
Good morning, and welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. I’m pleased to report that my husband is home from the hospital and on the med. He’ll be sore for a while yet, but we’re taking it one day at a time. This week, we have a picture prompt, which means we are limited to 300 words.
Here is the picture.

My scene is from Pumpkin Spice. Enjoy!
What the hell? Anca tried to stand but couldn’t. Someone or something behind her was holding her down, preventing her from moving. She tried to cry out, but her throat was paralyzed. Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry.
The men settled at the table, no one seeming to notice anything amiss. Elvira removed the antique pewter teapot centerpieces, replacing them with huge platters of food. Anca hoped the money Aunt Selma was getting for the rooms was enough to cover the costs of the extra staff and all this food.
“Help yourselves,” the cook uttered before stepping back.
Like vultures coming across a fresh kill, the men attacked the plates.
“Why not just close the bar until she’s on her feet again? I’m sure you’d rather be at the hospital than catering to strangers here,” Ralph continued, loading his plate with bacon and eggs.
Anca was suddenly light-headed. She wanted to reach for her coffee, but her arm wouldn’t move. Was she having a stroke?
Relax. You’ll understand soon enough.
Easy for you to say, she countered.
Her mouth opened of its own volition.
“As much as I’d love to do that, as you said, Ralph, business is business. Aunt Selma needs the revenue now more than ever.”
Especially if these walking stomachs are going to stick around another two weeks. I intend to get rid of them sooner than that, but I’ll need your help.
Was she losing her mind? She’d heard that voice earlier, but now it was inside her head, controlling her, and putting words into her mouth.
“So, as I said earlier, I’ll be opening at four and closing at midnight.”
“Can you just do that?” Frank asked, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. “Don’t you have to get permission?”
Of its own volition, her forehead creased. “Permission from whom?”
That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales
Love this sentence: Like vultures coming across a fresh kill, the men attacked the plates. And funny how Ralph wants her to close yet he’s stuffing his face like there’s no tomorrow. What a nut. Great use of the picture. Glad your hubs is doing well and is home.
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Thanks.
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That’s really scary to be controlled by something outside. Hahahaha walking stomachs! So glad your husband is safely home.
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Thanks.
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Oh, I can’t wait to hear more about what they have to say. And I’m dying to know what has her in its power. Great job!
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Great snippet! So glad to hear that hubby is doing well.
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Glad your husband is home and recovering – worry, often, about my workaholic.
Enjoying Tuesday Takes – sense of mystery, trying to wortk out what;s going on.
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What a great scene! I love how she’s hearing the voices and having trouble moving her own body. I can’t wait to read more!
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It is scary when you can’t move. The “like vultures…” line is great. And walking stomachs had me chuckling. Reminded me of my boys as teenagers! Great scene.
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I’m sure that was the same memory that prompted the line.
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