100-WORD WRITING PROMPTS

CUPID LOSES HIS MAGICAL ARROW

===

Russ Madigan

The rain-soaked paper taped to the lamp post read:

Lost, small Golden arrow. If found, please return. Cupid.

Michael started searching but didn’t know where to begin. He had to find it, or else he would lose Katy. 

Suddenly, he remembered where he saw it. He followed the glitter on the highway to a funky old shack in the middle of a field. 

Going inside, he found Katy. She was smiling at him. She was holding something in her hand. He saw gold. 

She came to him and, raising her hand, plunged the object deep into his chest. ATLHEA.

===

Mark Gagnon

“Baccus, where did you hide them? I know you had something to do with this. Who else would pull a dumb stunt like this one day before Valentine day?”

“That’s rude, Cupid. I thought you were the nice guy.”

“Do you know how many people will have broken hearts if I don’t get my arrows back and it will all be your fault.”

“Oh, no one will care. The wannabe lovers will be drowning their sorrows with me and some good wine. You should join us. Besides, ask Orion, he’s the archer not me, remember.

===

Bob Chesteen

New Cupid John-Joseph excitedly unleashed love’s first arrow. 

The errant arrow hit a stray dog who then followed Mr. Charles Bingham onto the number nine bus to Bradford. 

As the conductor struggled to detach the stray from Charle’s leg, John-Joseph’s second shot, an attempt to rectify the first, ricocheted off the handrail, through the backsides of  the conductor, and into the ankle of Wanda Sanchez. 

Wanda clutched Charles’ right arm, the conductor his left, while the dog reattached and leaned over to bite the conductor. John-Joseph felt a tap on his shoulder. 

It was the Cupid-recall officer.

===

Jackie Polizzi

Once upon a time a magic arrow was stolen from a quiver.  The thief found the owner sobbing while hiding under a Willow tree.

“Please don’t cry, my name is Will, I had to steal one magic arrow, to save my country from a tyrant, and I knew your arrow would never miss the mark.”

“I apologize to you and your mother knowing February is a busy month for both of you. Please accept this box of Swiss chocolates and the arrow — I’m sincerely sorry if I missed any bits of apple.”  

===

Michael Pedretti

In case you haven’t heard
Zeus did not pull the sun
Across the sky even once
Let alone daily for eternity.

Nor did Shamash, Ra
Apollo, Sol, Utu, or Khonsu 
Protect a single 
Lost traveler.

Full moon or not,
The earth floats through space —
Sorry, Atlas does not hold her in place.
Nor did the first humans.

Come out of Norway
With the names Askr and Emvia,
No matter how many adults
Told their children it was so.

Sorry, Cupid never held
A magical arrow to love.
You will have to
Trust your heart.

===

Bruce Cogossi

“Have you seen my arrow?” Cupid asked his mother Venus.

“Don’t tell me you lost it again, Cupid.” Venus shook her head. “What is making you so careless these days? If I didn’t know any better, I would think you shot yourself with it. You’re becoming as absent-minded as a love bird.”

“Maybe Dad took it. He is the god of war for goodness sake.”

“Not likely. Mars doesn’t shoot love arrows at his enemies.” Venus chuckled. “He loves long sharp spears; arrows, especially magical love arrows, not so much. You need to keep looking, my boy! It’s bound to be here somewhere.”

A LONELY ASTRONAUT CELEBRATES NEW YEAR'S ON A DISTANT PLANET

===

Anonymous

Earth Date: 2058.05.23 13:43
Transmission K2-137b to Huston:  Year 2058.2094 Complete. Mission Status: No irregularities.  Continue monitoring?

Earth Date: 2058.05.23 18:01
Transmission K2-137b to Huston:  Year 2058.2095 Complete. Mission Status: No response to last year’s end of year report. Awaiting instructions.

Earth Date: 2058.05.23 22:19
Transmission K2-137b to Huston:  Year 2058.2096 Complete. Mission Status: Pending instructions. Transmission report shows delivered.  Request coms check.

