Tuesday Scribes – Yeah, ‘Cept

Dialogue for this week’s prompt at Tuesday Scribes.

“Look, it’s easy. You just pucker up and blow. Ta-da!  Bubbles appear.”


“And, if you want you can pop ‘em with your finger, like this see.”

“Umm, yeah ‘cept.”

“‘Cept what, man? It’s fun. Don’tcha wanna play?”

“Yeah ‘cept, I just peed.”

“Here? Aww man really? I guess that can happen. It’s no sweat, brother. Just roll back into the fountain; pretend you fell in. You’ll get all wet and no one will notice you peed.”

“Still share your wand with me? Still let me play?”

“’Course I will.”

The Challenge – Write a Dialogue Only Story

OLWG#65- More of The Micro-Poetry That I Love So Much

Practice makes Perfect

Written for OLWG#65

You never know who your friends are until you need someone to lean on.
If she squinted, just so, she could see the truth, see the gleam in his eye.
My editors suggest killing off underdeveloped characters.

This week’s prompts were:

  1. you never know who your friends are
  2. if she squinted, just so,
  3. the underdeveloped characters



The Magic of Imagination

Written for the August 23rd Flash Fiction Challenge

Waves of assassins, ninjas, and marauders had already been turned away by the intrepid Timmy McNab. Dead and wounded were piled, like cordwood, against the back fence while weapons of all types lay scattered throughout the garden. When the whistle sounded, our hero held up one finger stopping an attacking pirate who waited; cutlass in his left hand, dagger in the right, pistol tucked into the black sash around his waist.

“Sorry, Cap’n,” That’s Mom. I gotta go, dinner time.”

“No fair, Timmy it’s my turn.”  The pirate groused.

“We’ll play again tomorrow, after breakfast. You can go first.”

The prompt and instructions were:

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes magic. It can be a supernatural force, a moment or idea, or use it as a verb. Go where the prompt leads.

Tuesday Scribes – Gone;

A 150-Word Story for this week’s prompt at Tuesday Scribes.

Gone; the brace that she had worn as a child. Gone; the articulated, iron bars, the heavy brown shoe, and the leather straps that she’d kept fixed to her leg for all those years.  Gone; the need for her to endure the cruel barbs and taunts hurled by classmates as she struggled up and down the passageways at school.

Gone also was she. Gone, from the small Midwestern town that had made her tough and had hardened her resolve.

To the casual observer she looked normal now, but there were still tells. There were still things to discern. Things such as the faint ticking of the clockwork, a sound she used to lull herself to sleep at night and the whir of the stretched round leather belts that controlled her thoughts.

She hadn’t been able to travel by plane or visit an inner city high school for a long time.


OLWG#64- Read It Four Times

Playing with punctuation here The title of this piece is a quote from Faulkner giving advice on how to read his mispunctuated manuscript

Written for OLWG#64

We were sitting in the shade of the wide covered porch, not on the swing we weren’t courting or anything we were just friends but we occupied a couple of wooden rockers that my Grandfather had made years ago they were starting to get loose and I’d been thinking about regluing or rescrewing or whatever I had to do to make them last another 50 years

I’d brought out a bottle of cheap tequila with two jelly jar glasses and sat ‘em on a mismatched table between us she picked up the bottle with her right hand and filled one of the glasses about a third of the way up keeping the bottle in her grasp she downed the drink with her left hand before immediately refilling the jelly jar that she had claimed as her own only this time it was filled about halfway she pounded that one down just like she had the first one she poured a third

You might wanna go easy with that, Darlene I said you’ll feel like shit in the morning

Yeah maybe but I’ll feel better tonight she replied and she swallowed the third one down

What’s got you in such a tizzy I reached for the bottle and poured a bit in a jar for myself


OK I said and drank my shot I put the bottle back on the misfit table

You remember a couple of months ago when I went to the river fishing with Larry she held up her empty glass to the porch light and studied it as she reached for the bottle again

No not really I answered her

Well we stayed overnight at the fish camp the story continued now I’m not blaming him or anybody else for that matter it was all consensual and everything

There was a long pause and she poured another tequila I figured I knew what was coming she threw the drink back

Shit Billy she said I’m late I don’t know what I’m gonna do

I reached out and took the bottle from her set it down on the wooden boards beneath my rocker then you really better go easy on that, Darlene

I reached over and took her hand her jar slipped from her grasp and clattered on the deck we sat together that way late into the night

This week’s prompts were:

  1. beat poets
  2. go easy with that, Darlene
  3. in the desert



Once in my Lifetime

Written for the August 16th Flash Fiction Challenge

I was twenty-four the last time it came, that periodic star that causes ships to ground. She was twenty-six. We drove to the desert’s edge and climbed Blue Mesa in the dark; leaving behind the city lights, the traffic sounds, and the strains of club music that floated incessantly through the downtown streets. In the stillness, we spread our blanket and made love waiting for and watching Edmund Halley’s dirty snowball with its retrograde orbit and curved tail. She speculated that lovers had done the same for thousands of years before and will continue to until the comet dies.

