© Ayr/Gray
First step? Draw the chalk outline.
Berta sat back on her heels, trying to remember the next step from Baba’s grimoire. She was sure she’d gotten all the right ingredients: white chalk, pint jar of honey, ten pound sack of dirt from Janeesa’s grave. There were words she needed to say, herbs to sprinkle as she said them. Continue reading
Two 99-word tales of love and avocado toast.
Tea and Sympathy
“What’s the plan for today?” he asked.
Georgia watched out the window as squirrels chased each other through new-fallen snow, then up and around the trunk of the red oak they’d planted at Jessi’s birth. Snow chunks dropped like overcooked spuds. Continue reading
Elbows on bent knees,
Hands dangle between, wings on a gentle-breezed bird.
Butt planted, chilly on Autumnal Earth.
Grass spent, golden and crackling
Under a sky sharp as blue porcelain.
Leaves flicker down from balding trees,
The memories still, cut deep.
She stood by last night’s bonfire. Flames leapt high, our drunken faces and dancing limbs in hideous relief, like Dante’s inferno on the shore of this northern bay. Continue reading
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
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