Earth Date: 2058.05.23 02:37
Transmission K2-137b to Huston:  Year 2058.2097 Complete. Mission Status: Awaiting coms check. Hello? Is anyone there… 

===

Ke Jones

Astronaut Jamie Peters jumped at the opportunity to travel to a new distant planet. She was a bookworm and socially awkward so she didn’t have many friends. 

Spending time exploring a distant planet for New Years was exciting. This journey would take away the loneliness she felt on earth. 

Upon landing on the planet on New Year’s day. She found there was evidence of life on the planet. As she continued to explore she saw a city covered by a protective dome. She saw houses and these beautiful beings living in harmony. 

She became a hero when she returned home.

===

Bruce Cogossi

His forty-foot-long rover parked for the night on the frozen flat surface of an endless landscape. He gazed at the stars through the thick glass of a rectangular window. 

The numbers on the clock by his bed-side flipped: 23:59. One minute until the new year. 

He mixed a glass of reconstituted juice. The blinking clock, the humming generator, the otherwise deafening silence—he waited the long, slow minute till midnight. As the numbers tumbled, “Happy New Year” he whispered to the empty space. 

Just then, in the distance, meteors flashed through the darkness like fireworks. A half smile. Just an astronaut all alone in the vastness of limitless space.

===

Bob Chesteen

The instructions were very clear; don’t pull the lever marked “LD2.”

That was eight-hundred-twelve years ago. I put on the headset and recorded a call to my wife, as I had done every day since I pulled the lever. 

I put the headset down and looked out the window at the detached communications tower lying next to the disabled orbiter that was my home, my eventual tomb. 

The planet I was charged with cataloging hurtled close to its sun, making a complete orbit every four days. 

“Happy New Year,” I said to myself and marked eight-hundred-thirteen in my diary.

===

Madison Baldwin

New Year’s On Cavalier

Years passed, many worlds apart.
Even with earth, some million light-years away,
It still returned -New Year's Day.
Then, as always, the astronaut remembered the start.

Long ago, the crew ventured
To that golden planet, Cavalier.
Promises of unfathomable riches outweighed all fear,
Knowing they'd be rich once they entered.

But now the crew was nowhere near.
With golden stones, the astronaut counted the days,
Imagining a joyous celebration, far away,
Dreaming of one day leaving here, this Cavalier.

The astronaut smiled, even on that hopeless world.
Somewhere. hope hadn't been forlorn.
For new beginnings had just been born.

===

Criztina Jean

Am I truly “lonely” as they say or am I simply a loner?

While other people are stuffed in crowded bars and cities full of traffic, I have a universe full of clear paths. While others are bombarded by loud sounds, I have only my own breath.

I might venture to say that all those other people are lonely looking for something to fill the void, while I am here in the void full of awe and wonder.

One might say that being alone is when you truly feel whole and grounded, even in the middle of outer space.

===

Mike Rabens

She stared into the vastness of the Martian landscape, both mesmerized and terrified.

Mesmerized because the thin atmosphere of Mars allowed one to clearly see the planet’s surface in great detail. It was harshly beautiful and compelling at the same time.

Terrified because her lizard brain knew with medical precision exactly what would happen if the life support systems were to fail in any way.

It was a feeling that never completely disappeared; however, on this celebratory day, she was able to hold it in check while marveling at the journey that put her, the first woman, on Mars.

===

Janet Morris Belvin

Elizabeth Talbot looked at the dust on her boots. 

She’d just stepped off the ladder from her landing vehicle and was thinking of just how far away she was from her family. She’d just spent the last month circling Mars and now had dozens of experiments to perform. 

But waiting at home for her were her husband, Sam, and their three children, Carson, 8, Sally, 5 and little Sue, 8 months. 

They’d had to celebrate Christmas without her and now a New Year was dawning and Elizabeth was still away from them. She wondered if her job was worth it. 

