Jeanne Owens, author

Blog about author Jeanne Owens and her writing


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Welcome – Stream of Consciousness Saturday #SoCS

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“Welcome!” said the little old man behind the counter as Jakob walked in through the aged hotel’s grimy glass doors and across the scuffed marble floor. It was stormy out, and Jakob’s steps left damp footprints in his wake. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

Jakob stepped up to the dusty counter and set his suitcase down beside him. “I need a room for the night,” he said as he tried to brush his soaked brown hair out of his face. “I got a little turned around on the road thanks to this storm, it’s getting late, and you’re the first place I could find that I could stop at.”

The old man gave Jakob a toothy grin. “Of course, of course. I understand completely. It’s our off season, so we have plenty of rooms available. Do you have a preference?”

“No preference. Any room will be fine.”

“Then how about room 113? It’s our most popular room. We have many people request to stay in it.”

“That’s fine,” Jakob replied, stifling a yawn.

“Great!” the old man said as he placed a ledger book with a faded leather cover in front of Jakob. “If you’ll just sign in here, I’ll get you your room key.”

Jakob grabbed a pen from a caddy on the desk and signed in the ledger book while the old man grabbed a key from a desk drawer.

“Here you are, sir,” the old man said, taking the ledger book and handing Jakob the key. “The room is right down the hall there to your left. Check out is at 10:00 in the morning. Have a good night!”

Jakob grabbed his suitcase and made his way down the dimly lit hallway to his room. It was a small room, with just the basic necessities like a twin bed, a small dresser, nightstand with lamp, and a small desk. Like the rest of the hotel, it was a bit dingy and dimly lit, but Jakob was tired and paid it no mind. He set his suitcase down and went into the tiny bathroom to take a quick shower.

After his shower, Jakob decided to sit at the desk with his notebook and see if he could get anything written more on his manuscript before going to bed. But he still couldn’t find a way around his writer’s block, as he’d hoped the change of scenery from the short trip he’d taken would have helped him with.

Closing his notebook, Jakob headed to bed with the hopes that a good night’s sleep would help instead. But a good night’s sleep wasn’t in the cards.

Jakob was about to doze off when the sound of the doorknob rattling woke him. Thinking someone was at the door and trying to get in, he got up to check, but no one was at the door or anywhere in the hallway. With a shrug, he went back to bed, but a few minutes later the door opened on its own. Jakob stared at it, surprised, and heard footsteps walk towards him, but there was no one there. Then he caught the faint scent of a flowery perfume. It lasted just a few seconds, then was gone.

Jakob didn’t know what to think. There was a ghost here. His room was haunted. Maybe even the whole hotel. He was scared, of course, and was tempted to leave the hotel right then and there. But then the inkling of an idea for story came to him.

He jumped out of bed and went over to the desk. He opened his notebook and started writing.

In the morning, Jakob went to the desk to check out. The old man was still there. He eyed Jakob with a bit of surprise as he said, “Good morning, sir. Did you sleep well? How was your night?”

Jakob smiled as he placed the key and some cash on the counter signed himself out in the ledger. “It was good,” he said. “I didn’t sleep much, but I managed to get a lot writing done for a change, so thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” the old man said with a touch of bewilderment as Jakob walked towards the lobby doors, whistling a happy tune.


This post is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, “welcome”:

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS March 21/2020


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RIP Kenny Rogers

Sad news this morning as it’s reported that the legendary Kenny Rogers has passed at the age of 81.

“The Gambler” has broke even, now 😦  But he’s left us with an Ace we can keep.

 

 

 

The Gambler
On a warm summer’s eve
On a train bound for nowhere
I met up with the gambler
We were both too tired to sleep
So we took turns a-starin’
Out the window at the darkness
The boredom overtook us,
And he began to speak
He said, “Son, I’ve made a life
Out of readin’ people’s faces
Knowin’ what the cards were
By the way they held their eyes
So if you don’t mind me sayin’
I can see you’re out of aces
For a taste of your whiskey
I’ll give you some advice”
So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his faced lost all expression
He said, “If you’re gonna play the game, boy
You gotta learn to play it right
You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you’re sittin’ at the table
There’ll be time enough for countin’
When the dealin’s done
Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin’
Is knowin’ what to throw away
And knowin’ what to keep
‘Cause every hand’s a winner
And every hand’s a loser
And the best that you can hope for is to die
in your sleep
And when he finished speakin’
He turned back toward the window
Crushed out his cigarette
And faded off to sleep
And somewhere in the darkness
The gambler he broke even
But in his final words
I found an ace that I could keep
You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you’re sittin’ at the table
There’ll be time enough for countin’
When the dealin’s done
You’ve got to know when to hold ’em (when to hold ’em)
Know when to fold ’em (when to fold ’em)
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you’re sittin’ at the table
There’ll be time enough for countin’
When the dealin’s done
You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you’re sittin’ at the table
There’ll be time enough for countin’
When the dealin’s done

 


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Turn On The Light – One-liner Wednesday #1linerWeds

As we all struggle to deal with the COVID-19 coronavirus, I think this is something we should all try to remember:

 

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Image found on Pinterest

 

“Happiness can be found in even the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” – Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

 

This post is part of One-liner Wednesday:

One-Liner Wednesday – A Challenge

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Agatha Christie’s Ghost Knocks Her Books Off Shelves In Museum

The ghost of Agatha Christie may well be knocking her own books off of shelves in the Torquay Museum  in her hometown of Devon. Only her books have been targeted, and the ghost of a woman has even been caught on camera.

Read the story here: https://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/weird-news/ghost-agatha-christie-knocking-books-21616533?utm_source=linkCopy&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=sharebar


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The Phantom Meow & Purr – Stream of Consciousness Saturday #SoCS

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Jenny stared at the wand toy and catnip mouse lying on the floor next to the kitty bed in the living room. She still couldn’t believe Mister was gone. She’d had the orange tabby since he was a kitten. Time certainly flies by. Before she knew it, Mister was an “old man” of fifteen and had developed cancer. She’d had to make the difficult decision to have him put to sleep.

He’d been her constant companion and loving lap cat. She didn’t know what she do without him now.

Tears filled her eyes as she looked at his favorite toys. She didn’t have the heart to pick them up at the moment, so she decided to just leave them there for now.

She tried to go about her afternoon like normal, but she kept expecting to see him or hear him. When she sat on the couch, she expected him to jump up and snuggle next to her or curl up in her lap and purr. Or to bring a toy over to her to play with him. When she went to the kitchen, she expected to see him trot along beside her and meow for a treat while she fixed something to eat.

Now she sat alone on the couch and fixed food in the kitchen in silence.

Somehow, she managed to make it through the rest of the day without Mister by her side. As she laid in bed, she thought about him again and how he’d jump up on the bed and curl up beside her to sleep. She felt tears trickle down her cheeks.

She was just about to doze off when she thought she heard a meow from the foot of the bed. Then suddenly, there was a soft bounce on the mattress, as of a cat jumping up on it and what felt like small kitty feet walking across it, followed by the sensation of a cat lying up against her legs. Then she thought she heard low purring.

Somehow, she knew it was Mister, coming to comfort her by curling up beside her again, letting her know everything was all right and that he’d always be with her.

 


This post is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, “animal sounds” – write about the sounds animals make and how you experience them:
The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Feb. 22/2020