What prompts me to write this is that I am sitting on a piece of shit--actually, a few pieces of shit. No, not literal shit--well, sort of literal--I mean stories I am trying to write. The biggest piece of shit I'm sitting on I started in 2014. I was going through a very difficult time … Continue reading When to save it, when to kill it?
Tag: creative writing
Heaven’s just a bus ride away.
A story. Fiction. Yeah, fiction. I With steady hands, Greta gripped her lunch tray, and through the crowds of jerkoff jocks and bimbo clones, pimply nerds and green-haired freaks, she marched to her empty table in the cafeteria. They were no more to her than noise. She laid down the tray and took a pad … Continue reading Heaven’s just a bus ride away.
Odds and ends of the current life of a lazy mofo
I was sneaking around a moving neighbor's basement and made a poor attempt at a liminal space photo. This is me: it was early May, seventy degrees out, and I was wearing a winter scarf running down the sidewalk eating a slice of pizza while chasing a stray cat. I spent April cycling through the … Continue reading Odds and ends of the current life of a lazy mofo
A Cut and Color.
A story.. “Put it on,” she said, with one wave of her cigarette. I obediently put it on. The necklace had an oval turquoise stone set into a silver fleur-de-lis. She was taking a deep drag as I did so. She exhaled. “Yes, that looks very nice with your new hair.” I remember the first … Continue reading A Cut and Color.
Histrionics (writing prompt.)
You call me a bitch, Say I'm hysterical, Look like a witch, Being heretical. Stomp like a child, Screech, make no sense. Look at that girl--pretty, mild-- I'm wrapped too tight, way too tense. But I think it's pretty ironic, You're flailing your arms, Shrieking I'M histrionic. I discovered this prompt on the blog The … Continue reading Histrionics (writing prompt.)
Escape to the Food Court: May I Please Go to the Bathroom Now? Part 3
(Hiding inside a rack full of men's coats, I, the administrative assistant of a highly prestigious department store, had just witnessed my boss stuff cash from a register down her shirt.) I remained inside the men’s coat rack until I saw my boss go back up the escalator. Why, what a fiend! She just walked away … Continue reading Escape to the Food Court: May I Please Go to the Bathroom Now? Part 3
Contact occurred unexpectedly. I had been heading for the originally mapped coordinates. My target was a young man named Jamie Vu. I planned to land shortly after midnight during deep delta-wave sleep before it segued into the REM stage, which would provide cover for me should he awaken during the transfer process. “….so I’m sorry, … Continue reading Jamie Vu
Excuse me you got a little something there. #SepSceneWriMo.”
A first chapter of I don't know what written for "September Scene Writing Month." Warning: contains received language. Feedback welcome. Marianne had overslept, but it didn’t really matter. She pulled on her yellow uniform t-shirt and sat down at the wooden desk which doubled as her vanity, decorated only with a small crystal lamp she … Continue reading Excuse me you got a little something there. #SepSceneWriMo.”
To grandmother’s house we go: #SepSceneWriMo
She woke up with sweat trickling down the sides of her face into her ears. A strange night. Bad dreams. It was gross but why worry about it? She changed and went back to bed. It happened again a few nights later. Well, the weather was getting very warm now, and she was still using … Continue reading To grandmother’s house we go: #SepSceneWriMo
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