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Rapture

/ Liz H-H / 17 Comments
Night view of a city street, post rain, described in text

© Ayr/Gray

Many thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr for their photo prompt, THE UNICORN CHALLENGE. 10/18/2024). No more than 250 words in length.

It’s dark, past midnight on Edgewater Ridge. The night is closed and starless, though the rain passed through less than a half an hour ago. Except for the line of cars parked along one side of the street, nothing moves through the shadows or under the sporadically spaced houselights.           Continue reading →

Summer Day

/ Liz H-H / 13 Comments
Woman with hiking poles, standing at the side of a road, tall mountains across a field and creek behind her.

© Ayr/Gray

Many thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr for their photo prompt, THE UNICORN CHALLENGE. (10/11/2024). No more than 250 words in length.

Agatha Marie had been an intrepid hypothetical explorer all her life. Impatient with the boring landscapes of the Midwest USA – cornfields in every direction, surrounding the lackadaisical cow or ten nibbling a fenced green pasture – she decided to risk all and transform the hypothetical into the empirical.                Continue reading →

Mark of the Mountain Lion

/ Liz H-H / 27 Comments

Cougar at night

The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: CLAW. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES. The Café is open. Come as you are!

The girl kept to herself, eyes wary and movements silky like a night cat rounding a dark street corner, as she hopped off the back of the stagecoach just outside of Lula’s Saloon; she knew where she was headed but still distrusted the townfolk, based on all the stories she’d heard from other women who’d passed through Lula’s on their way to autonomy.              Continue reading →

Time 7: Goodbye

/ Liz H-H / 11 Comments

Tree of Life

She sighs, runs knobby fingers through graying hair. The increasingly wiry strands slide silky still through veined hands, and she smooths them down, twisting them into a tight knot just above the nape of her neck. Surveying the scatterings of UPS boxes, packed a little heavy for professional movers, she wonders at how a woman’s entire life can be reduced to the wreck and rubble before her. 

Or not.                  Continue reading →