Bundled in yards of heavy cloth and batting, the only signs of life are a red nose and beady eye.
Lamplight softens the tragic scene, but the furnace is out. Continue reading
Based on a true story, or real-world
Bundled in yards of heavy cloth and batting, the only signs of life are a red nose and beady eye.
Lamplight softens the tragic scene, but the furnace is out. Continue reading
The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: PITCH. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on Six Sentence Stories
“Hey, you got a moment?” Jake tapped the screen door once before pushing it open, its steel spring screeching objection at the interruption. Continue reading
The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: BEAM. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on Six Sentence Stories
She’d stepped outside the cabin “to get a breath of fresh air,” she’d said, and pulled the door closed behind her with a soft hiss and snap — something like a snake rattling warning before it bites. Continue reading
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your own creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “CUP”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
***(For those of us riding out the heat wave)***
She’d stepped outside the cabin door to get a breath of fresh air, happy for the puff parka and shearling-lined boots, but wishing she’d worn her ski pants and heavy choppers as well; the bench iced her bum and her fingertips stung. Continue reading
From Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr’s photo prompt, The Unicorn Challenge(08/26/23). No more than 250 words in length. Otherwise, let your creative flag fly!
“Hey Emil, where ya headed?” Olaf cycled like Old Nick himself, trying to catch up with his childhood friend.
Emil slowed his bicycle and halted, gingerly slipping off the extra-wide seat that Dorothea had gifted him to encourage his getting in shape, on account of his tricky ticker. He sorely missed her dark black coffee, her cardamom buns, even her often sharp tongue. But she’d made him promise before she died, and two years later, he was fit enough to give Olaf a run for his money. Continue reading
Shuffle ‘cross the kitchen, sharp drop to hardwood chair.
Looks like no break, no midnight magic to slake my thirst.
Skin crackles painful, radiates heat.
How long has it been? Continue reading
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