(For Carrot Ranch Rodeo #3–Spellbinding Septolets)
Nora crouched at the edge of Fischer’s Gorge and pulled a braid of human hair from inside her jacket. Each strand in this braid had been woven together from the remainders of uncounted childhood games, battles fought and forgiven, and secrets shared among four friends, over nearly two decades. She pressed it to her face and breathed in their memories, then began the unraveling. Continue reading
She’d climbed down the drainage tunnel, crawling due east, then straight down. That ladder better not end before the tunnel did. Beau had promised, Continue reading
(Response to the second Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Rodeo: Humor)
“Thanks for the ride!”
“There’s a payphone in town. We’ll take you there,” the farmer nodded from under his straw hat as his wife peeked around the edge of her bonnet.
So how’d I land here, sharing the back of an Amish wagon with two piglets, a smelly sheep, and a drooling farm dog? Continue reading
Blat of mule’s bray, and Nanjo rattled into the village square. People grumbled, crowding the buckboard wagon. They’d been waiting since dawn. The stench of unwashed clothes hung heavy in the morning heat. Continue reading
Unseen, I observe.
Red shorts, shirtless, she digs tiny toes into the sand. A mutt stretches nearby, ears pricking as the girl narrates the world under her dirty hands. Continue reading
Her fingers paused and flattened on the ridged wood of the screen door. A warm breeze flowed over her fingers, soft promise of the summer day. Springs screeched as she pushed through, concrete floor chill under her bare feet. Continue reading
The relationship was…challenging, particularly in an urban setting. Continue reading
There he was, round saucer eyes, nose waggling like a sausage hot in the pan, spiky black hair reaching every which way. True, I couldn’t really see him, but I knew he was just around the corner in the upper hallway of the Hold, laughing his slow, goofy laugh. Continue reading
Midtown Writers Prompts: day-old biscuits, the dog barked, dinner with Delores
Dinner with Delores was always a challenge. A perfectionist, she had to have the right sauces, vegetables sliced just so, and meats hand-picked at the local butcher’s. They rolled their eyes after she left their counter, but she always got the top quality she demanded. Continue reading
Red lights glow in outlying huts of the tiny village of Paanai-phat. Red lights signify the deadly fever is high, though flood waters have receded somewhat. Farther out, hearth fires have been snuffed with no family alive to feed them. Continue reading
“Strange men. Is there any other kind?” she sighed, scanning the row of heavy, shaggy heads bent over the bar rail. Continue reading
I looked around me in confusion. Clearly, I’d dropped down the wrong rabbit hole.
Again. Continue reading
Lori always had the right answer.
Mavis counted on it: No decision, no responsibility.
Mavis lifted a brow. “Do we let ‘em in the boat?” Continue reading
Godzilla and King Kong sat at the edge of the airfield, munching happily in the sunshine. Fighting was hard work, and they were grateful the film crew had broken for the day. Continue reading
Dirk’s long, strong hands grasped the green, held over the deep-brown bamboo bowl, and tore in lingering, sensuous movements. Lettuce had never looked so inviting. Continue reading