I normally would not tell anyone this story, but you, you I trust with my deepest darkest secrets, so I can finally tell the truth about what I ordered. That’s not even the part that’s embarrassing, at least, not the most embarrassing. Continue reading
I scrutinized the man under veiled eyes. My long dark eyelashes were one of my vanities, and in times like these they came in useful. (The Exit Door)
Since when did I follow a complete stranger ( I wondered – what’s an incomplete stranger?) out of a social setting where I knew at least half the participants, toward a “wonderful café” he suggested?
“George,” the blue-jeaned “complete” stranger said as if reading my mind. And no, I don’t do this often.” Continue reading
Once again, I wonder why I’m here, where the exit door is, and how quickly I can excuse myself. I know that Karen means well, but Karen is not the good friend she thinks she is. If she really knew me – Mandy Shepherd, the introvert – really cared about me, she’d keep me away from this kind of “meetngreet” fiasco. Continue reading
Many of you have encouraged me to put together some of my personal flash stories (some of them posted here in Roughwighting) into a book of short (short) stories. Continue reading
A milkshake is plopped down in front of me just as I decide to skedaddle. How can I possibly enjoy this guilty pleasure when my boss, the head of the English Department, the man I’ve crushed on for ten years, is sitting at the diner counter like a solitary cowboy with his gun (well in this case his silver pen) cocked and ready for battle? (click here to see Part I, Diner Dilemma) Continue reading