Pixabay image by Brigitte Werner
“You’ve got to do it. Let me find one for you,” Savannah suggested.
Eve rolled her eyes. “I’ve already interviewed five potential bodyguards. They were all Neanderthals.”
Eve stood, all five feet of her in her billowy blue caftan, and faced her agent. She knew Savannah thought her eccentric; but hell, that’s what authors were supposed to be. Continue reading
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a story about a mermaid and a farmer.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE an essay on a magical moving pen.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a book about a ghost with a moving murmur.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a tale about a wolf and a wren who share a den. Continue reading
Written in response to D.W. Peach’s March Speculative Fiction Prompt
The rain falls so hard the trees appear to be weeping. I stand on the steep sidewalk waiting for the school bus, hair frizzing into tight curls but mouth curled up in a sweet grandmotherly smile.
My grandson turns seven today, and I’m determined to help him celebrate. Continue reading
I know this, even though few believe me.
We live in different time warps. Continue reading
Ginny was worried. Not about just one thing, like the fact that her paycheck would not be enough to pay all the bills this month. She was not worried about just two things, like the rumor that her ex was in town.
No, Ginny was worried about more than a dozen things as she rode the bus from her gray non-descript apartment building in the center of the city toward the more glamorous, clean, shiny suburb 40 minutes away. Continue reading
roughwighting 