Romance Writers Weekly



Hello and happy Tuesday! Welcome to our hop. We are always so happy when you join us! I came up with this week’s challenge:

Flash Fiction Time! 500 words using rosebush, knees and mascara.

It was definitely getting to be spring. I nearly ran outside and into my small garden. I sank to my knees, ready to plant some new rosebushes and marveled again at the rich soil here, as black as mascara. I was just about to dig in when my neighbor stuck her head over the fence.

“Did you see the new guy who just moved in?” she asked. It was her way of saying ‘good morning’ I suppose.

“No thanks,” I answered, even though a tiny part of me was dying for details. I didn’t really want to encourage her. He was about my age and very good looking. Did I mention good looking?

“He’s single,” she announced, singsong, dragging the last word over ten syllables.

“Not interested, but again, thanks,” I responded, smiling to ease the sound of rejection. I had to admit, my heart did kick up a little at her declaration of his status.

“How do you know he’s single?” I asked, trying to sound merely curious.

“I asked him, of course.” Of course she did. Lydia had no filter and no hesitation. “I told him about you.” She looked victorious.

“Why would you do that?” Again, I worked to keep my voice neutral.

She shrugged. “He’s single, you’re single. Why not?”

Why not, indeed?

“Here you go,” she said, practically shoving a tray of cookies toward me. I stood, baffled, but didn’t reach to take it.

She sighed her frustration. “I made them so you could welcome him to the neighborhood.” She thrust the tray closer.

“Lydia? What are you doing?” I didn’t hate the idea, really.

“Go on. Put on some lipstick and comb your hair. Then take these over to him. What can it hurt?”

She had a point, but I couldn’t give in so easily. It would certainly encourage her nosy nature.

“What are you, my mother?” I asked, but I made the words sound gentle.

She put her free hand on her hip and lifted her chin. “Go on. I’ll wait here with the cookies while you fix yourself up. I baked all morning just for you.”

I laughed at that. There’s was something so inherently sweet about the woman, it was impossible to reject her. Or ignore her.

A few minutes later, freshly coiffed and painted, I found myself walking two doors down and ringing the bell. When he answered, my breath caught in my throat. He was even better looking close up. I held out the tray.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” I said, my voice quavering a little.

He grinned and—wow. He flourished a bow, inviting me in. “What a pleasant surprise.” And I believe he meant it.


Now let’s pop over to the amazing Brenda Margriet and see what she came up with…


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