Category: Fiction
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He knew, without looking, when the moon appeared. Full, half, waning, gibbous … their names mattered little. Even when they could not see Luna, he knew. Tonight wasn’t for guessing, for her surface glowed orange and red. A blue moon, too, second of the season, second of a kind. Like him. He smiled. A mouth…
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Working out how I want the magic in a book I’ve been plotting for 10 years to work. Shut up and write the book already. I know, I know. I’m working on it. Bones I started digging at nine something, call it 9:30. Enough time for the sun to go down, traffic to thin out,…
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unfinished He first did it he was in Kindergarten. It was a clear, sunny autumn day. A little girl, Lori, had pushed him out of his swing, taken it for herself. He looked at her and her bouncy brown pigtails and said, “Fall.” And she did. Landed right on her face like … a five-year-old. He…
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The bead of sweat trailed down his forehead, but he could not wipe it away. The sensation reminded him of when he was little and his older sister would sit on his chest, knees pinning down his arms, and drag a feather across his face. He’d never really forgiven her for that. “You got it?”…
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From the journal night before last. I called it, “A Father’s Lament” It’s fictionish. Brain skipping like an album at the end of the groove. Blood thumping in my ears. Stomach is uneasy. But the water, cold and clear, tastes sweet. He wonders if it will taste the same when there’s no treatment. When you…
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Last week, I published a short story on Amazon. It’s called “The Ticket,” and it’s a end-of-the-world-what-would-you-do-if kind of story. I’ve had it bouncing around in my head for years, though I initially envisioned it as a screenplay. The opening scene was a bunch of military guys busting into a base and attempting to steal…
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I know I have some work yet to do on it before I’ll call it “finished,” but here’s a tease anyway. THE TICKET Burns Flat, Oklahoma July 2, 2116, 7:45pm, CST – 43hrs, 51 mins until Chance Departure He didn’t want to die. That’s what he thought as he sat on his bike, fingers hooked…
skepticlysm 