The Stupids and the Idiots

Prompt: Two characters are in an accident and end up sharing a hospital room – tell their story. What a perfect prompt because it gave me an excuse to explore an idea I’ve wanted to tinker with for a while! Here’s hoping you like this one because I think this is something I’d like to expand on in the future. 🙂

“My grandma says there are two kinds of people in the world: the stupids and the idiots. You? You’re an idiot.”

I can’t place the voice. Literally. I can’t tell what direction it’s coming from or who it belongs to. My head feels like an elephant is sitting on it while I’m underwater and someone is kicking it over and over again. And it’s not just my head. My whole body feels completely wrecked, like I’ve been hit by a bus.

The thought strikes me along with a flash of memory, propelling my eyes open.

Big mistake. Huge. Continue reading



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6/10 Word Sentences

So I’ve had an interesting couple of weeks. So interesting, that I can’t even begin to describe them to you. 

My mind has been crazy busy editing ANOTHER draft of KeyNovel. That, combined with some annoying life matters, has me in a writing funk. Monica took pity on me and gave me a new challenge: 6/10 word prompt. 

I took it just a step further. I combined this with her original prompt: Think of a place or situation where you are totally, completely, deeply uncomfortable. That’s your setting.

There’s so many things in this world that make me uncomfortable. One of them being the existence of “rape culture.” It’s a scary world we live in, but because brave heroes are finally speaking up, we are making a difference. I saw this (see gifs below) on Tumblr today and allowed it to kick start my interesting post for you guys.  Continue reading

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Pink Lady

Prompt: The last TV show you watched is now your life story. Well, in usual Radish fashion, I’m going to sort of follow this prompt, but first twist it to meet my needs. I recently watched a documentary about the BBC show Sherlock and that got me thinking: documentary, behind the scenes, nonfiction. I also recently read Mindy Kaling’s memoir, a collection of essays about her life so far. So instead of getting a fictional story from me this month, here is a dose of truth.

Like a lot of girls I know, growing up my bedroom was pink. Not outrageously bright or anything. The walls were a soft pink, the exact same color as the Washington DC cherry trees in bloom, and perfectly matched first my Precious Moments drapes and bedspread.

When I was younger, I loved it. It was the perfect setting for adventures with dolls and hours of dress up. And then as I got older, I went from loving it to liking it to trying to convince myself that I still liked it. Finally the truth was undeniable: pink was simply not my color. Continue reading


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A Conversation over a Table Full of Food

My prompt:  Everybody’s got World Cup fever! Or do they? Your next story must include the World Cup in a prominent way (it can’t just be on a TV in the background) 🙂

So I did a thing. 

I wrote a controversial short story. And even though I hope it doesn’t, I know it will offend people. 

Keep in mind a couple things:

1) Originally, I wrote this out of frustration. My biggest “thing” as of late is people with opposing views waging war against each other. In a world where everyone can say what they want, there’s bound to be someone that thinks different than you. Religion. Politics. Sports. Prejudices. I am all for having your own views as I feel this demonstrates freedom of choice, but I am very against the ways people choose to act out their differences. Fighting? Killings? Posting rude or nasty pictures on social media sites to make the other side evoked? Please, LET IT END. Work out differences in way that can be civil. No good ever came from forcing someone to see your side of things. I hope that by reading this short story (written by an imperfect human being) that you can see that there is a peaceful solution to having differences. 

2) As the writer of this short story, I’d like to say that I am friends with people of all opinions. And I love those with different views because they help me see the bigger picture in life. And, dare I say it, they even make me feel stronger in my own faith. And from what I’ve experienced, a simple conversation has gotten me a lot farther than “shoving what I believe down someone’s throat.” (Last line is in quotations because this is the example used by a friend that spent time talking with me about difficult topics.) This conversation is actually based off of one I had in college. I promised the person I originally talked to about this subject that I would one day put my thoughts in writing. Well now I did. Your name isn’t Jason, but you did challenge me to put some thought into how I viewed life. So thanks!

