This weeks prompt words:
puffing, candles, confused, fishing, supreme, almost
eight, despicable, banner, shave, flowers and frowning.
here we go:
Grace was confused. It seemed someone was singing Happy Birthday to her. Eight candles on a pink and white cake. Yes, that was right she thought. Making a supreme effort and puffing as hard as she could she almost blew them all out. One more and she could rest. She was so tired. Why was she so tired? There, it went out. The blessed soothing velvet blackness surrounded her once more.
Frowning she squinted as the light once again penetrated her vision. There was her Daddy having a shave in the makeshift campground the family had set up after the fire had taken their family home.
“We’ll go fishing for our dinner Sunshine,” he said, “and you can pick some flowers for Mommy while Kenny and I clean our catch.” Grace shook her head and winced at the pain. Something wasn’t right. What was it? Kenny, Kenny died in a farm accident a long time ago. She wasn’t a little kid anymore. She’d reached the banner age of 75 just this past July.
She forced herself to think clearly, realised where she was and once again struggled to rise. This time she made it to a sitting position and leaned back against the rough cellar wall. “How was she going to get herself out of this despicable mess?” she wondered.
“More to the point,” a gusty voice beside her said, “is how you got into this mess in the first place.”
“Oh Lordie” Grace moaned, “now I’m hearing voices.”
A cool and soothing draft passed across her burning forehead.