Tag Archives: writing

Moving Day

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I don’t know how to do this. Amy Therriot-Winters sat in the foyer which featured, at the moment, fresh flowers on the entryway table and a new crystal chandelier over the stairwell. Her hand smoothed her linen slacks over and over while she looked at each piece of furniture and said good-bye to them. She had picked out each painting and drape herself, even the burled wood that stretched across the mantel. Her fireplace! The new house didn’t have one. Read the rest of this entry

Remember Gold Beach?

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ShinyBits

We picked up little pieces of my heart. All across the beach they glittered in the rays of
sunlight peeking through the clouds. We looked for the shiny bits while we laughed and talked
and created space in our minds to remember ourselves. To remember this day.

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My Fellow Man

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(Forty-five, Anteater, Karma)

I walked into the hospital room they put my son in. I was tired, kind of in shock. It was a semi-private room, holding a bathroom and two beds, separated by floor to ceiling curtains that could be drawn back. My son Donald was in the bed by the door. His appendix had burst. None of us had recognized the symptoms and by the time we realized there was something seriously wrong my husband Bill had to call an ambulance.  Bill would come in the car, as soon as he got my sister to sit with our six-year old daughter. Read the rest of this entry

Supernova Part 4

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Jim Rivers, a navigator, now finds himself leading the crew of the Valiant Explorer.  He has awakened everyone on board and held a conference with all the section leaders to detail the situation – their ship veered off course and has brought them into a strange solar system that is going supernova – in 3 days.  They cannot outrun it.  While everyone is shocked, a few voices of reason prevail – giving the team a possible plan to survive the explosion. 

They have decided to salvage usable parts from the ship and forge enough trinite to seal the connection points between as many modules as possible, in effect creating one very long spacecraft.   A memorial service was given for the captain and his first in command who died when a fire damaged their pods.

See the link at the top of the page for the full Supernova story.  Read the rest of this entry

Cheesy Party Bread

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(Garnish, Wise, Politics)

Dear Dorothy, December 1, 1948

I was glad to get your letter in the post. It was forwarded to us by the state department. You will notice that the return post on mine is Paris, France. Yes, my dear Paul has been stationed here for four years, four years! I shall love every minute of it, do you hear? Paris! Read the rest of this entry

“And They Call It, Puppy Love”

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Bojangles, Vineyard, Jackalope

Carl and Martha Dubois were sitting on the porch one summer morning.  Eighty year old Martha was doing a crossword puzzle from the paper, eighty-one year old Carl was reading the sports section.

“Carl.”  She had a distinct northern accent, and sounded a lot like Katharine Hepburn in “On Golden Pond.”
“Hmm?” He absently waved at a fly. Read the rest of this entry

Pet Shop in the Mall

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Indonesia, Javanese, Woman

(Another one for the kids)

Berani slowly opened her eyes.  Someone was crawling over her, sticking their legs into her belly and sliding down her back.  She rolled away and rubbed her face, hiding her eyes.  She could smell wood shavings; it was a smell she always associated with hamsters and gerbils.  They were like captive mice to her, always behind glass and inaccessible.  Not the same smell as the rats that roamed the floors and shelves at night.  They were dark, furtive things that darted around the floor looking for food.  The ones that lived in the walls and floors.  She would like to run and chase and catch them!  It was a vague thought, sleepy-headed and unfulfilled. Read the rest of this entry

Bound and Determined

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Persnickety, Tribal, Melancholic
The characters in this story are fictional, as are the portrayals of any people, groups or chiefs.  This is only a parody and no offense is intended or should be taken.  

The elders sat around the fire, each of them squirming uncomfortably.  The Chief had served dinner to the council earlier; it consisted mainly of meat and a starchy root sauce.  It was winter and there weren’t a lot of plants around for them to eat; no fruits or berries for fiber.  While it did smell wonderful (hence the large turnout for tonight’s meeting) it did tend to leave a fellow a little… bound up so to speak. Read the rest of this entry

Eyeball Soup Anyone?

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Doll, stars, blind

Carmine was casing the house he planned to hit next.  It might sound cliché but it was necessary if you intended to do a job and get away clean.  So far everything he had seen pointed to an incredibly easy robbery.  The woman who lived here (alone no less) was blind.  Cut the phone lines and it couldn’t get any easier than this.  She would have no way to call for help.  This was going to be obnoxiously easy and if there’s anything Carmine liked, it was a smooth job.  He had done his homework.   Read the rest of this entry