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The house went dead quiet and the den lights went out. The whirr of the refrigerator stopped. Norris knew something was wrong, same as I did. He asked for cream before the fridge got warm, he understood. I gave him treats instead. Usually these things flickered and came back on within seconds, then everything blinked,
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“One of the best parts of the concert is when the orchestra tunes up their instruments,” said Silas. “It hides the frenzy backstage, but hints at it when the squawks and squeaks get flung from the pit to the back of the house.” “The more frenetic the tune up, the bigger the tribute the director,”
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Stella felt like she walked to the door of an open plane. She was terrified of heights, two miles was a long way to fall. Her walk was short today, less than fifty feet, and she didn’t have to take it, not really. Maybe she wouldn’t. She could turn around. Her friends that surrounded her
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Mark Twain’s “War Prayer”. It’s not for everyone. It’s not sweet nor is it funny. Lots of folks don’t even like it. “Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth into battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace
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Mom lost her mind and married Roebuck. None of the kids could stand him, but she was entitled to her midlife crisis, same as anyone else. Since his house burned down on their first date, something about gunpowder gun cleaning equipment and an explosion, such a catastrophe, that they moved to Texas soon after they
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I left the windows on the car open when it got hot in the summer. Mom and Dad always did, so I figured I better too. The car was so hot a dog would have died if I’d have left it in there, a kid would have too, open windows or not. Our parents left
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If you’re doing your best writing, you’re always on the cusp of embarrassing yourself.” –Arthur Miller I’ve been tasked to write my Author’s Mission Statement. It’s in the brainstorming and drafting stages at this point. I’ve stolen phrases from other writers I know. I’ve stuck fancy words in it and wrangled them around to make
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It must be the year thirty-eight, thirty-nine, or it could be forty of my teaching career.. I felt good when I walked onto campus this year until I found out my friend, the head cook, wouldn’t, couldn’t be back to work. She has terminal cancer. She seemed fine at the pool this summer. She did
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The pile of vinyl records dropped one Frank Sinatra album onto the turntable. He crooned about Strangers in the Night, and I smiled in my sleep. The needle skipped and Snoopy and the Red Barron were fighting it out in the sky. The needle jumped to Bolero, it pranced around in my head, and a
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Purple stuff
Since I started teaching I’ve undergone many changes. I still have a real honest to God chalk board in my classroom instead of the standard white board these days. The way I copy papers has changed significantly over the years. I started with the purple stuff. I would get so frustrated trying to type tests Read more
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Junebug’s Dinner
“I feel like my head’s in a jar underwater,” said Junebug to no one at all as she burnt the last of the fried chicken. She couldn’t fry chicken any better than she could make biscuits. Her gravy and mashed potatoes were to die for though. The whole stick of butter and heavy cream she Read more
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Haiku in Winter
The whittling down of a grandiloquent tale to seventeen syllables. Getting the juice from it to its purist form wrings the neck of a piece of writing so tight that all that’s left is the essence of its meaning, a haiku. Five seven five. The dear sweet poems of eternity. Pictures in pure form Whittled Read more
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The Fishing Village
Image generated with AI. I’ve never been to a fishing village in Scotland. I don’t care about cities and tourism. The small town misty cold draws me. I want to walk out on a rocky shore to hear the waves crash and redden my cheeks with cold as long as I can stand the grey Read more
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Story Published!
Thank you, Nolcha Fox and Chewers and Masticadores! Beatrice Entombed Millard watched the undertakers close the drawer that held Beatrice’s casket, and waited until everyone left the cemetery. A dusty brown cloud followed a parade of black limousines crawling their way up the side of a mountain to the main road. The last thing he Read more
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Predictable Rant
It’s time to get more aggressive about the life that I want. I’ve already decided what life I don’t want. I decided years ago that I wanted out of teaching. Retirement is within my reach. I called the retirement board and found that I was eligible for retirement six years ago, but it was financially Read more
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The house went dead quiet and the den lights went out. The whirr of the refrigerator stopped. Norris knew something was wrong, same as I did. He asked for cream before the fridge got warm, he understood. I gave him treats instead. Usually these things flickered and came back on within seconds, then everything blinked,
-
“One of the best parts of the concert is when the orchestra tunes up their instruments,” said Silas. “It hides the frenzy backstage, but hints at it when the squawks and squeaks get flung from the pit to the back of the house.” “The more frenetic the tune up, the bigger the tribute the director,”
-
Stella felt like she walked to the door of an open plane. She was terrified of heights, two miles was a long way to fall. Her walk was short today, less than fifty feet, and she didn’t have to take it, not really. Maybe she wouldn’t. She could turn around. Her friends that surrounded her
-
Mark Twain’s “War Prayer”. It’s not for everyone. It’s not sweet nor is it funny. Lots of folks don’t even like it. “Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth into battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace
-
Mom lost her mind and married Roebuck. None of the kids could stand him, but she was entitled to her midlife crisis, same as anyone else. Since his house burned down on their first date, something about gunpowder gun cleaning equipment and an explosion, such a catastrophe, that they moved to Texas soon after they
-
I left the windows on the car open when it got hot in the summer. Mom and Dad always did, so I figured I better too. The car was so hot a dog would have died if I’d have left it in there, a kid would have too, open windows or not. Our parents left
-
If you’re doing your best writing, you’re always on the cusp of embarrassing yourself.” –Arthur Miller I’ve been tasked to write my Author’s Mission Statement. It’s in the brainstorming and drafting stages at this point. I’ve stolen phrases from other writers I know. I’ve stuck fancy words in it and wrangled them around to make
-
It must be the year thirty-eight, thirty-nine, or it could be forty of my teaching career.. I felt good when I walked onto campus this year until I found out my friend, the head cook, wouldn’t, couldn’t be back to work. She has terminal cancer. She seemed fine at the pool this summer. She did
-
The pile of vinyl records dropped one Frank Sinatra album onto the turntable. He crooned about Strangers in the Night, and I smiled in my sleep. The needle skipped and Snoopy and the Red Barron were fighting it out in the sky. The needle jumped to Bolero, it pranced around in my head, and a
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Peace Escaped
Peace escaped. Bound to sadness and pain. Even the doves that brought peace and tranquility had given up hope and moved on. There were other souls to save, and time was of essence. There was only so much with which a human could cope, a wreath of laurel leaves and branches, another burden to bear…
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My Commandments
My personal commandments are not religious, but they have a spiritual ring to them, I suppose. They are today’s commandments. I may change my mind somewhere down the road. I know they would have been different before I had children. The crone is evolving, 5. Be creative. Make life interesting. 6. Smile more.…
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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…
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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
Devonne Brown 