The Ring

Day 27 Twenty-seven Sentences

June 27, 1927. On this date the United States Marine Corps adopted the English bulldog as their official mascot. 

Write about any subject. You can write about a Marine, a bulldog, or an Englishman if you’d like. You can write about anything! But you must write exactly twenty-seven sentences. No more. No less.

Alternative: Write a poem with 27 words or syllables.


The ring Alva wore was thin with age, and would no longer slide off her finger. She’d gained weight over the years, and what had been a rather loose gold band 70 years ago was now a thin, tight circle.

She wouldn’t let them take it off. She’d worn it faithfully since the day Harry had put it carefully on her finger, and it was staying there until they took it off her cold, dead hand. And maybe not even then.

Seventy years. She was so old. Harry had been gone nearly 20 years, and she still missed him every single day.  She was 90.  She hadn’t wanted to live, 20 years ago, when Harry had drawn his last breath.

“Harry!  How can you do this to me?  How can you leave me?  What will I do?”  She’d been so angry that he left before she did.

Well, you adjust and you go on, even when the heart and the life are gone.  But her ring was not coming off, no matter what anyone said.


It had stayed on her finger all through the waiting and the fear of World War II.  It was there, shining like the sun, the day Harry came home with his sea bag over his shoulder and a cocky grin on his face. It was there when she birthed their first baby, and the second, third, fourth, and fifth. Oh, they’d tried to get it off, but she fisted her hand and wouldn’t budge.

“That ring is my symbol of Harry and me. You can’t have it!  And if you try to take it off when I’m sleeping, I’ll just wake up and fight you for it! It stands for eternity, because that’s how much we love each other. It stands for faithfulness. It stands for loyalty.

“It stands for love!”

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