athesaurus.com

…breathe deeply and often…

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  • Dirty Snow

    “Mom, where are the boots you got me for Christmas?” asked Charlie. He tore the living room upside down looking for them. Couch cushions went flying, followed by blankets, and newspapers, he made an unholy mess.  “Stop it! Stop throwing stuff around and straighten this room up right now,” Alice was livid. “You know better… Read more

  • Sewing Lesson

    Santa brought me a baby doll for Christmas one year that had white curly hair like an old lady. She had a rubber head and blue eyes that would open and close when she sat up and lay down. Her arms and legs were rubber too, attached to a stuffed body. She was about half… Read more

  • Snow Wonderland

    Hazel stepped out on the stoop and stepped right back in the house. Her eyes were huge. “Is this what I think it is?” she screamed. It was still dark outside, but the white of seven inches of snow lay bright and unmistakable over everything outside. She could hear the snowflakes pile higher and deeper,… Read more

  • 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

  • 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

  • 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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  • Thunder

    Lightning and silver rain fell down.

  • Who are you?

    I have I try to figure out who’s reading. I like to imagine my sister reading an essay I wrote about her.

  • Beach Combers

    Captain’s Log: Stardate, A Day at the Beach Long Ago

  • Restrictive Rant

    Those horns just sprouted because of you.

  • After the rain

    A whistle blew, splash! Chaos.