We’d started loading at the dawning of the third moon. Triage overflowed after the fifth wave from the Kipstanian Crisis. We tried to get the word out to all survivors; transport off our doomed planet ended today. Continue reading “Before The Gold Rush”
His long spatulate fingers, joints knobby as cherry pits, cup a bouquet of fresh dwarf roses. He shifts from foot to foot within the grove of birch trees, anxious over his late arrival at the graveyard. Continue reading “His Secret, and Hers”
“Drat!” he wheezed, at the lateness of the hour and the inconvenience of having once again misplaced his pince-nez. Where in the world was that girl? Continue reading “Twisted Kid Lit”
Blast from the past, or “You HAD to encourage her, didn’t you!?”
Tracy Fabre and Con Chapman, from back in the Gather days: In a comment on his Gather post today, Con said he wanted to go into the business of providing writing prompts. I “hired” him (pro bono, of course) to suggest a prompt for this week. He said, “A priest, a rabbi and a lady snake charmer walk into a bar…”
Now run with it, folks. Continue reading “A priest, a rabbi and a lady snake charmer walk into a bar…”
We waited, stamped our feet in the deep snow. Night was at its longest; Bitter Winter ruled. Today Santa Lucia would arrive, her crown of candles pushing back the darkness, her basket of hot cranberry-cardamom buns and those sweet, tiny oranges swinging heavy on her lissome arm.
But the dawn didn’t come. Continue reading “Happy Santa Lucia Day! (Dec 13th)”