A Mountain Excursion

Posted on August 21, 2026 by hdh

The Story Spark was – Life Happens. The prompt I chose was: An encounter that changes your life. We had 25 minutes to write.

A Mountain Excursion

It wasn’t hard for me to understand. Everything worked in a logical progression. I was going on a field trip to the mountains with my friend. He had suggested this trip a long time ago. 

“Let’s go to the mountains and try to climb to the top. I’m not much of a climber, so I hesitated for a long time. I don’t mind being in high places; it’s getting there that creates the anxiety. I can stand on a roof and walk around on it, but when climbing a ladder to get there or climbing down, I get very nervous.

But I was convinced that it was time to conquer my fear and join my friend on the climb. “What could possibly go wrong?” he said.  He was going to be there with me. 

So I went. I should have listened to my inner voice, which said, “You are out of your mind.”

So there we were at the bottom of the mountain that it took 5 hours to get to. According to the map, which my friend forgot to bring, it should have taken 2 hours. But he assured me that he knew the way by heart. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t know the way by head.

We looked up at this towering piece of rock and couldn’t find a way to ascend it. There were no paths. There were no handholds by which to rock climb. Pretty much sheer rock from the bottom where we were and midway up where there might have been some path or access to follow. 

My friend suggested that we walk around the base of this mountain and see if there was another way up. He was sure there was. 

So we circumnavigated it. As we got close to our starting point, we found a cave. Ronald (I’m sorry, did I forget to mention his name?) said we should go in. “Maybe there is an elevator or stairs that will get us to the path that’s up there.”

As ridiculous as it seemed, I agreed to enter the cave. 

I’m sure you can imagine what animals or creatures reside inside caves on a mountain that has no access, just waiting for dinner options to appear at their table. 

We didn’t have to imagine. 

Suffice it to say, we made a hasty retreat. Lucky for us, other delicacies said animal in the cave found more interesting. 

We finally decided that climbing a mountain was not something that was meant to be for us. At least, on this day.

We got back in the car and carefully plotted our way home. I should say Ronald did. It only took 7 hours this time.

As I said, this trip shouldn’t have been hard for me to understand; after all, it was Ronald. You would think this brush with death, or should I say something’s dinner, would be an encounter that would change my life. 

For those of you who know my relationship with Ronald, you probably already surmised the answer to that one. 

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To Tell the Truth

Posted on August 19, 2026 by hdh

The writing prompt for this was to reverse a Fairy Tale.

To Tell the Truth

There’s a story about a little girl who gets lost in the woods on her way to her grandma’s house. She’s carrying a basket of goodies to make her grandma, who is ill, feel better. On her travels, she runs into a devious wolf. He convinces the girl to take a shortcut to save time. Of course it’s a lie. It gives the wolf a chance to get to the granny’s house first, and as we all know, there’s nothing a carnivorous wolf likes better than to eat a sickly old woman in one bite. When the little girl arrives, the wolf eats her in one bite too. It’s at that point that a woodsman happens to come along and saves the day by killing the wolf and miraculously saving the grandmother and child before they get digested. 

Sounds plausible, Right?

I looked deeper into this story to check the facts. Here’s what I uncovered:

All four of those characters did exist. However, the wolf in this story was not the bad guy. In fact, the wolf wasn’t even a meat eater. He was a vegetarian. So forget the idea that he would eat any human being. And nothing can eat an entire animal in one bite. Well, maybe a prehistoric dinosaur. But a wolf – no way.”

It turned out that the woodsman, the girl, and the grandmother were all family. And they loved meat. It was the little girl who came up with the plan. She always wore the same clothes for all her capers, a red riding cloak. Her nickname down at the station was Little Red Riding Hoodlum. She may have played the little girl act, but she was much older than she looked.  

Looking innocent, she walked in the woods and crossed the path directly where she knew the wolf would be. She pretended to be sad. She carried a basket. In the basket were assorted fruits and veggies, and a bottle of cordial. 

The wolf, seeing a sad girl and being an ever-helpful wolf, asked her what was wrong and if he could give her assistance. That’s what nice wolves do.

