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”
She picks up a marble, rolling and squeezing it in her palm at a searing memory of betrayal. Continue reading “Scraps From the Past”
The hare pulled a watch from his pocket, stretching it as far as the fob allowed.
“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”
“I swear, if you sing that one more time, I’ll push you out the hatch myself.”
“Aw lighten up, Schmitty,” Dirk laughed at his co-pilot. “I just can’t wait to get home!” Continue reading “Earworm”
Unseen, I observe.
Red shorts, shirtless, she digs tiny toes into the sand. A mutt stretches nearby, ears pricking as the girl narrates the world under her dirty hands. Continue reading “Time Traveler (Too Many Questions, Child!)”
Lilimor slipped out the back gate, trotting to the meadow as fast as her little legs could carry her. She’d wanted to arrive at sunrise, before anyone noticed she was gone. Continue reading “Grim Harvest”
“Find one that’s flat and smooth…no bigger than your palm.”
“Bigger than your palm?” she tipped her head. “Or mine?” Continue reading “Aw, Skip It!”
It's All True, None of It's True. Don't Ask.
Words of a clarklike female
A writing blog by H.R.R. Gorman
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