===

Russ Madigan

After a 28-year trip at nearly the speed of light to the newly discovered uninhabited planet of Genesis, Commander Sean Campbell was finally able to touch down on solid ground. 

It was New Year’s Eve on Earth and his birthday. 

That night, he sat outside to watch the sunset, and the stars come out. Shooting his Ion rifle into the sky, the Plasma caused the various chemicals in the air to ignite into multi-colored fireworks. 

Suddenly, a bright light appeared overhead and came straight at him, landing 100 feet away. 

It was a small craft, and two figures disembarked.

===

Mark Gagnon

A Wilted Dream

This is my childhood dream. Before I understood what I was staring up at I wanted to be part of it. 

Twinkling lights created pictures in the blackness of space. They called to my young mind enticing me to explore their universe. 

Like all of us, what was important to me then has diminished as I’ve aged. The luster of the stars has dulled. 

What draws me now is one speck of light where a new year is being celebrated. It’s where I long to be, celebrating with those I’ve left behind knowing it’s impossible.

===

Lanaya Butler

Have you ever wondered or pondered the thought, that while most of us on Earth are preparing New Year’s celebrations, some are either lonely or alone? 

Let me tell you about Nelson, “The Astronaut.” 

He loves seeing new things in space. He loves his career. He thought he was gonna be home on time for his family New Year’s celebration. 

Nelson found himself lost on a distant planet in outer space. 

The best part for Nelson was he still had his sense of humor. He knows he is loved by his family. He knows a New Year means new beginnings.

===

Brian Forrester

She ran forty fingers through her thick mane, staring at the sky.

The mission loomed—an honor to represent her planet, Xeratos. She had volunteered for only one reason: to leave.

She’d miss no one. No one would miss her. Her name, her existence, would dissolve into the void.

On New Year’s Eve in the year 456bzilo-D, she consumed a glowing orb, the traditional farewell feast. A quiet toast to herself.

Earth, three million light-years away, awaited her. Her ship’s engines roared. 

Departure wasn’t the end. It was the beginning.

MISSING FRUITCAKE REVEALS CENTURY-OLD FAMILY SECRET

===

Jackie Polizzi

Hello Police Department. My family fruit cake has been stolen.

Madame, no one steals a fruit cake, they throw them away.

No – this one was dug up from my backyard.

Madame, when did this happen?

This morning!

Can you describe the family fruit cake?

Yes, it is 9 by 4 by 6, has a cheese cloth wrapped around it, and smells like Kentucky Bourbon, and is 150 years old.

Well, this is your lucky day madame, we received a call from our town vet, he is holding a dog named “Eats” – who has deposited a fruit cake full of jewels.

===

Bill Gilman

Dad was the only lover of fruitcake in our family.

The icky presence of fruitcake, with stale little jewels of fruit surrounding blemishes of nuts, nearly caused gagging.

Yet, every Christmas for a half-century, Dad displayed a sealed metal container of an ancient fruitcake Grandma sent from France. We never questioned why it remained unopened.

After Dad passed, we sadly sorted through his belongings. The old fruitcake tin surfaced. No one wanted it.

My brothers insisted on opening it. We braced for the vision of petrified, smelly, possibly worm-eaten dough. It wasn’t fruitcake.

Grandma surprised us with a cherished treasure.

===

Bob Chesteen

“Someone stole my Christmas fruitcake!” Grandma shouted.

My brother rolled his eyes. I knew what he was thinking. We hated grandma’s fruitcakes.

Grandma raised her hand and silenced the room. “Ever heard of the great diamond heist of 1924? Well, your grandfather was the driver of the getaway car. I baked the last diamond into the fruitcake, as a prize for one of you.”

“Wait a minute, Gran, I think I know where it is.” I said as I looked out the window.

I saw Smokes, our schnauzer, hunched over in the corner of the yard. Smokes would eat anything.

===

Mary Kaiser

The faint aroma of rum wafted from the wrappings, and I suspected the package, found hidden and forgotten among the Christmas decorations, held one of my grandmother’s fruitcakes.

