Andrew stood, patting his pockets for the matchbox, and noticed a hollow in the tunnel wall, the same size as the plaque of runes gleaming on the oozing mudslide before him. He blinked, surprised. There were runes on the wall, as well! Continue reading
Eloise leaned back, one hand on the steering wheel of her mother’s Ford Mondeo Wagon, and grew increasingly annoyed at the jam that stopped traffic for miles, as it did every Friday when she had to drive her young twin sisters to her mother’s second ex-husband’s home from the house they all shared with her brother, Andrew, and her mother. 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. We share our responses back to Linda’s page, and are able to read what others come up with. Most days, I post my responses every few days in bundles, but today’s single prompt – UNICORN — reminded me of a fun piece I wrote in late 2020, in the Before Times. And if this prompt tickles your imagination, please click the connecting link on the bottom of the post to read others’ responses!
During late 2020, the Rough Writers of Carrot Ranch were challenged to write a 99-word flash that combined Romance and Western; I guess in that sense, the task might classify as Speculative Fiction, with my addition of a magical unicorn. In order to get to the final flash, we all had to cycle through a series of steps/products that varied in number of words, point of view, tagline, and weird trope prop. That’s the technical, but read on for what turned out to be a revelation for me, and hopefully, entertaining for you: Romance of the Rails.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
To see others’ Jan 9 responses click the following:
“What is all this stuff?” George leaned into the workroom, one hand on the door frame, afraid to step beyond the door sill and into what looked to him like an explosion in a junk yard. Continue reading
Sister Indelicata left the cacophony of squeals and laughter behind her; the tall, hardwood door sneezed delicately shut, blessing the happy, healed family. Indelicata’s bare feet whispered swift and sure, softer than the guttering of the beeswax candles that provided more scent than light. Continue reading