A place for short fiction and poetry while your coffee brews or your tea steeps
“You sure this is gonna work, Jonas?”
“Have I ever steered you wrong before, Boy?”
Peter muttered, “Only for a higher purpose. Or so you say.”
Jonas grinned, his double row of needle-sharp teeth glinting in the cavern’s incandescence. His hearing was quite acute, even for a centuries-old creature as himself. Continue reading “Thunder and Lightning”
Ms. Lillian’s shoes padded down the archived stacks, overhead lights cooling to darkness in her wake. “Here Rainbow kitty! Time to go. There’s a bowl of kibble at home with your name on it!” Continue reading “Library Cat”
(Not sure where this came from, but consider it a delayed Halloween treat.)
The good ship “Serenity’” welcomed all who dared tread her boards and strut the stage after sunset. But there was a price for admission, one that a surprising number of folk from all walks and situations were willing to pay. Continue reading “Serenity and Dead William’s Island”
The road ahead was long, no end in sight. Maybe relief…just over that hill? She couldn’t be sure. Continue reading “Road Crew”
“You’re certain this will work?” The charm, clasped in Anna’s smooth young hand, was redolent of rose hips, cinnamon, and sweet basil…and something exotic from the far southern lands. Eyes shining with hopeful, as yet unshed tears, she clasped the woven bag to her breast.
She stands in the shadows of the hidden cove, pebbles clacking quietly under her bare feet, salt water lapping at her toes.
“What does she want?” the ocean wonders. “Is she here as supplicant, queen, or warrior?” Continue reading “A Desperate Balance”
Sweat slid down between her breasts, over her taut belly, dipping into her round navel and dampening the fabric of her summer shorts. Her sports bra was soaked, unable to absorb more sweet summer effusions. Continue reading “So Hot”
She’d let the dandelions go unchecked too long. Creeping Charlie was on the march, cannons of blue and green vines poised, ready to trip the unwary.
Nevertheless, she persisted. There were city ordinances and fines to deal with. Continue reading “To the Victor Go…”
It's All True, None of It's True. Don't Ask.
Words of a clarklike female
A writing blog by H.R.R. Gorman
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