Photo by Yuliya on Pexels.com
The Gull cries warning, but Gwyneth is late to work in the Manse’s scullery. She’s agreed to pay off Auntie Shallah’s debts from drink and gambling. Shallah had bet her tailfin; she’s now imprisoned by Pastor Johnson. Continue reading
Ryan McGuire from Pixabay
Bonnie Bunny was done. She was through trying to compromise, fit in, smooth over, calm waters, appeal to reason, go with the plan. She’d had enough of rolling with the punches, putting on a happy face, counting her blessings, and waiting for tomorrow. Continue reading
She dropped her pen, hand cramping. Why had she defined success as the number of pages she filled? Continue reading
Crystal bottles stood before her, hip shot in relaxed groups. Scented soldiers, they had no expectation they’d be called to order; Treena preferred sweatpants to skinny jeans, books to bodies grinding on a dance floor. Continue reading
Basics first:
Butter, on countertop, softened with time
Sugar, stored frozen ‘gainst careless craving
Egg twins, room temperature, golden eyes wide
Dash of vanilla, razor-sharp sweet Continue reading
She swore, smacking her forehead with her fist, once, twice, a third time. This couldn’t happen, not when perfect delivery was so critical. Continue reading
Winslow Homer 1893
Winter sun slides beneath the treeline, crosses the final lavender mile home with strips of deep purple, pale magenta. Neither warms this sub-zero trek. Progress marked by the flash of slender ski tips through new-fallen snow, my rasping breath through a strip of wool scarf. Continue reading
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
A.I. Art and Poetry
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
Chel Owens
Live music in St Paul Minnesota
pagan songs & tales
Poets Pub
Writing/Tales + Tails + Culture + Compassion
my views.. my way
Challenging the barriers of the way we define reality
Stories and thoughts about being a queer girl geek in the 21st Century.
Valley of the Trolls 