With big (fake) tears, Little Red sobbed that she was going to her grandmother’s house for a celebratory dinner party and was told to bring a friend, but her friend couldn’t make it. She wondered if the wolf would be her friend and join them for the celebration. 

Seeing all that good food in the basket and an invite to a party, how could he resist those sad eyes? He said yes. 

Little Red gave the wolf directions to her granny’s house. Of course, she gave him the longer route so that she could get there first. The woodsman was also there, hiding behind the house. 

When the wolf arrived, the door was open, so he just walked in. He didn’t see the grandmother, because she was hiding in a closet. Little Red, however, was there unloading her basket of goodies. She said that Granny and the others would be there soon. Red offered the wolf a glass of cordial and told him to hide in the bedroom, as this was going to be a surprise party. He did exactly what he was told. 

The bed was very comfy as he drank his cordial, sat and waited. It didn’t take long for the wolf to fall into a deep drug-induced sleep. 

As soon as he was fast asleep, Little Red was joined by her grandmother, and they both screamed out, so all the neighbors could hear, “HELP, WE’RE BEING EATEN BY A WOLF!” 

Well, you know the rest. The woodsman came in, and they all had a meat-filled dinner party. 

Little Red became famous, as did the news account of her rescue “as she told it”. A Grimm tale indeed. One that I suggest you keep to yourself. Little Red is now Big Red, and you don’t want her to cross your path.

 

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An AutoCorrected Folktale

Posted on August 12, 2026 by hdh

The Story Spark for this Writing Playshop was “Weirdo”.  I chose the writing prompt “Autocorrect is ruining someone’s life.” 

An AutoCorrected Folktale

Once upon a time, there were three Bares.  Being Bares, they had no clothes. There was a Proper Bare, a Martyr Bare, and a Lazy Bare.

 

The Martre Bare decided one morning to fake breakfast and make storage for all the bares. 

None of the bares were happy with the result.

The Proper Bare said, “This storage is rot food!”

The Martyr Bare said,  “Hell,  it’s all we got.”

The Lazy Bare said, “Whatever. Let’s just go for a talk.”

So they did. They all went out for a long talk; hoping their breakfast would improve. 

 

While they were gone, along came a little churl called Moldypox.

Since the floor was open, she just stalked into the house and looked around. 

She found the three bowls of storage.

The first bowl looked like it was snot

The second bowl looked like it was mold

And the third and smallest bowl was all white. 

She liked that one, so she emptied it all up.

 

RolledEclocks needed a place to have a fit down, so she went to the giving womb and found three snares. 

The first snare was too charred to use.

The second snare was too mushy

But the third one bit her to a knee.

Of course, that didn’t sit well with her, so she broke it.

 

Oldyknox was getting wired at this point, so she mimed the stares to the wedroom.

There she found free sleds

She tried to weep on the first sled, but found it to be lard

The second sled was Microsoft. That was not Apple for her.

The third sled was just night, which was what she was cooking for. 

So she decided to sleigh down and mount sheep.

 

It was then that the three Bares came home.

First they saw their bitchin’ table

“Someone has been improperly beating my storage!” grumped the Proper Bare.

“It’s all my fault,” cried the Martyr Bare. They’ve beaten my storage too.”

The Lazy Bare sighed, “Someone has beaten my storage, and it’s all…YAWN!” “Whatever.”

They then went to the sieving loom and saw the three snares. 

“Someone has been spitting in my snare.” said the Proper Bare. “How uncouth!”

The Martre Bare said, “Of course, it was my snare that would be shat in.”

The Lazy Bare muttered, “Someone tried to fit in my snare, and did flake it all up. Whatever.”

It was then that the three Bares, started to scurry. So they went up to the second drawer to check their heads. 

Proper Bare said, “Someone has been flying in my stead.”

Martyr Bare said, “Of course, someone had been dying on my spread!”

And Lazy Bare just saw Coldy lox on his bread and said, “Let’s Eat.”

And she was never heard from again.

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What’s in a Name?

Posted on August 10, 2026 by hdh

The story spark was anomalous names. I chose 3 names from the list of suggested names. 

