Tag: short story
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November 07, 2009 06:51 PM EST --
I am the quintessential misplaced zygote, never having a people, never having a home, never having dirt that's mine. Living and dying in exile. In that, no people are my people and all people are my people. . . .
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November 07, 2009 07:00 PM EST --
Pastor Jones, in the middle of his sermon, jumps prostrate to the floor, slamming his forehead onto the carpet: "Oh, Lord! I am nothing before you!"
Deacon John follows, his forehead whacking the floor: . . .
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November 07, 2009 06:34 PM EST --
When I was a kid, I attributed unrealistic feelings and awareness to inanimate objects. Maybe that's why witchcraft in its core appealed to me so much over the years. Sometimes I still get the . . .
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November 07, 2009 08:37 PM EST --
Flesh of an apple
A drop of red; stains earth; proves gravity;
grows up as a sprawled tree; bears alluring,
glistening fruits I have brought for you at this
sickbed. . . .
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October 31, 2009 11:48 AM EDT --
They say the fabric stretches thin one night a year and think it’s those in graves that rise to haunt with curious rage. But I wait here, imagined fear on brightly painted page. I look . . .
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November 12, 2006 12:45 AM EST --
The high pitched breath of chimes tinkled, the porch swing creaked, and the lone hummingbird hovered about the ancient feeder.
Her sun weathered, wizened face graced a white, flowing gown that . . .
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November 05, 2009 12:39 AM EST --
My Granddad was a lad when soldiers fought in Africa. Then friends dropped, caught in trenches; he got gassed. The English streets popped afterwards to shrapnel’s burning swell, and then… . . .
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October 23, 2009 01:45 PM EDT --
"I'm lyin here on the floor where you left me. I think I took too much. I'm crying here, what have you done? I thought it would be fun." -- Pink
See . . .
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November 05, 2009 08:13 PM EST --
With shaking hands, Rodney loaded the bullet in the chamber. He scuffed his boots on the dusty road, and spat on the ground. His head rose slowly, he grimaced as his rival finished loading his own . . .
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March 05, 2007 06:09 PM EST --
This short short story is based on the poem, "Billy Talbot", by Ed Nudelman.
Plato chases the ground hog under the deck, shoves his snout in against the edging and claws at . . .
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August 12, 2007 11:30 AM EDT --
To those of you who have already voted for my story, thank you so much! I really appreciate the vote - and the feedback I've received also.
If you haven't yet voted for it, please, . . .
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June 09, 2008 08:59 PM EDT --
This week's prompt is the photo of the old shoe stuck in the mud and we are to tell the shoe's story from the shoe's perspective.
My partner and I lived happily . . .
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April 21, 2009 01:42 AM EDT --
Her morning voice was like the whispers heard on a summer’s night, clear as rinsed crystal. Champagne bubbled to the rim of her laughter and honey dripped its scent from the waking hive. Her . . .
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September 21, 2009 08:03 PM EDT --
I'm jumping up and down in excitement again (though my son says what's the point if I don't get paid)! I've got another short story published on NightsandWeekends.com . In fact, if you go to their front . . .
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March 11, 2007 09:42 AM EDT --
This is a rewrite of a hastely written story I published a few weeks ago based on Ed Nudelman's poem, "Billy Talbot".
Plato chases the ground hog under the deck, shoves his . . .
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July 02, 2007 10:24 AM EDT --
So... this morning, I saw one of Ernie's excellent articles about writing markets and I decided to get brave and enter one of my short stories. If you would consider being so kind as to drop by and . . .
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October 11, 2007 02:23 PM EDT --
Certainly it was him, the man that I came to talk to. His posture was almost dignified despite his shabby tee-shirt and grubby jeans. His sandy blond hair was long and unkempt yet his face was surprisingly . . .
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March 28, 2008 11:10 AM EDT --
Wriggling my toes, I watched the sand trickle out like those in an hourglass. The goosebumps on my arms stood like mountain peaks as I dug my feet deeper back into the fading warmth . . .
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June 30, 2008 10:11 AM EDT --
The nights are so long and lonely in this old house, especially when the wind howls eerily, the . . .
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July 17, 2008 08:48 PM EDT --
When she was alive, she had always stayed away from these places-- these dive bars filled with drunken men, dirty jokes and raucous laughter.
She had kept to her circle, the one in which people drank . . .
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