Image by William Hatherell
“Wake me up, when September ends?”
“It won’t be that long.”
“See you in September?”
“Surely, they’ll lift restrictions before then.”
“You’re the one who keeps saying no.” Continue reading
Invitation to a Rave
BOTS
Shields Down
She’d gotten in near midnight, after her evening shift at the group home. Her own home was a shambles: beer cans and wine bottles, scummy bong water, butts strewn all over the floor, some of them human. They weren’t supposed to be here.
Rodney emerged from the bedroom, a very drunk, half-clothed Britanny hanging off his shoulder, sharing his satiated grin.
“Sheralynn,” Rodney drew up his familiar shield of nonchalance. “I thought you were working a double shift.”
“They sent me home. Likely COVID exposure,” she wiped her brow, unsure if it was fever, or rage. “Everybody out. Now.”
Romantic Evening in Quarantine
“How long ago did you order that pizza?” Sheralynn tipped her wine glass to catch the last drop.
“Hmmm?” Rodney examined the hole in his tube sock, intent on covering up his big toe without using his hands. Continue reading
Shopping for Essentials
“What the heck is that?”
“A new recipe for Stay at Home.”
“What you got in there?”
“Beans, tomato sauce, dark brown sugar, Tabasco, the last of that lunch meat…” Continue reading
A Wild Hare: Post-pandemica
This week’s prompt from Carrot Ranch was to write a microfiction off the prompt “A rabbit on the roof.” Challenge accepted. Hope you all enjoy and empathize!
Creds to Wild Hare (Merrie Melodies. 07/27/1940)
A Wild Hare: Post-pandemica
I looked in the mirror, unsure. Six months quarantine, but now it’s safe to go out. I stepped out back, hesitating to shake free the sheet full of recently cut hair. Could this be used? Continue reading
The Open Road
The Chevy accelerates and tops the hill’s summit, before twisting and plunging into the ravine. A duffle bag and body detach, and arc onto the dirt shoulder. They disappear into the dust cloud created by the truck’s struggle with the gravel road. Continue reading
Library Cat
Ms. Lillian’s shoes padded down the archived stacks, overhead lights cooling to darkness in her wake. “Here Rainbow kitty! Time to go. There’s a bowl of kibble at home with your name on it!” Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 