Glad you could join us for the next grueling episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Deep in the underbrush, Elliot finally stopped to rest. Sweat dripped from his eye stalks down the back of his neck, trickling under the front edge of his shell. “Great,” he muttered, “now I’ll get an itchy salt rash, and I won’t even be able to scratch it.”

An exotically accented, soft female voice emerged from the undergrowth ahead. “It is soundink to me as if you are needink a friend — a vife, perhaps.”

Curious, Elliot stretched his neck toward the sweet sound. “Who’s there?” he asked hopefully.

But when the leaves parted, Elliot’s eyes bulged in terror.

“My name is Natalia. I am sorry if I am startlink you, but I am thinkink maybe I could be helpink you. I am thinkink maybe ve could be helpink each other. Although you are not beink my usual type, I haf been alone in these voods for too long, and I am havink a good amount of experience in beink a vife.”

Elliot slid backward, bumping into a small boulder.

“Uh… Thanks… Thank you for your kind offer, but… um… I really need to be running along… Uh… I have to meet some friends of mine… some bird friends…”

At the mention of birds, Natalia ducked her head and looked skyward with all eight eyes.

Elliot pressed on, “Yeah… They… They’re waiting for me, and… um… if I’m late, they’ll come looking for me!”

He edged sideways around Natalia, giving her as wide a berth as possible. Then he took off as fast as he could go, glancing anxiously over his shoulder as he went.

He should have watched where he was going.

To be continued…

Previously, on Elliot’s Adventures ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Next time . . .

#AtoZChallenge A-to-Z Fictioneers: Interested in original fiction? Here’s a list of writers who are writing stories for the 2017 A to Z Challenge. The author’s link will take you to their “A” post. If you know of any other story writers I can share, please drop the link in the comments!

• Aditi’s Indian myths from a female POV at Aditi’s Pen
• Arpan’s horror stories at Tales of Unusual Strangeness
• Atherton’s Victorian murder mystery, “Stranded!”, at Atherton’s Magic Vapour
• Debs’s song-inspired fiction at Bunny and the Bloke
• Dipanwita’s 100-word stories at Cocktails Mocktails and Life
• Jo’s upbeat emotion stories at Jo Hawk the Writer
• Joe’s excerpts from his upcoming post-Civil War historical fiction, “Steel Horse Saviors”, at Fiction Playground
• John’s flash fiction crime stories with a twist at John Davis Frain
• Keith’s everyday life in fictional Amble Bay at Keith’s Ramblings
• Lenni’s speculative fiction, “What Are They” at J Lenni Dorner
• Marquessa’s short stories spun from her larger work, “Living to Die” at Simply Marquessa
• Natalie’s “Secret Diary of a Serial Killer” at Natalie Westgate
• Shailaja’s 100-word oxymoronic stories at The Moving Quill
• Shweta’s Tiny Tales at My Random Ramblings
• Sorchia’s Gothic fantasy, “A Cold Spring” at Sorchia’s Universe
• S.T. Ranscht’s fantasy/adventure serial, “Elliot’s Adventures” at Space, Time, and Raspberries

• Vanessa’s build-a-30-word-story at Vanessence

Today’s twofer from April 8, 2016:

Grandchildren

By the time I was in high school, I believed I would never have children. Why? No idea. But by the time I entered college (an era when over-population of the planet was a growing and alarming concern) I had decided I would never have children.

I trundled through life for the next 10 years content with my career, independence, and unencumbered lifestyle. I had friends, relationships, wine and cheese tasting parties… what more could I possibly need?

Then, while working full time as a Contract Specialist for the Forest Service, and attending USD Law School at night, I became pregnant. I don’t mean to imply that it was by magic. I was involved in a long-distance relationship with the man who contributed to the life-changing life suddenly growing inside me. I knew it was a possibility. We knew it was a possibility. We just didn’t expect it ever to happen.

But it did. And almost nine months later, after a 1-hour, 56-minute labor, requiring only the two good pushes I’d promised the little being during Lamaze class, I had my son in my arms.

And two thoughts in my head. I’m not going to tell you the first one because I said it out loud and it seems to have affected Brylan’s view of himself. Words I am now convinced no parent should ever risk saying to their newborn.

But the second thought, which I did not say out loud, was: Now I can be a grandma.

And immediately: Where did that come from?!

Unfortunately, my heart was now aware of the truth my social conscience must have been trying to eradicate. And more than 33 years later, that truth still abides.

I am proud to have raised a creative, intelligent, loving feminist. I am thrilled that he wants to be a husband and a father — a dad. I have even loved each of his girlfriends (except that one), hoping to see their puppy love blossom into a lasting relationship.

I eventually had to admit Brylan is a late bloomer.

There are still no grandchildren. Currently, there’s not even a girlfriend.

Sigh.

But I don’t pressure him. These things happen in their own time. He assures me he will get married someday and have a family. There will be grandchildren.

I’m just a little concerned that I shall be only a fond memory by the time the first one arrives.

Maybe I’ll be able to haunt them.