Local News

In today's story, Local News, Joyce helps her grandson with his homework

Today's prompt was a local news crew spotted at a scenic overlook during a recent vacation. As always, this story was written from the prompt, with no planning and very little editing.

If you enjoy today's story, please share it with your friends and leave a review for Freely Written. You can also send me  a prompt suggestion, and I'll be sure to credit you in the episode. Thank you!

More about Susan Quilty

Susan Quilty mainly writes novels, including two standalone novels and her current YA series: The Psychic Traveler Society.  Susan's short stories for Freely Written are created during quick writing breaks and shared as a way to practice her narration skills before she dives into recording audio versions of her novels.

Website:  SusanQuilty.com
Facebook: Freely Written
The Freely Written Book: Freely Written Vol. 1
Freely Written merch: Bitter Lily Books Shop

Transcript

Below is the transcript for Season 1, Episode 126 of Freely Written, a podcast by author Susan Quilty:
 

Welcome to Freely Written where a simple prompt leads to a little unplanned fiction.  

[Light piano music]

Hi, friends! I’m Susan Quilty and today’s prompt is Local News.

During a recent vacation, Peter and I were enjoying a sweeping mountain view from a scenic overlook when we noticed a local news car parked nearby. Not 30 feet away, a reporter was interviewing someone, and we were standing directly in their line of sight. I immediately flashed back to In Living Color when Jim Carrey would play the wacky background guy in local news reports. 

We had a laugh about it, but didn’t do anything silly or eye catching. I have no idea what the interview was about, since they were too far away to hear, but there’s a chance Peter and I are in the background of some small-town news footage. I hope it’s a good story, whatever it is. 

It was a funny moment that led to choosing today’s prompt. I’m really tempted to write about background antics during a news report, but Jim Carrey already did it better, so I’ll take a different path. I’ll get there without a plan though, which is the plan for this podcast.

As a reminder, here’s how Freely Written works: I sit down with a prompt and write whatever comes to mind, with no planning and very little editing. I then record the story and share it with you. 

If you have a writing prompt suggestion, let me know through social media or the contact info on my website: SusanQuilty.com. You can also visit my website to learn more about my novels—which are written with much care. Links are in the show notes. 

But now, let’s get on to today’s story:

Local News 

“When I was your age, everyone read the local paper.” 

Joyce sipped her coffee and watched her grandson fiddle with his phone. He claimed to be reading up on current events for a school project, but she suspected he was playing one of those phone games again. He was always playing a game on one screen or another. 

“Do you want a snack?” 

Nolan grunted with a shrug that could be a yes or no, and Joyce sighed. She wanted a snack, and, in her experience, thirteen-year-old boys could always eat, so she got up to check the pantry. 

Joyce didn’t mind keeping an eye on her grandson, but she would rather do it at her own home. Here, the pantry was stocked with premade junk that was full of sugar despite its claims of being dye-free or whatever else currently caught the eye of discerning moms. 

The pantry also had a box of crackers. Joyce gathered supplies and settled at the table to slice cheese and apples to stack on the crackers. 

“The local paper was delivered every day,” Joyce told Nolan as she sliced. “When I was little, I only cared about the funnies. You know, the pages with comic strips? They were black and white all week long, but on Sunday the funnies had their own full-color section. The comics were longer, too. I’d read them all and save the Sunday funnies to use as wrapping paper.”

Nolan raised an eye at the bit about wrapping paper, then shook his head and went back to work. 

Joyce studied the top of Nolan’s head and tried to remember if his eyes were brown or hazel. She was fairly sure they were brown, but maybe a light brown. Or maybe the kind of hazel that could look brown depending on the light. It was hard to remember since his eyes were always glued to a screen. 

“When I got older, I started reading more of the paper. We had to read current events for school, too. Usually, that meant finding important stories in the national or world news, but I liked reading the local news more.”

Joyce slid a plate with apple and cheese topped crackers toward Nolan. He mumbled thanks before popping a whole cracker stack into his mouth. He was jotting down notes in an open composition book, which suggested he actually was doing homework. Though Joyce couldn’t read his notes from her place across the table. 

She picked up a cracker and took a bite, trying to keep the cheese and apple in place with the tips of her fingers. Nolan finished three crackers in the time it took her to finish one, so she passed him the rest of hers and went back to slicing apples and cheese.

“The local news was fun because I’d sometimes know the people in the stories,” Joyce told him. “Or I’d at least recognize the names, even if I didn’t know them personally. Sometimes from church or from the local businesses. A lot of my friends’ parents owned local shops.”

