“Here’s the point of entry.” Becky stared at the coil of barbed wire. “Strange. Why wrap it so neatly on the fence post? Why not cut it and keep going?” Steve crossed his arms. “They’re probably local. This fence and land belong old man Monger. Even the folk from the hollers won’t mess with…
“What is it?” Nervous fingers hovered over the black and white page. “I think… it’s a spell book.” “A spell book? Really? Why would Mrs. Donahue have a spell book?” Louise glared at Haley. “Obviously she’s a witch.” Haley scrunched up her face. “You think?” “Definitely. Look around. Her backyard’s a huge herb garden. She…
And I’m very excited about it! Because, well, awards! Who doesn’t like them?! On a more serious note, I’m flattered to have been nominated for a Liebster Award by another writer and blogger, Dawn Claflin. She selected me for my focus on writing, specifically essays, flash fiction and book reviews. Aw, shucks. (*Blushes and toes the ground.*)…
Curiosity and The Cat Her gait is stealthy, self-assured. She slips through the jungle without disturbing the undergrowth. High above and concealed by thick foliage, I follow her, studying. Hair, black as the night. Cream-colored skin stretches over sinewy muscles. She moves like a panther: A hunter, confident of her status. It would not be so…
Mother of Manipulation: Realistic fiction, 96 words. The bloom edges up above the dry dirt. A splash of color, a dash of hope. Is it real this time? Will there be warmth and love? Or a snap back to the cruel climate, to experiences not soon forgotten? We’ve been here before. She, acting as…
This marked my second year of NYC Midnight writing challenges, beginning 2016 with the Short Story Challenge. The field is more than 2100 this time, in 60 heats! Each writer is assigned to a group of 35 writers with specific genre, subject matter and character that must be central to the plot. For round 1, the stories were…
Eyes closed, she whispered. End it. This week’s Literary Lion challenge, courtesy of Laura Gabrielle Feasey, was a six-word story based on the prompt Star.
Fabric rustled and the hood was jerked off. Blinding light seared her retinas. A meaty hand gripped Jane’s left arm, forcing her onward. She glanced over her shoulder. The hand belonged to a thick man in black. He ignored her backwards look. The toe of her right shoe caught and she stumbled. His hand tightened,…
My one-year mark of becoming a more active member of the blogging community is rapidly approaching! In preparation of this anniversary, I’ve been planning a revamp of the blog. There are areas that would benefit from more attention, and those that don’t fit as well anymore. It’s been hard to cut some blogging topics out, but they’re necessary…
I rotate the mug once, twice, then back to its original position. Handle perpendicular to the table edge. Steep the tea bag. Then again. The entrance reflects in the mirror along the back wall. Customers sit reading papers, chatting quietly or staring at their own steaming brews. A figure moves past the stained glass…
VCE Chemistry teacher in Melbourne, Australia
a 100-word story every day
The Mom Who Runs: 