What’s in a Name

Jupiter was a bossy kind of child. His parents decided to name him Jupiter after the planet Jupiter, the largest planet in our solar system. They hoped that he would grow up tall and powerful. 

Unfortunately, growing up tall was not in the cards for him. He remained rather short. However, he was rather wide. As he grew older, he grew wider and wider. He looked more like a planet than a person. 

When he was old enough, Jupiter, realizing that his name was different than others, did some research on the name he had been given. 

The planet Jupiter was a side note in the entries he found in his research. The main thrust of information was on Jupiter the God, the almighty, the king of all of the gods. He was power amplified. That was who Jupiter was meant to be. 

So, child Jupiter began making demands of his parents, his neighbors, and when he became of school age, his schoolmates and teachers. 

Whether it was pity because of the body he inherited and not wanting to hurt his feelings, or fear of what he threatened others with, which he was perfectly capable of doing, everyone bowed down to Jupiter’s every whim. 

And that is where this story should end. I don’t know if you readers feel compassion for him or anger towards those who should have taught him better, but be that as it may, a change was in the making. 

It was the day the twin girls, Sage and Alchemy, became part of his classroom mid-semester. They had just moved to his town from an unknown place somewhere called Anomalous.

Sage talked funny and always wore a cap and gown.  Every sentence that she spoke was some sort of wise saying. “Goodness is always rewarded with kindness.” or “It’s better to have a strong heart than an addled brain, when dealing with others.”

Alchemy was different. Alchemy was always transforming things. She wore a lab coat and sported a magnifying glass every day. She could take anything that was given to her and find some other use for it, transforming it into a completely different object. She once took the paper and pencils that she had been given to take notes, and turned them into the object that the teacher asked her to write about. Not many people I know can change paper and pencils into a 3D image of George Washington.

Needless to say, none of Jupiter’s tactics worked on them. He could boss them, threaten bodily harm to them, and they would quickly turn it around into some wise, thoughtful saying, or an object that he wanted to play with. 

Of course, they wouldn’t let him play with anything that was made.

Eventually he got tired of his games. Others started emulating the girls. Whenever Jupiter attempted something against someone else, several students would start spouting out advice to him. More and more students were learning proverbs to use against him. “Waste not, want not.” “A bird in the hand is worth two in a bush.” 

And the students also learned how to create all sorts of play things and other tools that were not only fun to use but useful.

When others learned of what was going on, they started doing the same things to him – his teachers, his neighbors, even his parents.

It got to a point where Jupiter had had enough and wished to be like the others. He knew he needed to change. And so he did. And as he did, he started to feel and grow taller. 

Jupiter, no longer goes by the name he was given at birth. He is now known as Harmony.

 

 

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The Question is…

Posted on August 10, 2026 by hdh

The Story Spark for this piece was: A Few Questions. We had 25 minutes to write. This is as far as I got. 

The Question is…

Paul had but one question, and he always asked it. “Why?”

“It’s time to go out and play,” his mother would say, “Now be off with you.”

“Why?” was his response.

“Because you need fresh air and exercise to stay healthy.”

“But why?” he asked again.

I could go on and on about the dialogue with his mother. Eventually, she just stopped explaining and said, “Because I said so. End of discussion.”

This would go on and on with anyone he interacted with. The rest of his family, the kids and teachers at school, even people who came to his front door or called on the phone and asked, “Is your mother at home?” or Can I speak to your sister?”

“Why?” would be his retort.

Paul was destined to be the whys guy of the family.

What good is it to be asking why questions all of the time, his parents bemoaned to each other. 

He did adapt it sometimes, when they or others tried to trick him with a question that required more than a one-word answer.

Lots of people asked him, “Why do you always answer why for everything we ask you or tell you to do?”

You’d think Paul would need to have a complete answer to that one. He did. It was either “Why not?” or “Why do you want to know?” Which kind of meant the same thing as just “Why?”

Then came the day the stranger came. 

He introduced himself as a questionable therapist – an expert in 

resolving speech problems of individuals who cannot stop questioning. He was highly recommended.

Paul’s parents, not fully understanding who this therapist was, decided to give him a try. 