As I lifted it, a yellowed envelope appeared, tucked below, which said, “Open after death”.

Tearing the seal to reveal the contents, I pulled out a Certificate of Birth bearing my father’s name, birthday, and his parents’ names.

Then comprehending the information, my stomach seized, and I began to shake.

The names of my aunt and uncle glared out from the page, explaining the reason Dad had always been Aunt Beth’s favorite.

“Mother: Elizabeth Rinehart, age 16” it said, naming my Dad’s oldest sister as his mother.

Did anyone else know? Should I tell?

===

Michael Pedretti

Fruitcake, Fruitcake

Where have you gone?

Fruitcake, Fruitcake

I know you are here.

Fruitcake, Fruitcake

Your secret is safe

Fruitcake, oh Fruitcake

Where have you gone?

I know you are here.

Fruitcake, my fruitcake

My end nears

Left unfound you will rot

Fruit Cake, our fruitcake

Did you know Eve?

What did she eat?

Where did she find the fig leaf?

Fruit Cake, faithful fruit cake

Reveal the truth

Who am I?

Which god is God?

Found, I bit into the loaf.

Thus spoke the fruit

“Son, oh son of your ancestors

There is no truth,

Only love.”

===

Liabette Escamilla

Annalise reluctantly dragged her bunny-slipper-covered feet up the stairs in a lackluster attempt to search for the hidden fruitcake.

As her least favorite family tradition, she wandered around the estate waiting to hear someone yell, “Fruitcake Found!”

Walking the dusty fourth floor gallery, family portraits peered curiously at the new visitor. She paused before familair mahogany waves and emerald eyes.

Her hand on the frame, she leaned closer. Click. She gasped as her weight gave way. Annalise stumbled into a secret room. At its center, on a pedestal encased in glass, was a glittering heirloom.

“The Lost Princess's Diadem?!”

===

Janet Morris Belvin

Papa loved his mother’s fruitcake. But Mama just couldn’t stand it – all those raisins and fruit. Not at all what a cake should be in her opinion.

One night, I went up into the attic to find some Christmas ornaments. Looking in a chest under the eaves, I found to my astonishment – a brick. But not a brick at all. It was a nearly 100-year-old dried fruitcake wrapped in paper.

Unfolding the wrapper, I was astonished - the paper wrapping the cake was the deed to our house – the deed that had been lost for decades.

HEARTWARMING REUNION AT A HOMELESS SHELTER DINNER

===

Bob Chesteen

Todd celebrated three years of sobriety by getting wobbly-kneed drunk after finding a crisp Andrew Jackson at the homeless shelter dinner.

He had been completely alcohol-free during those three years, unless you count beer or wine. Todd didn’t.

The shelter did and that meant trouble for his warm bed tonight. He staggered towards City Park, pausing to relieve himself on a pole. Todd forgot to unzip, and his relief travelled down one leg into his shoe. It wasn’t the first time. 

Todd and his old friend Jim Beam were reunited, and although his heart wouldn’t be warm his leg was.

===

Janet Morris Belvin

Nicole didn’t want to work at the homeless shelter that evening. After years in an orphanage when her mother couldn’t care for her, she had finally gotten foster parents.

So, after a week of school and cheerleading practice, Nicole had whined, begging to be excused from serving Thanksgiving dinner to the homeless. But Mrs. Shepherd had insisted.

So, there was Nicole dishing up mashed potatoes to people she didn’t care to associate with. Suddenly, she heard her name whispered.

She looked up into a pair of very familiar eyes. It was her mother, her real mother and her heart melted. 

===

Farrah Filfil

Shoving herself deep into a corner of the over crowded, overly hot, and overly overwhelming shelter, Cressida would rather be facing the cold instead of this.

Deciding if she should stay or go, she felt a tap on her shoulder and the smell of baked goods wafted near her.

“Pie?” He asked, a smile threatening to spill over as he held a paper plate.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she threw her arms around her brother, not caring that the crust smeared all over her favorite sweater. He laughed against her shoulder, and she breathed in his familiar scent.

