Bundled in yards of heavy cloth and batting, the only signs of life are a red nose and beady eye.
Lamplight softens the tragic scene, but the furnace is out. Continue reading
Bundled in yards of heavy cloth and batting, the only signs of life are a red nose and beady eye.
Lamplight softens the tragic scene, but the furnace is out. Continue reading
Shuffle ‘cross the kitchen, sharp drop to hardwood chair.
Looks like no break, no midnight magic to slake my thirst.
Skin crackles painful, radiates heat.
How long has it been? Continue reading
Subzero, Fahrenheit -451outside my window, but that’s really just me whining; we’ve been promised a high of 0 degrees F today, but the sun is shining hard through my south-facing windows to make my black cat’s fur hot. Continue reading
So, this month I’m doing a challenge to write a micro a day, for Just-Jot-It-January. Thanks to Linda G. Hill, bloggers in the “Play Group” have proposed a one-word prompt for each day. Today’s prompt, “TEMPEST” was my suggestion! We share our responses back to Linda’s page, and are able to read what others come up with. I’ll post my responses every few days in bundles, to respect your in-boxes. But if a prompt tickles your imagination, please click its connecting link to read more!
Jan 7: Tempest
Eye of the Storm
It’d been one hell of a night. She came home from the evening shift to find the kitchen sink full, with dishes, as well as soapy water. This suggested an attempt had been made. Baby steps, she told herself, and opted to leave the mess for tomorrow. Continue reading
There’s a spot on the jaw, and under the chin,
That my fingers can touch, when he truly leans in.
Then his eyes squeeze shut and his head tips way back,
And I’m turning the tables with The Method Attack.
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
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