Category Archives: Fiction

Train Time

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Back and forth the car swayed, and the couple in the sleeper argued on.

Ann said, “Amtrak never gets anyplace on time.”

“For the fourth time, I’m sorry,” said Karl.

“Sorry!” Ann’s voice rose. “We’re in the middle of Nebraska, and the wedding starts in an hour. This is the worst gift you could have given me.” Karl didn’t answer, and Ann didn’t stop. “You’re so cheap!”

“What do you mean, cheap?” he protested. “This cost us twice as much as plane tickets.”

“And it’s taking four days instead of four hours! What a waste of money.” Ann pounded on the window.… Read the rest

Trifecta

Posted on by March 27, 2012

Twice a week these days, I go through Kübler-Ross’s five stages, and it’s all because of Trifecta. I sit beside the computer like a junkie waiting for the new prompt on Monday and Friday, and denial hits as soon as I read it. I can’t write that. What do they even want?

Anger quickly follows. What the hell do they want? How am I supposed to finish this? There isn’t enough time. Why do I have so few words? Why this three obsession?

Then I start bargaining. OK, if I push all my other stuff back a day or two, that will clear Monday and Tuesday for drafts.… Read the rest

Wizard’s dilemma

Posted on by February 25, 2020

 

Over at this week’s Trifextra writing challenge, we are to complete in our own 33 words (the second part of the story below for me) the story the editors have begun with their 33 words (the first part of the story below for me)

 

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“There’s nothing cute about it,” he said. The register of his voice indicated decision more so than discussion.

She disagreed heartily and privately, staring past his head and out the window behind him.

She exclaimed,  “They’re tiny! The child wouldn’t come without her familiar; the cat wouldn’t leave its kits; and I had only the demon box to hold them.”… Read the rest

True Vision

Posted on by February 25, 2020

“Why don’t you hunt?” asked Johnna.

“I See too well,” her father Aif answered. Between them, they held a wide, heavy board so two men could bang nails in from the roof. They were putting up a wall constructed of a series of such boards, each nearly as long and wide as the tree from which it was hewn, smoothed by machine, and chosen for this project with great care. Building an Auric hut was hard work.

“But I’ve seen hunting parties,” Johnna protested.

“Brace that!” said her father. Johnna squared her weight and the hammers commenced above. This addition to her father’s hut was going to be larger than the original building.… Read the rest

Fat Man In The Bathtub

Posted on by February 25, 2020

James tried to sing part of “Dixie Chicken”, but he was too drunk to carry the tune, and in any case, the tidbit that slurred out of his mouth came from “Fat Man In the Bathtub”. Sherry slapped him. “You call this good clean fun?” she demanded as he reeled away from the blow. “You can barely stand up.”

James remembered another line and sang, “Juanita, my sweet torpedo…”

“Torpedo?” Sherry’s voice rose an octave. “Torpedo?” She collared James and forced him to sit down. “It’s chiquita” she hissed.

On James’ other side, a man said, “No, he’s right.… Read the rest

Lost

Posted on by November 17, 2019

You already akimbo, legs apart and arms askew, and I naked before the sun’s wide open eye. How hungry seems the sky, and empty, inviting me to embrace the deep earth with you .

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After a day of spiders Thursday, including a quarter sized one in the house, prevented me from finishing my weekly Trifecta entry for the first time since I started participating in the challenge, I was really bummed. So. I’m making sure to get this Trifextra entry done in spite of the moaning over homework from a school absence (kid, you miss three days, you got work to catch up) going on in the kitchen and the clinging preschooler who wants for playing with in the office.  … Read the rest

Loma’ai

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Sade shifted on her rug and ruffled her shoulder feathers. “Pass me that bowl,” she instructed, her blind eyes focused somewhere over Johnna’s shoulder.

“Which?” Johnna asked. There were three bowls in front of her.

Her grandmother said, “The one you were thinking of.”

“Oh.” Johnna picked up the right hand bowl and passed it across the low fire.

The old woman nodded and turned it over in her hands, tapping her fingers rapidly around the rim. “This is a good one,” Sade said. “Now tell it to me.”

“Excuse me?” Now, Johnna shifted. But where her grandmother had changed positions to get more comfortable, Johnna moved because there wasn’t any comfortable to be had in this hut.… Read the rest

Nestlings

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Susannah’s fingers sought purchase in the cliff face.

Chris asked, “Are the eggs safe?”

Trying not to disturb the silence, she nodded. Then, squinting into the grotto, Susannah gasped. “Oh look! They’re hatching!”

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This is my submission for this weekend’s Trifextra prompt, which asks us to submit a 33 word story with a justifiable exclamation point.

… Read the rest

Trust issues

Posted on by February 25, 2020

“Consider the avocado. Its disproportionate half-moon shell is even shaped like an ovary. The creamy flesh shelters a single seed. This is the very definition of ‘fruit’.”

Obdurate and nine, he replies, “Get off your high horse, Mom. Fruit is sweet.”

Mom protests, “Not all fruit. Not tomatoes…”

“Tomatoes aren’t fruit.”

“Yes they … look, we’ll Google it together.”

He says, “I don’t want to Google it.”

“Look at this page,” she says. “It explains vegetables can be fruits, but fruits can’t be vegetables.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Just eat your lunch, Jeremy.”

“I don’t like avocados.”

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I don’t think that this Mom is going to get her son to have faith that avocados are tasty.… Read the rest

Ella’s Gun: Fiction

Posted on by February 25, 2020

In the first rehearsal with the real gun, Ella screamed and raced over to make sure Aaron Meddins, who played the Gestapo Kriminal Assistent, hadn’t really been hit. It didn’t matter that she fired blanks.

But she had to control that fear, because Demons at the Door’s success hinged on creating Sister Edmund as a plausibly faith conflicted nun. She disarmed Daniel and his pregnant wife Freda when they first begged for shelter, but at the climax herself shot the Nazi who stumbled onto the convent’s hidden Jews.

“I’m fine,” Aaron said, then offered, “I’ll wink when you cross left.… Read the rest