Earth, Wind, and Stars

And when that bright wind blows, will it call for me?

Or will I instead remain solid, true?

Do the stars truly flicker in their black firmament?

The core is in the asking.

 

 

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Trifextra is all about layers this week. Come play and expose your own core.

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Satan in the Basement

“He was standing right there.” The little boy stayed on the stairs and refused to step into the basement proper.

“Where I am now?” His father pointed down.

“Yes.”

“What did he look like, Dennis?” John Trinkle followed his son’s quick feet back up to the kitchen.

Dennis sat in front of his cereal and tucked his knees under his chin. He wrapped his arms around his legs. “He was made out of fire, with a face like a bull. He had horns.” The father poured himself a mug of coffee and sat beside his son, rather than across from the child where his plate of toast lay untouched.… Read the rest

The five-ninety nine-twenty five rule

 

 

 

If everyone is driving five miles per hour above the speed limit, there is a 99% chance that upon seeing a cop, they’ll all drop to twenty miles under without giving adequate warning.

In the spirit of Andy Rooney’s 50-50-90 rule, Trifecta has asked us to come up with our own probability equations.

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Fiction: finally left

It was because we had the fall open for the first time since we were five years old. Think about it. Fall was school. And when we could have stopped, we didn’t, and we didn’t again, and twenty five years is a long time between free Septembers.

We went down to the beach, and everybody else had gone home, so it was just her and me. And we’d known each other our whole lives. We’d been a couple since high school. But that vacation after your Mom finished her doctorate was the first time we’d travelled alone together.

It wasn’t the same as going in a group, like we used to do over spring break.… Read the rest

On my Honor

The telephone rang. Four jangles, then it stopped. For a minute, the room was quiet, then the phone buzzed again. Lucia heard it plainly. But she did not disturb her black shirt or lift her black jeans from the seat. Black, she sat still.  When the machine again went silent, another caller kicked to voicemail, Lucia turned her head to watch the front door.

She held her sisters in her hands, Jeanine in the left, Tina in the right.

Jeanine, nine, saluted. Above her green Girl Scout uniform, her arm lay bare in the glare of too bright sun. Tina wore a bikini and held a beer.… Read the rest

Count of Three

On the count of three go vote for Lance Burson and Cameron Garriepy in the America’s Next Author Contest. They are two spectacular writers coming into their true careers, and their stories will amaze you. One… Two… Three…

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This week, Trifecta wants us to add 33 words to “on the count of three”. I want you to follow those links above and vote for two of the most amazing authors I know. I may throw my hand into this contest (I’m feeling intimidated and like I don’t have anything, and I hate competing, so I may let the anxiety win this round, we’ll see) but these two already have, and they so ROCK.… Read the rest

Death at the Cosplay Ball

If you’re planning to watch Sam tonight, the ballet starts at 7PM central over at  http://www.frazerumc.org/media/live/

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Death stalked the convention, scythe at its side. There were other grim reapers, but they were laughing men and women who roamed among the other costumed characters posing for pictures and drinking at the bar. Death didn’t pose, didn’t laugh.  It walked in a straight line from the glassed in foyer to the auditorium.

Everyplace Death passed, people shrank away. Though none of them saw it, they all felt the cold pall that settled in its wake. In the auditorium, it strode down the center aisle, leaving waves of nausea.… Read the rest

Human Anatomy

Ellie hunched over her closed anatomy textbook. She recited the six essential digestive processes. Her roommate, Darla returned from the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe.  “Why are you working in the dark?”

Ellie looked at the ceiling. “Light’s on,” she said. “Ingestion, Propulsion, Secretion.”

“Your lamp’s off.” Darla pointed to the darkened shade above a hollow ceramic base.

“Yeah. It’s my grandfather’s birthday. Mechanical and chemical digestion.” Ellie drummed her fingers.

“I thought your grandfather was dead.” Darla fished in her own desk and produced a text identical to the one Ellie was studying. “Here’s to a new way of life.”… Read the rest

On the cutting room floor

Kallum breezed into the kitchen and grabbed an apple. “Hey, babe.” He kissed the top of his wife’s head. She had on her bathrobe, and a folded towel sat beside her coffee. “Newspaper attack you on the way to the tub?”

“Hey.” Jeanette looked up from her crossword puzzle and pushed her reading glasses up her nose. She didn’t answer the question.

“You look distracted.”

“I need a seven letter word that means samurai suicide. I’m trying to fit harakiri, but it’s too long and doesn’t start with ‘s’.”

“Try ‘Seppuku’.” Kallum crunched into the apple.

“Ugh. Of course.” She looked back down and started writing.… Read the rest

Loki’s son

Thor, Sif, and Loki walked into the bar.

“Oh fuck.” It was twenty minutes to closing and the place was deserted, except for the bartender. She snapped her fingers and the sign flipped from open to closed. “I told you to stay out of here.”

“Relax, Sigyn,” said Sif. “He’s with us.” Sif  shook her hair loose from her cloak, and four beer steins sprang onto the bar. “What ‘s on tap?”

Sigyn stared at the mugs for a few seconds. “The Sam Adams isn’t bad.” She regarded Loki with lowered eyebrows, while he looked at everything in the room except his wife.… Read the rest