He lay the quill down beside his Manifesto, reaching to close the cap on the near-empty inkwell. Continue reading
Blast from the past, or “You HAD to encourage her, didn’t you!?”
Tracy Fabre and Con Chapman, from back in the Gather days: In a comment on his Gather post today, Con said he wanted to go into the business of providing writing prompts. I “hired” him (pro bono, of course) to suggest a prompt for this week. He said, “A priest, a rabbi and a lady snake charmer walk into a bar…”
Now run with it, folks.
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“I swear, if you sing that one more time, I’ll push you out the hatch myself.”
“Aw lighten up, Schmitty,” Dirk laughed at his co-pilot. “I just can’t wait to get home!” Continue reading
The granite was rough and hot under her bare feet. She squatted by the tidal pool, peering at the life teeming beneath her. Continue reading
(Synopsis in a 9-word flash): Waitress Helen saves the day, vanquishing slimy memory monster.
The Task: In five differently structured flash challenges, write and develop a 599-word story (beginning, middle, end) of a hero’s transformation after facing a crisis, per Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Transformation.”
The Final Story:
Shelly, in her booth, flips her hair back to catch a glimpse of kitchen staff, Josh. His honestly-earned farmer’s tan flashes below his white t-shirt as he lugs a tub of dishes to the kitchen. She parts her lips. He blushes and smiles. Continue reading
Lilimor gazed across the field of wild strawberries into the Great Wood. She didn’t have enough berries to fill her basket, but the fiddle called her to the waterfall within. Its song enticed, one she almost recognized and had to sing. Continue reading
Spoon coffee grounds into the BPA-free filter, the scent a bright hit in the ice-crystal kitchen. Cat slurps his morning meal, shoulders hunched protectively over his bowl. Continue reading
Meaghan drew deep on her cigarette, pinching its stub between thumb and forefinger. She could pull a Houdini and just disappear, but in this case, with this guy, she knew he deserved better. Continue reading
We waited, stamped our feet in the deep snow. Night was at its longest; Bitter Winter ruled. Today Santa Lucia would arrive, her crown of candles pushing back the darkness, her basket of hot cranberry-cardamom buns and those sweet, tiny oranges swinging heavy on her lissome arm.
But the dawn didn’t come. Continue reading
“All I remember,” I pause, heaving a shuddering sigh, “Was walking into the downstairs parlor. It was dark, but I smelled swampland. Continue reading
Impression management. Measured words. Think before you write. Continue reading
Twin-bladed helicopters dumped the bright red slurry (water and fertilizer) on the manically dancing flames, then swooped through the smoky haze to the reservoir, to refill for another drop. Even with no wind, the wildfire gobbled the grassy plain, Continue reading
Wake up. Open your eyes. Or not.
Stretch from the tip of your chilly nose, through the arms and shoulders, down your back, deep into the gluteus max, into the length of your calves and out through the end of each toe. Continue reading
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