===

Russ Madigan

Arriving to work at the homeless shelter, Finny noticed one of the new residents had red hair, the same color as hers. 

Strolling over to her, she introduced herself. “Hi, my name is Finny MacGregor.”

The new resident responded in a low raspy voice, “Laurie.”

For Finny, it was like looking in the mirror. Red hair, green eyes. Remembering, her aunt had a daughter who had dropped out of sight thirty years ago. Her name was Laurie. 

“Are you from Oban?”

“I was.” A sudden look of familiarity appeared on Laurie’s face.

Finny said, tearing up, “I’m your cousin.”

===

Mary Kaiser

Stone steps presented obstacles, but gnawing stomach pains overrode my unsteadiness.

The church door opened; delicious aromas wafted out. 

 “Welcome to dinner!” A young woman, invited me, as a puzzled expression crossed her face then transformed into recognition. 

 Numbed by hardships, I flickered awake. “Diamond?”

 “Yes Miss Mary”, her eyes saddened. Barely able to utter words, emotions choked off my breath. I replied, “It’s been years.”

“Dakota, Regina, come see!” Diamond called to the kitchen staff.

“Miss Mary!” echoed in my ears, remembering their voices, as children, greeting me as I’d entered the shelter to feed them so long ago. 

===

Brian Forrester

They seemed like an unlikely pair.

Rufus, a scruffy outcast from the wrong side of the tracks, and Shirley, a prim and proper resident of a gated community. 

But fate had other plans.

As evening fell, Rufus and Shirley were drawn to the same spot — a dumpster behind the homeless shelter. 

The aroma of discarded turkey bones wafted through the air. 

When everything was clear, they pounced, tearing into the trash bags. And in the frenzy of flying scraps and wagging tails, there was a flicker of recognition.

Rufus and Shirley were more than just two runaways from different worlds. 

They were siblings, separated by the families who adopted them long ago.

A ZOMBIE’S QUEST FOR BRAINS AND LOVE

===

Bill Gilman

They arose early Halloween morning. 

Mama painted their tiny faces gray and brown. Bloody red circles surrounded their eyes. Jet black noses. They wore old torn clothes from the rag pile. Too large, held together with pins, missing buttons. 

They climbed into the school bus, faces wide in anticipation.

Mama hid two packages of dark chocolate Dove candies around the farmhouse. High and low.  

They clamored off the school bus in the afternoon, racing into the quest with empty lunch bags wide open. They screeched and laughed and howled when they found one. 

They appeared like Zombies searching for Dove.

===

Bob Chesteen

The only thing Hobart hadn’t found yet was his head. At the edge of the rubbish pile, he found it and reattached it loosely. 

That’s when he saw her, or parts of her anyway – Karen. He had never paid attention to her in Timmy’s closet, but in the half light of the alley she stirred his severed heart. 

Together they would climb up the drain spout and, with the rusty knife she found, pry open Timmy’s window. 

Sweet little Timmy didn’t love them any longer, but they would love him one last time, starting with his brains.

===

Brian Forrester

At 3am, Ralph's stomach growled.

As he shuffled out of the abandoned building, his nostrils flared. The night air carried her scent. Tangy, wild, irresistible.

Half a mile away, he found her in a meadow, crouched over her prey. Their vacant eyes locked, kindred spirits in the dark.

With a sickening crack, she tore off the bird's head and offered him some of the dripping brains.

He accepted, and then they snuggled close, consuming together, blood running down their sunken faces.

For the first time in ages, Ralph felt satisfied.

The bird brains weren’t half bad either.

===

Luke Richard

The world had fallen into disarray. Don’t know how, exactly. Didn’t realize I was a part of it until I tried to talk, and a series of garbles poured out, all throaty and thoughtless. 

Strange, but the smell of rot in tow with me and my right arm constantly falling off led me to the conclusion: I am, in fact, part of the problem.

