Stream of consciousness as I listen to this song sent to me this morning from my son.
Sleep Token: Take me back to Eden. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k8h50PjQozw Continue reading
love
Bells
© Ayr/Gray
Many thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr for their photo prompt for THE UNICORN CHALLENGE (01/10/2025). No more than 250 words in length.
“I’m not so sure about this.” Maisie, hands in sweatshirt pockets, looked sidewise at Ted. “Why are we doing this again?”
“Because it’s what we’ve always done.” Ted’s hands were calloused from many years of woodworking, and his strong, blunt fingers rasped across his unshaven jaw. He’d gladly traded his family business’ corporate ID for the scent of fresh wood and aromatic finishers. But the family’s silent disapproval of his choice still smarted. Continue reading
Dragon Tale
The tunnel was twisted and long, hard rock alternating with slippery sand, no light shining through its natural chimneys as she’d been told to come during night time; she knew the way, having traversed so many times, and knew that the rising humidity heralded the glow of underground mushrooms.
Zillarda waited for the visitor, curled tight around her steadily-decreasing horde. Continue reading
Tradition
The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: SHADOW. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES. The Café is open. Come as you are!
Her work had only just begun, but the timeline was tight, tempers frayed, and there would be many hours before she could shut down the kitchen and rest her head. Continue reading
Finding the Right One
The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: BENEFIT. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES. The Café is open. Come as you are!
[I have no explanation for this one, but still, I’m not sorry!]
Glorg gripped his leather belt at either side of his round belly, and stepped boldly into a shop that smelled like fresh mown grass and cooled barbecue grill, tipping his head as much as his neckless body would allow, smiling in satisfaction at the sheer masculinity (as he imagined it to be) of the enterprise. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 