C. H. Richard
Bio
My passion is and has always been writing. I am particularly drawn to writing fiction that has relatable storylines which hopefully keep readers engaged
Stories (143)
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Dropped
A buzzing sound in Mabel’s ear woke her out of a sound slumber. She opened her eyes and reacquainted herself with her living room. "Jingle Bells" played from the holiday music station on T.V. Her new dog, Frankie stared straight at her ready to lick her face any moment. He was an old Jack Russell she adopted from the shelter last week. Her daughter, Sharon wanted her to get a pet to keep her company since her husband Bart passed last year. It was a comprise Mabel agreed to since she was not going to move in with Sharon and her family which is what her daughter really wanted. When she saw Frankie, she knew he was the one. He was older, but according to the staff at the shelter he still loved to play. They also insisted he could open any door even if it was locked once he heard the squeak of a new toy. She had not tested this theory yet, but several were wrapped under the tree
By C. H. Richard3 years ago in Families
Eggplant Christmas
The lights, the music, the joyful spirit and then there is the cooking. The holidays are upon us and although I enjoy the wonder of it all, so to speak, I also find them stressful and tiring mainly because I am the one who hosts and cooks the meals. Although I love cooking most days, I’m not actually that big a fan of Thanksgiving or Christmas meals because I am exhausted by the end of the day. I won’t go into details as to why I am the only one cooking other than my siblings are not able to host or cook and my parents who have both now passed away were not able to help due to medical conditions.
By C. H. Richard3 years ago in Families
Color Of Water
Checking my watch for the third time in ten minutes, I waited for my husband Tim. “Where the hell is he? Why am I still waiting for this man?” I could hear myself mumble as I turned to see my six-year-old twin boys eyes widen as they looked through the glass enclosure where giant sea turtles roamed.
By C. H. Richard3 years ago in Fiction
Becoming a Stone Skipper. Top Story - November 2022.
Ringlets formed and reflected one after the other as the sunlight beamed across the lake on my grandparent’s property. My grandfather had just cast his first stone. We both watched intensely as the smooth flat granite moved across the water lightly touching down before it bounced to another surface and formed more mirrored rings. The autumn leaves covered much of the water and rocks. Even though it was only just after six in the evening the sun was already setting, as November was bringing its shorter days. The brisk air spoke of change, and light caressed each rock that skipped to a final landing.
By C. H. Richard3 years ago in Fiction
