
So far June is promising. Let’s hope the summer’s the same. Welcome to this week’s episode of Tuesday Tales. Since we have a picture prompt, we’re limited to 300 words.
I’m continuing with Make Mine a Manhattan. Here’s the picture I chose.

Enjoy!
I’d just finished feeding the cat when an idea sent me racing upstairs to my computer. After weeks of not being able to write a single word, my muse was alive and well and raring to go. I opened my laptop to a new page and settled down to write, the scene in the coffee shop taking on a far more sensual life of its own.
The raucous sound emanating from my cellphone—screeching sirens—obliterated my train of thought.
“What the hell … Nooooo!” I wailed and banged my head on the desk, before sitting back and covering my face with my hands. “Why me, Lord? Why me?”
For days now, not a single thought, and just when I finally had one … Gone, snatched by my seven-year-old nephew’s prank. That was the last time I let the little scamp play with my cellphone.
Shakespeare, hair standing on end, tail high in indignation, raced out of the room. The cat would find another place to settle shortly, while I … Why was it each time I managed to get my creative juices flowing again, something happened to stop me in my tracks? This book was cursed.
I pushed back a strand of hair that had escaped the confines of my bun. For some reason, when summer had officially arrived three days ago, Colorado had become tropical, with even the needles on the pine trees wilting. The windows were open, but there wasn’t a hint of a breeze, even the fan blew only hot air. How the hell was I supposed to get any work done? My brain was fried. It was time to consider air conditioning, but with the luck I’d been having, we would have snow before it could be installed.
Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.
Boy, have I had days like this!! Great scene. I feel her angst and frustration. Sometimes everything seems to just go awry. Great scene. Hope she bounces back.
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There’s a lot of what I went through trying to finish the White Dahlia in this story. I’d started to write it a month before my father died and then, it seemed as if it was one thing after the other.
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Ugh! I feel so bad for her. Finally she has something and it’s gone. I see the room she is in and feel the heat of the day. Great job!
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What a great scene!
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This happens more often than we would like. Great snippet!
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Great scene! The only problem with it was …. at 300 words it was MUCH too short! I wasn’t ready to stop reading. I’m loving this story!
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