The prompt and instructions were:

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a comet. You can consider how it features into a story, influences a character, or creates a mood. Go where the prompt leads.

One of my Haiku at Vita Brevis

Vita Brevis recently hosted a poetry competition. It was a lot of fun, it was very well attended, and there was an abundance of great submissions. I am honoured to have been selected as the winner.

Brian Geiger, the founder and Editor has published my submission on his online magazine. You can read it here.

Thanks to Vita Brevis and to everyone who stopped by to read and comment on all the entries. Every submission there was deserving of the win. I feel extremely lucky today and plan on buying a Lottery ticket.


Tuesday Scribes – Three Days of Nothing But Fun and Music

A Six Sentence Story for this week’s prompt at Tuesday Scribes.

Danni went to Woodstock.
“Far out, man,” she said aloud to herself when she spotted the crowds milling in the mud below.
Telling her to stay away from the brown acid was like dangling a carrot.
You might as well have said, “do not press ‘this’ button” when you sit said button down in front of her.
Three days later, she remembered nothing except the clock.
She would always have the clock.


OLWG#63- One Pill Makes You Larger…

Written for OLWG#63

Alice slowly made her way between the barrows at the Farmer’s Market. She had time to kill. She enjoyed handling the produce, smelling the flowers, and planning her meals for the next few days. She had picked up and was fondling a large, ripe, red tomato when she became aware of a ruckus behind her. She turned and saw a short overweight white rabbit. He was kickin’ up a fuss and wearing a waistcoat as he peered at a large pocket watch through half-moon spectacles. He was also a little bit obese.

“Oh my,” he muttered, “I’ll be late yet again.” He was quickly coming up through the crowd; weaving, bobbing and pushing to get through.

Alice recognized him right away, of course, it had been his hole that she had fallen through all those years ago. She reached out and put her hands on his shoulders, slowing down his forward momentum.

“Rabbit? Is that you?” she asks him. “You’re always in a hurry, always on the run. It’s market day. You shouldn’t have anywhere urgent that you must be today?

“Why, yes! I do,” he replies, “I have a date, you see. Wait! Is that you Mary Ann? Goodness girl, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you. Where on earth have you been?” He looked at his watch again, “Oh my, I’m so late! Mary Ann, could I prevail upon you to run home and fetch my fan and white gloves?”

“I’d be happy to do that for you, Rabbit, but look at your watch first.”

“What?” he asked, “I am looking at my watch. I’m late! I’m terribly late!”

Alice gently reached out and turned the watch right side up for him.

“Look again, Rabbit. You’re not late, you’re early.”

The short, obese rabbit looked down at the timepiece he held in his paw and blinked. He pushed his specs up on his nose, he pulled them back down. He looked through the lenses. He looked over the lenses and then he blinked a few more times.

“Early?” he questioned, “I’m early? Goodness me, this has never happened! Whatever shall I do?

“I know. I’ll stop for tea. Mary Ann, would you like to join me for tea?”

“I’d love to, Rabbit. It’s been years since I’ve gotten really, really small, and I quite fancy the idea of having another go. Lead on, sir.”

The two friends linked arms and one hopped, the other skipped out of the market and down a tiny side street; in search of the white rabbit’s favourite tea shop.

“You are looking lovely, Mary Ann.”

“Why thank you, Rabbit, but I’m not Mary Ann. My name’s Alice.”

“What? Really? Can that be right?”

“Oh, your waistcoat is becoming a bit tattered, sir. I’ve been away for an awfully long time, maybe longer than I had realized. Perhaps I can mend it for you later… “

They turned right at the end of the lane.

This week’s prompts were:

  1. you’re early
  2. always on the run
  3. the way you sleep



The Lewis and Rebman Expedition

Written for the August 9th Flash Fiction Challenge

Lewis increased his pace to catch up and have a word with Rebman, “I expect our way will be blocked when we round the next bend. Have you seen them?”

“Seen whom?” Rebman asked. He glanced about, now noticing flashes of bright crimson and deep indigo between the dense trees. He asked, “Who are they?”

“The locals here are autochthonous,” Lewis advised. “The claim to be descended from Lellages, the purported elder son of Belabub. Who, in turn, was a Philistine god. The Hebrews called him Beelzebub, the Christians, called him Satan.”


“I believe so, Rebman. I believe so.”

The prompt and instructions were:

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes  an act of “peering from the woods.” Go where the prompt leads.

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