Ginger's Dream

The challenge on the Deadlines for Writers website's Keep Writing Challenge for 4/26/2020 was to write a 150-word (exactly) short story on "Sly." This is my entry. I prefaced my entry with this teaser:

" A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination, and hard work." -- Colin Powell. 

Ginger’s Dream

Ginger stood in the doorway and surveyed the devastation in her backyard. Ronald’s newly-planted oak saplings lay beside the shards of glass from the toolshed windows, and his prize rosebushes were naked. The picnic table had been moved to the edge of the property. Little remained of the week-end paradise her husband and children had enjoyed just outside their back door.

Gazing at the ruins, Ginger thought of all the changes ahead. Ronald would have to find a new hobby. Perhaps golfing? The city park, just a block away, would provide the children with play space. Possibilities!

Ginger evaluated the untenanted space before her. When Ronald returned home from his convention, would he believe that a tornado had touched down in the backyard? Slowly, Ginger nodded in satisfaction, brushed her hands on her dirty jeans, closed the door and made her phone call, “Marie, guess what? We’re getting a pool!”

Here is the 250-word version I wrote before I reread instructions and realized I had to cut 100 words from the piece:

Ginger stood at the back door of her suburban home and surveyed the devastation in her formerly-pristine backyard. Ronald’s newly-planted oak saplings lay wilting in a forlorn pile beside the broken shards of glass from the toolshed windows, and his prize rosebushes were stripped of blooms and leaves. 

The ground around the fallen and twisted swing set was littered with twigs, broken chains, swing seats, and plastic yard toys.  The picnic table had been lifted from the center of the yard and set down at the very edge of the property. Little remained of the week-end paradise her husband and children had enjoyed just outside their back door. The yard was now largely one big open space. Garden? Gone! Play equipment? Gone! Life is sometimes so cruel!  

Gazing at the ruins, Ginger thought of all the changes in store for her family. Ronald would need to take up a new hobby. Perhaps he would enjoy golfing. The city park was just a block away; the children could go there to play and instead of staying in the yard during their free time. Yes, this could be good for the Smith family.

Ginger surveyed the damage thoughtfully. When Ronald returned home tomorrow from his convention in Paris, would he believe that a sudden short-path tornado had touched down in our backyard yesterday? Slowly, Ginger nodded her head in satisfaction, brushed her hands on her dirty jeans, closed the door and made her phone call, “Marie, guess what? We’re getting a pool!”