The therapist’s instructions were to be left alone in the room with Paul for 1-hour.

Though they had concerns, they let him proceed with his therapy session.

 

Paul and the therapist sat at a table in the room. The therapist said he was going to play a short word game with Paul. And before Paul could react, the therapist said, The one rule that you have to follow to win is that you cannot use any words that have the letter Y in it.

Of course, Paul asked Why?

The therapist quickly responded with, “You lose. You used a Y”

It took three more responses like that before Paul stopped asking questions. Paul did not like losing, but what could he say that didn’t include the letter Y? 

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Summer Saturday – reposted

Posted on August 5, 2026 by hdh

The writing prompt was Caught. In this repost of a story I wrote in 2019, my main character seems to get caught a lot. 

Summer Saturday

Summer Saturday, my day off; the day I get to relax and do whatever I want to with no issues to deal with; a time to have fun.

Did you ever wake up in the morning and realize that you forgot to do something the night before?

I woke up ready to embrace the day when I realized I had no clothes to wear. I remembered putting my clothes in the clothes washer the previous night but couldn’t recall if I ever put them in the dryer. I went downstairs, put my damp clothes in the dryer, turned it on, and decided to have a leisurely morning breakfast at home in my PJs. Luckily, the paper is delivered to my front door so I didn’t have to go out in my nightwear.

Did you ever get a different newspaper than the one you subscribe to? 

Picking up the paper, I noticed that it was the National Enquirer, not Newsday.  Well, at least my morning reading would be more interesting than the usual tripe. Time for some real news.

I took out a couple of eggs from the Fresh Farm Eggs carton in the fridge and put them in a pot of water to hard-boil them. Raw eggs are not supposed to float, are they? After testing out the rest of the eggs in the carton, I chose to have cereal instead. By the time I was done with breakfast and the paper, my clothes were dry. 

Did you ever take clothes out of the clothes dryer and realize they were too hot to wear immediately, so you put them in the freezer for 10 minutes? 

Getting dressed was a new experience. My pants and socks were warm, yet my shirt and underwear were quite cold. 

I decided that it would be a good time to drive to the city and see the new exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. It took me a while to find parking, but I was lucky and found street parking, so I wouldn’t have to pay for a garage. I was looking forward to seeing the new dinosaur exhibit. 

Did you ever get stopped from entering a museum because you were holding a pocket knife in your pocket?  

I wasn’t allowed in until I got rid of the knife, and they wouldn’t hold it for me. It would have been a long walk back to the car, so I decided to bury it across the street by a tree in the park, where I could recover it later. 

After getting into the museum, I immediately went to the new exhibit. It was amazing. The dinosaur was a Bambiraptor. It kind of looked like a bird, but it was a dinosaur. I was intrigued in how realistic they made it look. I decided it would be cool to take a selfie next to the Bambiraptor that I could share with all of my friends. Not the best idea on my part.

Did you ever have your camera confiscated and then be thrown out of a museum for ignoring the NO PHOTOS ALLOWED and DO NOT TOUCH THE EXHIBIT signs?

Once the guard personally escorted me from the museum, I was given my camera back after he watched me delete the photos that I had taken. There was nothing much left to do but to retrieve my knife and head back home. 

Did you ever notice that one tree in the park looks just like many others? 

I searched for a good 30 minutes trying to find where I had buried my knife when a very polite policeman, who had been watching me dig holes throughout the park, asked me to follow him out of the park after making sure that I wasn’t an international terrorist. All I could do was to give up my search and return to my car empty-handed. I was pretty sure I was at the spot where I had parked my car, but it wasn’t there. 

Did you ever notice that if you leave your keys in your car when you park it in the city, there is a good chance someone else will avail themselves of them?

After more time with the police, I was left with either calling a friend to pick me up or riding mass transit back home. The police at the station allowed me to make a call to my friend to pick me up as I did not have enough money for the train.  Lucky for me, my neighbor had a spare key to my house so I could get back into it. 

The rest of the day was quietly spent sitting by the phone waiting for the call that would tell me my car had been found, which never came. 