The apocalypse.

I guess that’s fine. Didn’t have much luck chasing hearts. Maybe brains would be easier.

That’s what I thought anyways, till I found him.

No brains compared, thus determined my unquiet heart.

===

Maria Griffiths

Juicy the Zombie is invited to a fest at the city cemetery.  

Juicy is lonely and love sick. He decides to venture out in hopes to find love.  

Frisky and focused on his mission, he arrives at the fest. His large black eyes and bushy black hair draws attention. The gray and black rags drapes down below his waist, his trousers are torn in several places and camouflage his feet as he walks.  

Juicy catches a glimpse of a fuzzy dark eyed mass coming from the woods. He is captivated and pursues the creature.

Later his absence is noted… did he find love or his demise?

===

Mary Kaiser

Necrophilia

“Mm mm, tastes like chicken.”

Stinky Stan munched fresh brain ripped from the woman’s skull. Her screams, echoed within his rotting ears, while gore splatted in chunks on the graveyard dirt.

He’d thought of food in every second since the fatal bite had infected him. 

Still salivating, another female victim appeared. Her familiar auburn hair flooded his memories reminding him of Rotten Rhonda, his first zombie crush. She’d melted into mush long ago. 

As the frightened woman gasped, Stan sunk teeth into flesh. The pleasant aroma of the pending corpse filled his senses.  

He swooned, love at first bite. 

===

Nicole McCracken

No one ever means to become addicted. It just kind of happens, and the more of this non-life I experience, the more frequently I meet other undead that are similarly afflicted. 

It’s not my fault, really.

I once saw someone hiding behind a headstone waiting for mourners, probably in order to feel that cathartic heartbreak to help him process. To mourn himself. Whatever works.

Me? I follow couples. Look-out points, fancy restaurants, flower shops and the like. When I bite into a brain that is in love, it flows through what remains of this body, and for a moment that is never long enough, my heart feels again.

===

Russ Madigan

Zach the Zombie

Using the last morsel of brain he had left, Zachary the Zombie climbed off his faithful steed, Zippy the Zebra, to stand over the smoldering corpse of his mortal enemy, Zeffran. 

He had fought him in a long battle for the love of Zandra. Not only was she beautiful, but she also had brains…something Zach longed for. 

However, she had another plan. Now that Zeffran was dead, she could have the Zombie that had caught her only eye, Zeke.

Zachary, feeling dejected, mounted Zippy and rode back to Zanzibar. He was victorious, but it was a hollow victory.

ANTIQUE MIRROR SHOWS MORE THAN REFLECTIONS

===

Maria Griffiths

Sitting on the couch, I stare into the antique mirror displayed on the mantel fireplace and see a scene from my past.

I stand on the doorway to my grandparents’ tiny kitchen; a small building with a thatch roof, dirt floor, and a fire against a brick wall. I see family huddled around the table. They stare at me and coax me to be seated.

I step inside and the warmth instantly changes to a sharp cold chill as my bare feet touch the cold floor. For the first time, I notice the black stone walls blend in with the black thatched ceiling.

The flash back escapes me and I find myself with tears streaming down my cheeks.

===

Frankie Gorrell

Her old mirror’s reflection was that of herself as a young woman sitting in the kitchen at almost midnight after just returning from her Rehearsal Dinner.

Sensing her distress, her mother approached her with a pitcher of “family tradition cocktail” and replied – “pre marriage jitters” – as she left the room.

After mentally reviewing the unchangeable events of the last two years that would continue to cause her and her fiancé so much pain, the young woman became calm and resolved.

When her mother again approached her at 6:00 in the morning, she replied: “Mom, I am calling off my wedding.”

SOMETHING STRANGE HAPPENS DURING A UKULELE LESSON ON WAIKIKI BEACH

===

Nicole MacCracken

The blood moon glowed red above Waikiki beach as a man sat with an ancient instrument across his lap watching three strangers cross the cool sand. He may not recognize them, but he knew them. 

