“What goes around, comes around, again and again and again,” Sharlie muttered, shuffling her feet – along with all her fellow shift workers at Widgetties Inc — over the cracks and buckles in the sidewalk that led up to the factory’s tall, iron double doors. Her steel-toed boots were worn, soles held to uppers with fraying duct tape. “Uh-huh, Baby needs a new pair of shoes, but first she needs a different, better job.” Continue reading
freedom
Don’t Stop Believin’
Annalisa stared down at the menu, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple in the dim light of late night. The other pages were just as crowded with options, all of them equally unappetizing, but she knew she had to make a decision, and knew that Rory, sitting opposite her at the patio table, was beetling his brows and tugging at his walrus-like mustache. As was his habit, he waited in judgment, ready to trumpet his corrections to whatever choice she might make. Continue reading
Cut and Run
Scrubbing her hands over her face, she replayed the voicemail. Listening for clues that said otherwise, she accepted that nothing had changed. She was to comply, absolutely.
New World In the Morning
Hunched over the bar rail, leaning into the bowl of free peanuts, having made his way from the bright morning, across a treacherous savannah of broken shells, pull-tabs and a number of suspicious sticky spots, Artie noted he was out of money and therefore, on his final drink. Continue reading
Sunday Morning
I lift my paddle for a moment, hearing but not noting the drip of water that slides off its smooth, blond curve. My canoe slices through the morning cool, bisecting and self-healing the waters as I pass. Below the dark water, silent lake grass caresses sand and small, secret pebbles. Continue reading
Light At the End of the Tunnel
Source: Cypress swamp near Caddo Lake, NE TX. Erich Schlegel (08/08/2009)
Dipping her paddle expertly, Sara struggled against the increasingly muscular pull of the current. The sun rose, set, and rose again, unnoticed under the moss-choked cypress trees that canopied the dark creek. Continue reading
The Romance of the Rails
(Photo by Otto C. Perry, courtesy of Denver Public Library, Western History and Genealogy Dept.)
In TUFF Love, Carrot Ranch’s Charli Mills asked participants to revise an original western romance through a 99-59-9-99 word process with each step requiring a different craft twist. This event is an exercise of inspiration through to editing. I didn’t enter this one because it turned out to be more about discovering heart’s desire of Self, than traditional Romance. But I still like it, so I share with you all.
Original 99-word Draft: Molly Rides the Rails
Molly rode the rails these days. Cities had sprung up, like oozing boils, over the open prairie she loved. With the spread of progress came the spread of stifling rules.
Forced by her father to shed her buckskin, don heavy skirts with tight collars, binding her hair from the wind’s caressing fingers, she appeared the perfect little miss. Continue reading
Valley 