I decided to go down to the local pub and get myself something to eat and drink to celebrate the fun summer day I had had. 

The waitress looked familiar to me. She might have been a woman I dated in the past and dumped me because I cheated on her. I’m not sure. I smiled at her as I ordered a bacon cheeseburger with a side of onion rings and a salad. She handed me the drinks menu and asked me, “What’s your poison?”

Did you ever notice that sometimes when someone uses an idiom or catchphrase, they literally mean what they are saying?

 

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Tell Me a Story

Posted on July 28, 2026 by hdh

In 2006, I wrote a song that became the theme song for concerts I performed in. It’s titled “Tell Me a Story” and fits this week’s Story Spark – Music and Story.

Here are the lyrics:

———

Tell Me a Story © 2006
by Harvey Heilbrun

Chorus
Tell me a story of dragons and kings
Of heroes and villains and magical rings
Myths and legends and folktales galore
Tell me, Oh just tell me more.

You sit down beside me as I go to bed,
Tell me a story that fills up my head.
As I lay sleeping, I dream of each word
And go to the places I’ve heard.

Chorus

A boy and a beanstalk, a princess and frogs
A duck that is ugly, a wolf and three hogs,
A name not remembered, a girl with long hair,
Just tell me and I will be there.

Chorus

Tell me of tricksters and clever old cheats,
A mean, angry giant, a small one defeats.
Tales from far places, a secret word said,
Let images dance in my head.

Chorus

Witches and ogres and beasts that can talk,
Enchantment and curses and spells to be bought.
Life without stories would be such a bore,
So please keep on telling me more.

Chorus (2X)
———

If you are interested in hearing me perform this song. Here is the link to me singing it at a concert in 2012 at the Emma S. Clark Library, as part of a group I belonged to, LISN (Long Island Storytelling Network). Note: that group no longer exists, so the website listed at the end of the video no longer exists.

https://tinyurl.com/3xh7jtuy

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The Cave

Posted on July 24, 2026 by hdh

The Story Spark was: Beach Party.  The Writing prompts I took were: Write a story where a character finds an unusual item in an underground cave at the beach, and Is there something in your life that reminds you of a way the tide comes in and out?

The Cave

The tide comes in, and the tide goes out. I love listening to the waves as they strike the shore. I’ve seen and heard that ebb and flow countless times. It’s so peaceful and relaxing.  However, this is the first time I have ever seen low tide this far out.  I didn’t even know that cave existed. From a distance, it was just a giant boulder as far as I could tell. 

What’s neat about low tide is that I can go out further into the water than at high tide and still be standing up. 

Curiosity got the best of me, and I walked, then waded out to the cave. As I got to the mouth of the cave, I could see it continued on and on, deeper and deeper. That was very odd, as I had never seen this boulder before. One interesting thing about this cave was that it was dimly lit inside. I’m not sure where the light was coming from. 

The path I took in the cave sloped up gradually. It wasn’t long before I realized that I was on dry ground. 

I looked back at the opening of the cave and realized my mistake. Since I arrived at the cave at low tide, water was rising behind me. I didn’t think I could make it back to the opening of the cave before it would be completely blocked by high-tide water. My only choice was to keep moving forward and up and hope that there was an exit at some point above the waterline. 

Surprisingly, though the light from the opening was now blocked by water, the light in the cave remained. That didn’t make any sense.

I could see no other opening to let light in. The walls of this cave were giving up some luminescence all on their own. 

The other confusing thing was that I could breathe normally. Obviously, there must be some source of air or oxygen in here. 

It was then that I heard the rumble. It started beneath my feet, and then I saw the walls of the cave vibrate. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear that this cave was moving. 

This time the light in the cave turned a deep, dark blue. 

I was afraid to move any further. Whatever was happening, I decided I would just sit in place and hope for the best. In my case, I was hoping to survive until the tide receded again and I could escape this trap.

That happened much faster than I expected. Within half an hour, all movement stopped, the water drained, and I was able to work my way back to the opening of the cave. 

I certainly never plan on making a foolish choice like that again. 

As I reached the opening of the cave. I became aware that I could hear no wave action outside. Something was definitely wrong.