3) My views are mine and mine alone and do not reflect my co-writer’s thoughts. In fact, this is a conversation we haven’t really talked in depth about. I do know that she loves people. 🙂 

4) If you are still reading this long intro, please go into reading my story with an open mind. I’m not looking for agreement. I’m just a girl that thought it was time to give an inside glance into the thoughts I’ve yet to share with the interweb. 

5) I hope the World Cup in this story is prominent enough for you, M. 😉 

6) I almost didn’t post this because I had panic attack like symptoms over how this might be accepted. But you know what… I can’t be ashamed of my own thoughts. I’m a writer and I write. That’s that.

7) Number 6 happened because I almost went and deleted this whole thing.

8) I’m still debating it.

9)I’m sending myself to bed now.

10) dsafhdjskfhalkejcnrlwekrjvh


A Conversation over a Table Full of Food

One would think it’s a crime to walk into a World Cup party wearing a hockey jersey. At least, that’s the impression I got when I walked through my friend’s front door and fifteen sets of eyes immediately glared at me. One of them even boo’s me, pointing at my shirt.

Jason, my friend from COM 103, makes a gagging sound as I join him at the food table. He dips a scoopable chip into some salsa before leading a generous portion to his mouth. “Did you forget which sport is playing today, Nat?” I shudder at the fixed nickname that’s been following my whole life. I wish people called me by my full name: Natalie. Instead, I’m forced to share the same name as the annoying bugs that swarm the air in the summertime.

“Not a big soccer person,” I say, surveying the table. The hostess went all out on this party. Appetizers on the left and casseroles, sandwiches, and a roast in the middle all lead to an impressive dessert display at the end. I spot pizza puffs mixed into the buffet and drop two on a plate. “Hockey is a much better sport, anyways.”

Jason huffs, a spitlet of red juice falling on his shirt. “No way! Soccer is worldwide. Hockey just gets Canada, eh.”

I smoosh the puff on my plate under my finger. “Wrong. Haven’t you ever watched the Olympics?” I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically. Jason covers his mouth with the back of his hand and laughs. “But, at least America has the Blackhawks under its belt.”

Jason stops laughing and nods at my shirt. “You’re a Blackhawks fan? Geez, Chi-Town, I couldn’t tell.” He glances at the TV and then at the couch. He looks like he wants to join them, but decides against it. “Sucks you’re going to school in only THE GREATEST HOCKEY TOWN IN THE WORLD.”

Someone from the bathroom chants “LA Kings. LA Kings.”

“You guys win one Stanley Cup…” My words trail off and I end the thought with a shrug. “Besides there’s always next year.” Damn. I was starting to sound like a Cubs fan. “Hey wait, I thought you were a World Cup kind of guy.”

“I am.” Jason’s lips tug up at the sides. “But if there’s a chance to annoy you or any Blackhawks fan, I’ll be whatever I have to be to do so.” Continue reading

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Honey Moon

Prompt: Incorporate the recent honey moon that occurred on Friday, June 13th into your story. When Sarah gave me this prompt, my thoughts immediately jumped to mythology – surely the ancients must have had some elaborate (if not necessarily scientifically accurate) story explaining this kind of phenomenon? That reminded me of the story I posed here last fall, Oh the Fates. Today’s post is a second installment of that story (with a few changes, most notably Nia is now Gia), so you may want to read that one first. This is also the story I’ll be continuing to expand this month as I participate in Camp NaNoWriMo.

“I’m going out!” I call out into the chaotic house, taking the stairs two at a time. “I have my phone but I won’t be able to answer for a while!”

Aunt Moira’s head pops out from around the corner. “Where are you going?”

“A lecture at my college. Have you seen my car keys?” I riffle through my bag with no luck. I can hear them jingling, but my fingers can’t find them. Until, wait a second, yes! “Never mind, I’m good. What?”

