Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=FLAG. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES. This is all I got for you right now!
My head is hot, tight—gimme a squeeze and my eyeballs will pop,
Plop into the space that separates your body from mine—
You’d burn from the kiss I might steal were I not so sick.
But it’s all right.
Many thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr for their photo prompt, The Unicorn Challenge (05/10/2024). No more than 250 words in length.
Hildie was at her wit’s end. Franz had always been forgetful, more interested in the mechanics of lock-work, how to build a better mousetrap, and getting just the right measurements to repair the town’s old clock tower. His work was much admired, his prices more than reasonable, so his peculiarities were forgiven by the townsfolk and accepted as the oddities of a brilliant mind. Continue reading
Drizzling rain and snow for three days straight had left Sonja aching and weary to her bones, trying to keep the household on an even keel, and her own sanity mostly intact. Continue reading
She’d gotten in near midnight, after her evening shift at the group home. Her own home was a shambles: beer cans and wine bottles, scummy bong water, butts strewn all over the floor, some of them human. They weren’t supposed to be here.
Rodney emerged from the bedroom, a very drunk, half-clothed Britanny hanging off his shoulder, sharing his satiated grin.
“Sheralynn,” Rodney drew up his familiar shield of nonchalance. “I thought you were working a double shift.”
“They sent me home. Likely COVID exposure,” she wiped her brow, unsure if it was fever, or rage. “Everybody out. Now.”
Red lights glow in outlying huts of the tiny village of Paanai-phat. Red lights signify the deadly fever is high, though flood waters have receded somewhat. Farther out, hearth fires have been snuffed with no family alive to feed them. Continue reading
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