Source: Spencer Platt / Getty Images
Just like that, Kevin sneezed and knocked her sideways. The whirling contents cradled in her palms clumped and spilled sloppily forth. Lightning exploded. Snow became ice. Continue reading
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “METER”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
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“Maybe you oughtta check the meter, instead o’ just eyeballin’ tha thing?”
The answer to that was a raised eyebrow and a sharp chin notched upward…a bit of the hairy eyeball.
“I mean, the Grandmaster Grimoire says you have ta get the right combo, tha right timing, in tha right amount, or there’s gonna be major troubles, for sure.” Continue reading
Source: Incredible-Art-Gallery
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “VERGE”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
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“That’s quite a drop,” she murmured, peering into the abyss with raised eyebrows, adding, “and I’m not sure where it all ends.” Continue reading
Carrots. Original public domain image from Wikimedia Commons
Family, friends and relations were spread all about the warren’s floor, bellies pooched upwards, at the insistence of their innards. The holiday feast, so successful, meant that nobody had energy enough to grab the remote and turn on the football game. “Oh my!” they all sighed. Continue reading
Short tales from The Valley of the Trolls
Natalie was born in Enoch Bunch’s trailer bed, a-way pas’ midnight, under a rare third moon in chill October. Or maybe she was left there. Continue reading
Hugo, as a young one, as seen by Kittelson
Hugo was unhappy. He’d been left in the tree swing too long. The swing, his favorite, hung from a branch of the biggest Douglas fir on Heffinger Mountain. A snack, a nap, a swing in the sack, and he’d be a happy boy all day. Continue reading
It was a dark and stormy night, and the World War I Flying Ace, long since retired, having worked on his Great American Novel all morning and all afternoon, had finally reached the final page. Continue reading
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
A.I. Art and Poetry
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
Chel Owens
Live music in St Paul Minnesota
pagan songs & tales
Poets Pub
Writing/Tales + Tails + Culture + Compassion
my views.. my way
Challenging the barriers of the way we define reality
Stories and thoughts about being a queer girl geek in the 21st Century.
Valley of the Trolls 