“Uh huh,” Nolan mumbled while writing down another headline he’d found on his phone. 

“When I was in high school, I knew a lot of the kids in the local news, especially on the sports page. The paper would write up the local games. You know, football, basketball, volleyball, and all that.”

After passing Nolan three more topped crackers, Joyce set her paring knife on the edge of the cutting board and folded the package around the remaining crackers. 

“I was in the local news once.” 

Nolan looked up and Joyce saw that his eyes were a deep hazel, easily mistaken for brown if they hadn’t been sitting by the kitchen window with the sun streaming in. 

“What for?” Nolan’s interest brought a glow to Joyce’s face. She dropped her gaze to the table before looking back with a shy glint in her eye. 

“For saving a kitten.”

Nolan lightly squinted his brow, asking, “Like from a tree?”

“No,” Joyce corrected, “from a storm drain. I was walking home from school and heard her mewling below the grate.”

“She was stuck?” Nolan set down his phone, giving his full attention. 

“Yes, she was just a tiny thing,” Joyce told him, picturing the kitten as she spoke. “There was a sort of ledge off to the side of the drain and the kitten was sitting there crying for help. I think she went in for shelter but couldn’t see how to climb back out.”

“What was next to the ledge?” Nolan asked. “Like, a big drop into a drainpipe?”

“Oh, yes,” Joyce answered, making her eyes big. “I couldn’t see how far down it dropped, but I was scared the kitten would fall.”

“What did you do?” 

Joyce nudged the last few snacks toward Nolan, then clasped her hands on the table. 

“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” she admitted ruefully. “So, I called for help from Mr. Tan, who was out raking his yard.”

“And Mr. Tan saved the kitten?” Nolan sounded disappointed until Joyce shook her head and waved the question away. 

“No, Mr. Tan was afraid the kitten would bite him if he reached in with bare hands, and he didn’t think he could pull her though the bars if wore his work gloves. He told me to watch her while he called the firemen for help.”

“Firemen?” Nolan laughed. “Do people really call firemen to rescue cats?”

“Yes,” Joyce told him, frowning at his laughter. “But while Mr. Tan was inside, the kitten began reaching for the bars. She was too small to reach, and I watched, terrified, as her back legs slipped toward the edge of the ledge.”

“But she didn’t fall,” Nolan insisted with worry in his eyes.

“No,” Joyce confirmed, “she didn’t fall. But I didn’t think she would wait for proper help, so I reached both arms through the bars and scooped her up, hoping she wouldn’t bite me.”

“And that’s how you saved her?” Nolan asked, sounding like he expected more from the story.

“Not exactly,” Joyce admitted. “I had to get down on my belly and reach both arms into the grate to hold her, but the space between the bars was small, I had my arms through different spaces, so I couldn’t pull her straight out.”

Nolan’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it, intent on his grandmother’s story. 

“The kitten was scared and squirming in my hands,” Joyce said, miming the motion as the story became clear in her memory. 

“I was afraid she would fall while I was trying to get up. But I managed to get her close enough to the grate that she could wriggle her front paws and head between the bars. Then, I quickly balanced her on one palm while pulling my other arm out and pinching the nape of her neck. You know, where momma cats pick them up? And I rolled us both away from the grate just as the fire truck drove up.”

“And the kitten was okay?” Nolan’s hands were in fists on the table, his phone and snacks forgotten. 

“Oh, yes, she was fine! I brought her home and gave her a can of tuna. One of the firemen came back later with a certificate that said ‘local hero’ and a reporter took my picture with the kitten.”

“Did you keep her?”

“No,” Joyce told him sadly. “My sister was allergic to cats. But we quickly found her a home after her picture was in the paper.” 

“And your picture,” Nolan added proudly, and Joyce smiled. 

Looking back at his phone, Nolan asked, “Do we have a paper with local news?”

“Yes,” Joyce told him. “But I’m not sure if you can read it with your phone.” 

“We can try.” Nolan pulled his chair to the side of the table and Joyce leaned close as they looked at his phone together. 

The End 

Thanks for taking this story break with me. If you enjoyed today’s story, please share it with your friends and tell them about Freely Written. Remember, you can send me writing prompt suggestions through social media or my website, or just connect to say hello and learn more about my novels and other projects. Learn more at: SusanQuilty.com. 

Until next time, try a little free writing of your own. Let go of any planning and see where your imagination takes you. 

[Light piano music]