Tag: short-story
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Paris
Betty dreaded opening the package the mailman was about to deliver. She knew what it was when she watched him come up the street. She should just refuse to accept it, turn around and send it back right then. Return to sender. That would be the smart thing to do.…
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Ginger Tom
Geraldine didn’t appreciate that stray yellow cat that dropped her kitten at the front door. There it was though, eyes open, wobbly legged, barely weaned, and yellow as its mama. She thought of just sweeping it off the porch like trash. What else could it eat besides milk? Shit. She’d…
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Rum Punch
I didn’t need to drink, didn’t want to end up a human popsicle on the interstate somewhere between here and home.
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January 6
In a flash of inspiration, Cynthia decided to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany. She’d had a vision of the three wise men giving their gifts to the Christ child and decided it would be fun to have a small Christmas today. She was sure to get an eye roll…
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Ceraunophilia (n) loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful
“The lightning webbed and arced across the black sky. Thunder of a thousand sonic booms shook the whole house. It did it again and again and again. “I got it on my camera, look. It’s phenomenal. I bet it goes viral. “What do you think?” asked Sadie. “Look, here it…
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Mommy’s Angel
I begged for a guitar for Christmas. I got down on my knees in supplication to Mom one Saturday morn when the snow was knee deep outside, I remember. That’s all she heard that year. I did every chore she gave me with glee, on the outside at least, three…
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Gilly and the Peashooters
“Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27
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Trick or Treat Ghost
“Stop, I lost my shoe,” Bonnie said. She was crying. It was pitch dark and we were in the middle of a flower bed in somebody’s front yard. There were four of us. Bonnie was the tiniest five year old I knew. She looked about three and was just as…
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Velvet Heart
Janet stood in front of the mirror and admired herself. The twenty-pound weight loss looked good in the deep red velvet dress she wore. It hugged her waist, plunged at the neck, and flounced from a complete circle to the floor. It was the dress of her dreams, and she…
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Remembering Elouise on Her Birthday
Elouise, tall and elegant, shrank to five foot nothing by the time she died at seventy-seven. Her youngest daughter, Dagmar, stayed all night with her the day before she died and dreamed of Grandma, Elouise’s mom, that night. She called me that morning to tell me all about it. “I…
Devonne Brown 