“The best-laid plans.”
“The egg unhatched.”
“The circle, its ends unmet.”
“A triad missing its third…”
“Thus only a dyad.”
The nave is cold, cheerless,
No sun to set stained glass windows afire with stories. Continue reading
Rodeo Event #2: Who Will Walk the Plank?
Apologies to Ray Walston!
Countdown from the Carrot Ranch Contest: Pro Bull Mashup in 99 words (for more detail, see the link below).
Captain Hand sneered, boot heels pounding across the bridge of Starship Ridgemont. “You abandoned your post, Ensign Spicoli. My orders will be followed without question!” Continue reading
Take a Chance, Change Your Life
Image by Annalise Batista from Pixabay
Extended version: Take a Chance, Change Your Life
We were never quite clear about how they got into the tool shed, how long they’d been there, or where they came from originally. They’d arrived before we did, and will likely leave long after we’ve gone. If they ever do leave. Continue reading
Rodeo Event #3: How Rhonda Got Her Wings
Countdown from the Carrot Ranch Contest: Three Act Story in 99 words (for more, see the link below)
Rhonda made sure to never be first in line, nor last to leave, always included but never singled out. But just between her shoulder blades, an itch whispered, “Step forward…take a risk!” Continue reading
Rodeo Event #4: Bucky’s Baked Beans, A Love Story with Two Spoons
Countdown from the Carrot Ranch Contest: Re-visioning your flash in 4 steps (for more, see the link below)
Step One: 99 word flash, to include “beans”
Bucky’s Beans
It was definitely not what I was expecting. I thought we’d celebrate Bucky’s return from her Antarctic dogsled adventure with a lavish meal, and go shake our butts at a dance club. Maybe not that last one. Bucky’d only been home for two weeks.
What I saw was Bucky on the couch in sweats and wool socks, legs folded underneath her, spoon dipping into a can of baked beans.
I hid my dismay, but not well enough.
“When you’ve been living off a dogsled, a can of beans is a feast.”
I sighed, grabbing a spoon from the kitchen. Continue reading
An Old Romance
She rinsed the last dish and set it in the drainer. Days had again grown short, this season and over the years. The leaves, crisp from a day’s rain and evening’s temps, were barely visible out the window. Her silhouette softened in its reflection; the living room light glowed orange behind her. Continue reading
Storm Windows
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
