A place for short fiction and poetry while your coffee brews or your tea steeps
Hannah couldn’t stand it any longer: so many sad faces, mouths turned down with refusal after refusal, so bad that no one dared a joyful and barbaric “Yawp!” a la Whitman, or even a comic, life-saving “Yopp!” as Horton had heard it. Continue reading “Zuzu’s Petals”
I hold this in my cupped hands,
Stare into its depths.
Red and orange flicker, leap and stab.
Smoky, shifting colors blacken and curl
Its abundant petals. Continue reading “Bouquet of Shadows”
We’d started loading at the dawning of the third moon. Triage overflowed after the fifth wave from the Kipstanian Crisis. We tried to get the word out to all survivors; transport off our doomed planet ended today. Continue reading “Before The Gold Rush”
At the base of a mountain, a glacial stream sweeps past the edge of a small forest clearing. Two teen brothers squat in the twilight, near a tangle of copper tubes and tin barrels, their close-cropped hair burnt to summer straw. Continue reading “The Still”
Air quality alerts had been on “Severe” for the past two months. The pub was filled with exhausted workers.
Lance Greenfield - Night Writer
"Many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are." -J.K. Rowling-
Original Writing Inspired by King, Poe, and The Twilight Zone
Walk On The Wild Side
“The lyfe so short, the craft so long to lerne." --Chaucer
A writing blog by H.R.R. Gorman
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Curiosity run amok . . .