My aunt’s arms are crossed over her sauce-spattered apron. “School on a Friday night? In the summer?” She shakes her head. “You haven’t even eaten. Let me make you a plate first.”

I give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, but really I’ve got to run.” Her reply is mumbled Greek, asking the gods to watch over me. Athena has always been a favorite of Aunt Moira’s when it comes to me, but it’s only recently that Aphrodite has been getting requests on my behalf as well.

Knowledge is power. Which is to say, knowledge almost always makes things more complicated. Like when a year ago, I learned that according to my ancestors, the Greek Fates, I am destined to marry my soul mate, Apollo Marino, within a year of graduating college. Continue reading

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On Top of Mt. Future

Sarah’s Prompt: Summer is all about making choices, so this time I’m giving you an option. Check out the Instagram account called Yeah_Write, an account dedicated to daily visual writing prompts. You can pick an old picture (and it’s accompanying prompt if you wish) or go with the one for whatever day you start writing. Please link us to whichever picture you decide!

I chose this link:  (Copy and paste it into your browser! It wouldn’t let me save from my computer from some reason.)

And now… the story. Disclaimer: I’m not posting this on my Facebook and will lead those that I know will understand this story to this link. Monica will get it though. 🙂

On Top of Mt. Future

There we were sitting on one of the most beautiful places in God’s green earth when Kara turned to me and said, “I think we should break up.”

I didn’t look up from the book I was reading. Not because I was really interested by it, but because I didn’t know how to respond to the statement that I sensed was coming. So I waited, the fog rolling in from the mountains and turning the tension heavier. I looked over her shoulder to see what page number she was on.

“I’m on page two-seventeen,” I told her. She shrugged, seemingly uninterested. “That’s only three behind you.”

“Great,” she said, shifting so that our shoulders had at least a foot apart. I wish I could say that I had no idea why she was treating me this way, but let’s face it, I knew exactly which cause was to blame.

“We were bound to break up anyways,” I said, turning the page in my book. “I mean, think about it. We’ve only been going out for a year.”

“That’s an infinity in high school years,” Kara snapped, pulling at her novel’s binding. She only hurt books when she was angry.

This fight wasn’t a new one for us. It all started five months ago when I told Kara I loved her. It seemed like the right thing to do. We’d been dating for seven months and had already been deemed the school’s cutest couple. At least, that’s what it looked like to me. I didn’t anyone else walking down the hallways with smiles as big as ours. I discovered happiness but forgot to calculate in the power of those three, overused words: I love you. Let me explain.

I loved pizza. I loved staying up late and watching footballs games. I loved the internet. And I loved Kara Newsbury. But eating pizza every day would make me fat. Staying up late to watch football games would make me tired the next day at work. Bumming around online all day would make me miss the real world. And loving Kara Newsbury would only end in a heartbreak that I would cause. Continue reading

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Hometown Tourist

Prompt: Tell a tale of tourism. I decided to put my own spin on this prompt. After all, you don’t necessarily have to go very far to be a tourist. This story is actually building off of an idea I started exploring in a previous SaM post and wanted to see if it has what it takes to go a little further. This isn’t the start of that idea, but in the timeline of what I’m hoping could be my next new project, this scene comes in the middle. Hence the vagueness about some things. So please pardon that, and I hope you enjoy!



“I believe you have what Southern women might refer to as a gentleman caller.” It was a statement, but the way that Jessie’s dad said it made it sound more like a question.

She looked up from her notebook and studied her father’s face. It was only recently that had the realization that Dad was aging. He’d always looked young for his age, but before college she saw him every day so she didn’t notice the changes settling in. But when she came home after months away – first at Christmas, now for the summer – his evolution was more obvious. There was more white hair at his temples, the lines around his eyes a little deeper.

But those eyes still held their sparkle, especially at the mention of a boy. Continue reading

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