening for her guileful ghost shuffling tarot cards.

~ Cale

(to be continued, obviously😉)

No Fishing (6-Sentence Story)

January 22, 2026

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2026/01/21/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-blog-hop-55/

If the day comes when I can only do one prompt, Six-Sentence-Story will be my hands-down choice.

This week our host, Denise, offers the prompt word FISH…a bit of a challenge, but not for long!  Click the link above to get all the information you need to join a fine group of writers, and go for it😊

🐟🐟🐟

Judd wandered into the kitchen for a 2nd cup of coffee, kissed his wife and studied her never-changing beauty before asking, “what are you serving the good reverend for dinner tonight?”

“He doesn’t go by ‘reverend’, it’s ‘Pastor Richard’–and I’m thinking my standby, lasagna…either that, or the salmon in the freezer–what say you?”

“Your lasagna is always my top choice, and eagerly received by those who’ve shared our table–salmon is just fish with a lively complexion”, he quipped.

She laughed lightly, and inquired whether he’d be going to the monthly library meeting–if so, would he check again to see if Richard’s book had been added to the acquisitions.

“I am–and I will, Love”; he paused, chose his tone and words carefully: “if his book isn’t available, it may be best that you don’t fish around for details over dinner–he might not be comfortable with your level of curiosity about his thorny introduction to our neighboring hamlet’s history.”

She frowned at what seemed his (annoying) paternal instruction; “all writers like to talk about their books…I won’t be rudely inquisitive–simply showing interest; don’t you want to know if it’s a factual biography, or fictionalized account of his first experiences in Birchwick’s Cliff…the eerie details of multiple mysteries, and how he lived to tell and had courage to make his home there…”–to which Judd gently insisted, “no bald-face-naked fishing”.

~ Cale