Each siren silently took their place around the bonfire and took out their instruments. The man closed his eyes and began a song that sang through his bones, tying them all to the sea through the haunting melody. 

The music called the merfolk to their bloody work, as they rose, scales dripping and teeth sharp, from the sea to feed in town for the first time in 300 years.

===

Jackie Polizzi

Hey guys, you won’t believe what happened to me.  

Yesterday while I was practicing my ukulele, I felt breathing on the back of my neck.

I turned around and there was a 7 foot lavender dragon waring a Hulu skirt and coconuts with a big smile.

And it said, “Hi! We need a ‘uk' player for our wedding. We have no money, but you may eat all you want at our plant-based Luau, and I’ll give you your first ride on a dragon. What do you say?” 

I said, “Yes!”  

And then I woke up.

===

Bill Gilman

My eldest sister toiled at her magical ukulele while my boozed-up auntie, dressed only in a grass skirt, coconuts and flowers, performed a witch’s dance in the sand. 

The Outrigger hotel staff tried to shoo us away from their beach, but the tourists cheered the entertainment. 

Auntie conjured up a threatening thunderstorm on Waikiki. Lightning flashes surrounded the dancer. In an explosive clap of thunder, the cosmic ghost of Israel Kamakawiwi’ole rose from the water. 

Tourists gasped. 

Auntie grinned. 

Enshrouded in mist, IZ loomed large. He strummed his ukulele and hummed Somewhere Over the Rainbow.  

“Learn from me,” he whispered.

===

Carmen Wollesen

I was very excited to travel all the way from Portugal to Hawaii. My parents were very excited to take us on this wonderful adventure.

We arrived at the hotel and were told all the amenities we could enjoy while vacationing there. My older brother took surfing lessons and my little sister hula dancing lessons.

My parents went for a tour of Mount Pele, an active volcano site. I was trying to decide what to do and then my brother suggested - take a ukelele lesson. You are very good with music. It sounded so wonderful to learn a new instrument.

We gathered by the beach and each person took a seat. “Aloha!” said the instructor and proceeded to grab a Ukulele from a bin.

He played a few chords and to my dismay he said, “Do you know this instrument? It was brought to Hawaii in the 1800s by the Portuguese.”

I said, “It is not a ukelele, it is a Cavaquinho!” And I already knew how to play it.

===

Janet Morris Belvin

The palm trees overhead swayed in the gentle breeze as I sat plucking the strings of my ukulele. I had just about mastered “Tiny Bubbles” when suddenly I felt a terrific pain on my head – the result of a falling coconut.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer on the sandy beach, but in the ocean…on a surfboard. I felt a hand reach around my waist and looked back. It was the handsome surfing instructor I’d seen earlier.

I blinked my eyes in disbelief, and, upon opening them, found myself back on the beach and all alone.

===

Lori Forcucci

“You hold your ukulele with your strumming hand,” the wahini instructed the tourists. 

Maya scowled at the instrument, familiar and yet not. At 3, she delightedly intuited “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” on a tiny violin. By 7, musical perfection was as serious as her early admittance to Julliard. 

Once a prodigy, now a celebrity, she would perfectly play this weird instrument, despite three pina coladas, but her first strum was an embarrassingly discordant C. 

“Yay, you did it,” laughed the stranger next to her. “Show me!” 

Maya laughed too, to the faintest lyric, “Like a diamond in the sky.”

===

Bruce Cogossi

The bright sun covered the sandy beach along the shore of Waikiki.

In the distance, around a large blue beach umbrella, gathered a crowd of onlookers. Tapping feet and swaying bodies moved to an upbeat melody strumming a rhythmic tune on a ukulele.

With each step closer the music sounded crisp and smooth. I immediately thought of Israel “IZ” Kamakawiwo’ole and his Somewhere Over the Rainbow ukulele hit -- it was that good!

I expected to see a seasoned professional musician on that ukulele. As I rounded the masking of the umbrella, the ten-year-old boy on a stool took my breath away.