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We’ve seen you coming for a long time now. We cast the calling spell. We been waiting for you.” said Florie.
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I had a notion why the deer didn’t eat his flower salad.
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No one needed or really wanted to ask about the classroom gore of the morning, letting go and moving on were what teachers had been trained to do.
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You have to stay here. We can’t let you leave the bar, you might tell someone of our predicament.
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God, if you say one more weird thing about something, I’m gonna “thoat punch” you.
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Writing a novel is the culmination of what I’ve been preaching most of my whole life.
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Suzanne giggled and stomped her feet at the secret she held, the power.
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Think of a children’s story you know…” ps..my secretary is responsible for any and all mistakes. :)
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Idle Hands
“Keep your hands busy and the hours will pass like minutes,” she said while she pulled the needle up through the fabric. “Don’t let your mind dwell on the world around you. Focus inside yourself. Focus on that which you create. The blanket with the yarn, the dress with the fabric, the stories with the… Read more
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Spiders, Flies, and Coffee
“Spiders, Flies, and Coffee” a Quirky Flash Fiction Piece by Devonne Brown Published in Chewers and Masticadores, April 29, 2025 Read more
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Well, you never asked…
Your eyes filled with tears-Why didn’t you let me help?Well, you never asked.Can I come as well?I’m bouncing from foot to foot.Well, you never asked.Why don’t you join meSwinging arms, walking, skipping?Well, you never asked. Well, you never asked….is a statement about you or me. I could make it all about me, or all about… Read more
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Longing: 2 Haiku
Longing: 1 HaikuClosing my eyes andWanting what hasn’t been gainedSmiling wistfullyLonging: 2 HaikuSpending time aloneI rub my hand o’r my heartA weight in my chest Read more
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Thank you, Mr. Sullivan
I suppose the Appalachian tradition of giving kids weird names, Stanley Hugo, Ervin Otto, or even Oral Homer was part and parcel of growing up in the isolation of the hollers. I was the last of the kids to get a holler name before we moved out to the suburbs, I suppose.My brother got stuck… Read more
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Report Card
My son is judging me. If he were to give me a report card it would be how long do I stay awake when I come home from school, how much time do I spend writing, how often and well do I cook for him, how clean do I keep my room, how clean do… Read more
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We’ve seen you coming for a long time now. We cast the calling spell. We been waiting for you.” said Florie.
-
I had a notion why the deer didn’t eat his flower salad.
-
No one needed or really wanted to ask about the classroom gore of the morning, letting go and moving on were what teachers had been trained to do.
-
You have to stay here. We can’t let you leave the bar, you might tell someone of our predicament.
-
God, if you say one more weird thing about something, I’m gonna “thoat punch” you.
-
Writing a novel is the culmination of what I’ve been preaching most of my whole life.
-
Suzanne giggled and stomped her feet at the secret she held, the power.
-
Think of a children’s story you know…” ps..my secretary is responsible for any and all mistakes. :)
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Patience of the trees
I grew up on a dirt road with quiet skies and darkened rooms where there was one light in the center of the room and two table lamps, a luxury beside a rocking chair and one end of the couch for reading. The kitchens had a dim bulb in the middle as did the bedrooms.…
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Message
I’ve been to two funerals this week. Two uncles, one from my dad, one from my mom. Dad’s brother had a military funeral, Mom’s brother had a Masonic funeral. The military funeral had a twenty-one gun salute at the end of it. The Masons chanted and made hand signals. Both were dignified and sent the…
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A path through the woods
There were hundreds of acres to explore and I suppose we stepped through all of them. We walked through the woods for miles, following each other. The path was the one we created, or sometimes the deer or both. They are creatures of habits, the same as we. We had no place in mind to…
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First Memories
I have two distinct memories before I could walk. The first one was being held in my uncle’s arms and reaching for my mother. I loved my uncle Paul as much as any six or seven month old can love another human being who’s around all the time. But I remember throwing my body towards…
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Winter is…is not
Cold…killing cold.

