A place for short fiction and poetry while your coffee brews or your tea steeps
Jared leaned against the bar, one boot heel hooked on the rail. His spurs lay next to his whiskey, silent as the glass was empty. Time to decide.
He could ride south to his father’s oil refinery. That way lay fine suits, easy money, easier women. His father’d left his family, but he might want to know his son. The resemblance? Startling , if his mother Lula’s cameo locket was any indication. Continue reading “Storm Windows”
The days were endless, the nights not long enough. She was tired, but too well-rested. She had all she needed to restore her health, but was weary of doing the work to rejoin the world.
Karoline felt the ache in her back radiate around to her front, the pressure increasing. She breathed deeply, willing her belly to unclench. Thinking herself safe to hike alone, she’d fled her family, their sole skill for processing grief in quarreling.
The yard was covered, leaves bright yellow, and wet from last night’s rain. Randall shook his head, tipped his cap to scratch his balding pate, and looked up to the sky. No help there. Rainclouds fisted up again overhead. Continue reading “And Then the Sun Shone”
I dreamt last night of snow.
It lay,
A thin blanket over vibrant late summer.
Silent white, still as death,
Satisfying in its containment.
The road ahead was long, no end in sight. Maybe relief…just over that hill? She couldn’t be sure. Continue reading “Road Crew”
Unexpected, not unprecedented. Lucy opened the cabin door to a wall of snow. Stores, as well as spirits, were running low. Something had to liven the hard tack and rabbit stew, hairy root vegetables and pale wrinkled peas. Continue reading “Summer Memory in Winter”
Clara’s thumbs tick-tocked the steering wheel’s curve, her eyes intent on any break in the blocked-up freeway traffic. She’d said what needed to be said. She was done. Continue reading “Sweet Jam”
Fiction Writing
Lance Greenfield - Night Writer
"Many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are." -J.K. Rowling-
Original Writing Inspired by King, Poe, and The Twilight Zone
Walk On The Wild Side
Share, Discover & Enjoy
Short, sharp flash fiction
Growing older with silliness, high spirits and a lot of heart.
