Lonesome Spirits
Hank spun the glass clumsily on the wet bar top, watching the amber liquid slosh at the sides and grab at what little light came from the room. At the other end of the bar, Tom raised an eyebrow and studied Hank carefully while wiping down hot, clean glassware with a towel. “Hey, mister, you…
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Adrift
I can no longer feel my body. I still have one, but I stopped being aware of its familiar boundaries some time ago; perhaps I no longer have need of its restrictive comfort. My mind no longer obliged to the limitations of the light, I release myself to the freedom of the darkness, surprised at the…
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Paper Mountain – #Flash4Storms
On Tuesday, I usually run a flash fiction written in response to the weekly prompt from Charli Mills over at Carrot Ranch Communications. Weekly flash fiction prompts are taking a break in the barn for the time being as we kick off this month’s Flash Fiction Rodeo over at the ranch. I still have a…
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Anticipating Harvest
Where did he go, she wondered, when he left her? His retreat was much more than physical absence. No, this separation ran deeper. He left not only her, but himself and the world as well. While he remained in that suspended state, efforts to harvest even the slightest sprout of affection from him proved fruitless;…
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Shattered
The house bore 300 years of family history in its hard stone walls, and while Miranda’s time here had always been joyful, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something caught here, something beyond the surface of the walls. The large plate glass mirrors in the parlor and the upstairs hallway in particular had…
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Riptide
Sometimes when I stand on the rocks, the water is gentle. The sun throws splashes of daylight stars to tickle my feet. Other days, the water is playful. The breeze laughs, blows bubbles around my ankles and knees, pretending these small waves can topple me. On darker days, the water churns by swiftly, and it…
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Open Water
“You’re afraid of the water,” they said when Morgan bought the little sailboat, “why would you buy a boat?” They laughed when she said, “Just in case.” It was true that Morgan feared the water, and so it was no surprise to anyone – Morgan included – that year after year the little boat stayed…
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The Wishing Well – A Six Sentence Story Revisited
Time again for Six Sentence Stories! This week I’m letting an older post fill my slot on the grid. Follow the link below to my story inspired by the word WELL. There you’ll also find the link to Ivy Walker’s blog where you can check out this week’s link-up grid and read more stories from…
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In the Morning Light
Looking at Paris in this light, Jean-Luc mourned the passing of time. He sat easily on the park bench with one arm draped over the back and pulled a slow, hard drag from his cigarette. The slightest whisper of morning rose behind the trees and bathed the park in elegant rose-gold dew. As the hour…
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The View from My Window
I can tell just by looking at the sky that it is a perfect early summer evening. My mind drifts from the droning conversation in the room – group sharing or something equally ineffective – and leaps instead to the tree branches the wind jostles playfully just outside the second-floor window. I can guess the…
