There’d be no dancing in the pub that night. Air quality alerts had been on “Severe” for the past three months, and the popular Sorrowing Gnome, with its airtight construction, was filled with exhausted workers. Pub owner Tommy Finn leaned an elbow against the bar and stared at the TV above.
Midtown writers
Blank, Blank, Energy Breakthrough
The room sits at low-tide. Eddies twirl sluggish through muddy gray waters. Slow eyelids blink, sleepy frogs gathered ‘round in a circle. We hope that gathering and moving pen across paper will stir enough energy in this morning’s free-association writing group to stir those eddies into rivulets of free-flowing inspiration. Continue reading
Tag, You’re It!
There he was, round saucer eyes, nose waggling like a sausage hot in the pan, spiky black hair reaching every which way. True, I couldn’t really see him, but I knew he was just around the corner in the upper hallway of the Hold, laughing his slow, goofy laugh. Continue reading
The Day-Old Biscuit Trilogy
I
Dinner with Delores was always a challenge. A perfectionist, she had to have the right sauces, vegetables sliced just so, and meats hand-picked at the local butcher’s. They rolled their eyes after she left their counter, but she always got the top quality she demanded. Continue reading
Reality Bites
“Strange men. Is there any other kind?” she sighed, scanning the row of heavy, shaggy heads bent over the bar rail. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 