© Ayr/Gray
It’s an inside job for sure.
I gaze out at the fat, fresh snow falling, fairy voices singing with bell-like giggles as winds gust and tumble them into one another. Not yet time for Spring cleaning. It’s only February. Yet an urgent inner tug tells me to create something to meet the pure snowfall half way. Continue reading
©Linda G Hill
It’s nearly the end of January, and the Northlands here hold memories of deep snow and crippling cold temps. Instead, we have 40 degrees Fahrenheit and full-on sun. Continue reading
The fridge breathes deep, mostly emptied of odds and ends ready for renewal in a whirl of call and response with the cook. An oversized Dutch Oven dozes on the right front burner, still-winter sun sliding behind the trees. Continue reading
The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: POOL. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES. The Café is open. Come as you are!
Eyes closed, she tips her chin upward to catch the sun’s soothing caress; this-get-away-from-cruel-winter vacation had been a long time coming, precious personal leave hours hoarded and approved by her boss long in advance. Continue reading
Stream of Conscousness: January can be a dry month, creatively. Up here in the Midwest, kissing distance to Canada, it gets cold and dark. The last few years we haven’t got much in the way of snow – ok, so I exaggerate…I’m in the TC area – but everything is hard and monochromatic. Stark. Continue reading
Woke up to subzero temps this morning, grateful that there is nothing…NOTHING…that requires me to go outside the house today. Yesterday, I returned overdue library books (a gothic horror novel by Elizabeth Hand, and a thick collection of Pablo Neruda poems), picked up a few grocery necessities, and got that teaspoon-sized dose of human interaction that’ll do me for about a week. Cuz Introvert. Continue reading
The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: LIFT. Visit, comment, and write & perhaps post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES
The marina is silent at this hour of the morning, sunrise more a wish than anything else, the partiers in the far slips for larger boats having finally gone to sleep. Continue reading
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