I became even more confused and a bit unnerved as I stepped out of the cave, and there was no longer a beach or water, just a lot of trees, and the sun shining high in a sky covered in white clouds. Oh, and the sun was red.

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The Note in the Bottle

Posted on July 17, 2026 by hdh

The Story Spark was ‘In the Sea’. I took the writing prompt: A bottle with a piece of paper in it. 

The Note in the Bottle

It was a cold, misty morning. There I was walking along the beach, trying to release all the tension in my body from a poor night’s sleep.

My mind, as usual, was wandering all over the place, thinking of all the writing on my desk that had not been accomplished yet. I wish there were something positive that could distract me. Something to get me to focus on myself, my well-being, and not on work to be done.

It was then that I saw the bottle. It was not unusual to see a bottle on the beach. Careless people were always leaving their garbage there, thinking that it was not their responsibility to keep the environment clean.

What attracted me to the bottle was a piece of paper lodged in it. I grew up with tales of pirates, castaways, and people in trouble who would write a message, place it in a bottle, and toss it into the sea, hoping that someone would find it and rescue them. I decided to check out this bottle.

It took a while for me to get the paper out of the bottle, as it had a very narrow neck and the cap on the bottle was very tight, sealing off the water so the paper stayed intact. But eventually I got the paper out.

I unfurled it and was shocked at what I found. Instead of a plea for help, the message was a solution to what I was looking for.

The note read, “You know who you are. Your strength is the ability to adapt and invent. Create what you need from your imagination. It has yet to fail you. Have fun.”

What a brilliant thought. My writing groups have always fostered this. Yes, I have a lot of writing yet to do. But it was only work because I thought of it as work.

What if I looked at this as one of my writing groups would? What if I took each piece of unfinished writing as another prompt? The difference being that I don’t need to limit myself to 20 minutes to write it all. Let my muse and imagination guide me.

I took the paper and put it in my pocket and returned home to my writing desk. It looked a lot less formidable now.

As I sat down to write, I took the note from my pocket and pinned it on the bulletin board over my desk, next to some other notes I had written.

Why hadn’t I noticed this before? The note from the bottle was in my handwriting.

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Here

Posted on July 11, 2026 by hdh

The Story Spark for this piece was the word – Here. So “here” is what I wrote. We had 20 minutes to write.

Here

I could have been anywhere I chose. But no, I had to end up here. 

Here among the evil in thought and deed that pervades the land. Here among the filth and destruction that reek our planet. Here in a land beyond my wildest nightmares. Here.

Had I made a choice, I might have chosen a quiet, secluded island with beautiful trees and flowers. With seashores with crystal blue waters. With the sounds of birds and other animals meant to calm oneself and make one healthy and happy. 

But I didn’t make a choice. How could I? There are too many people that I care for. There are too many things that I know I can help improve. If only…

That’s the rub. If only there were a way for more people like me to collaborate and force the change? 

Not by violence, for that would add to the system that now engulfs us. But through thoughtful intervention and education. 

There is an old folktale about a man who was about to die and had three sons. He knew that when he died, they would fight amongst each other for control of the land they inherited. He decided to give each of his sons the task of finding a branch from a tree and for them to each break their branch in half. They did so; it was easy. They were then asked to bring back another branch each. When they did, he put all the branches together and, in turn, asked each of his sons to break the bundle of sticks in half. None could do it. The message he sent to them was that as individuals, it is easy for one to be broken, but when individuals group and work together, they are much stronger. His sons chose to respect their differences and work as one, together, after their father had passed.

That is a lesson that I wish all of us could understand. Yes, the here and now is in shambles. Yes, the here and now is run by the powerful, the rich, and the ignorant. But together, as a force of change for the better, we can make a difference.

So I couldn’t have been anywhere I chose. I had to end up here. But I did make a choice. The life you live is not a foregone entry in the annals of time. The life you live should be the choice to make the best life you can. 

Seek out those who wish to make the world a better place. Seek out those who want to cherish the earth, the animals, and each other.

Together, we are stronger than what exists. Let us make that change happen here – Now. 

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