Evident Is Relevant – A Story Poem

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr. Thank you Yarnspinnerr!Please click lil froggy for other stories.

Here is the photo and my entry:

Evident Is Relevant

The moment was buttery
like a croissant
like a java jolt
and the air
thick all around the table between us.

The setting was white
like a barista’s heart
drawn bright
and feathered upon
the stillness.

Let’s not dwell on this.
How hard it was to lose you.

I should have seen
the no entry signs
before you left.

Another moment
slipped away
between words I wouldn’t hear.


w/c 76

A Fantasy

I don’t usually post political opinions.  No need to change course now…here’s a political fantasy 😛

If I was Donald Trump’s sister – god forbid – I’d try to begin a conversation with him that went something like this:

“Donald, go to your room until you can behave yourself.  And while you’re there, I suggest you send in your letter of resignation.”

There’s always hope…


All For A Yellow Daffodil – Fiction

I’m still recovering  from a minor episode of carpal tunnel inflammation.  I want to make an entry into this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers and hope that other writers will forgive me just being able to like and not comment at this time.

Here is my submission,  for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  Thanks to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge.  Click the lil froggy for more stories.  My story was inspired by this photo:

walled cityAll For A Yellow Daffodil

From where Vallerie stood, the world seemed hazy.  She knew, though, that just beyond the castle walls deserts could bloom and the cello’s notes could be carried upon even the driest winds to sooothe.

She  looked down upon the dying castle gardens.  Hope seemed to dwell in bringing them back to life.  A promised release always just beyond her reach.  She longed to see yellow daffodils.

“Oh here you are!”  Silence was suddenly broken by the King’s voice.

Vallerie crossed her arms in front of her and turned, from the window, to face her King.  “Yes, here I am.”

The King  waved in the direction of the window.  “That garden will never come to life again.”  He shook his head and looked at Vallerie.  “I have another task for you, though.  Perhaps you won’t find it as difficult as the garden it’s…”

“No!”    Vallerie ran from the room.

The word echoed in the night and followed Vallerie into the garden and through the garden gate.


This week’s photo prompt is provided by TJ Paris

One Afternoon Downtown – Fiction in 100 Words

One Afternoon Downtown

“Have you quit your day job yet?” he asked.

“No. Not yet.” I felt my heart sinking.

I was in the editor’s office. Mr. Editor was handing me my manuscript. “We’re going to publish this,” he told me. “And then, if you’re interested, we’d offer you a two-year fellowship at Writer’s Lodge.”

It took another hour to say ok and thank you and catch the trolley home.

“And then what?” my mother asked. She had almost fallen off her chair listening to my story.

“I said I’d have to ask my mother.”

“You said what?”

We hugged and laughed.


A WP Friend Has Published Again!

Check this out! Just in time for holiday giving.

Legends of Windemere

Dive into the newest adventure of Luke Callindor, Nyx, Fizzle, & all their friends.

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

What’s the Story?

After their battles in Gaia and surviving the Island of Pallice, the champions of Windemere are off on their next adventure.

In his quest to be a hero and help others, Luke Callindor has jumped into danger countless times and would do so again without hesitation. So when he is infected by the toxic Dark Wind, it is up to his friends to find a cure and keep his courage alive. With time running out and their enemies in the shadows, one ally will make the decision to share in Luke’s suffering and forge a bond that runs thicker than blood. Such a sacrifice might not be enough when the truth behind this living curse comes to light.

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Chloe Swallows Her Pride – Fairy Prose

I’m going to continue, here, the sort of fairytale book I’m writing.  If you’re interested, you can somewhat catch up  – maybe not totally, sigh – here    – but it stands alone nicely, too, I think:

…Not only are fairies difficult, but they are also very sensitive creatures. Although my own Bedroom Fairy, Brightly, was the most perfect fairy, there is Chloe to consider. She is not above or below perfection. Chloe is simply difficult and sensitive…(from the first story)

Chloe Swallows Her Pride

Please do excuse me for my abrupt exit during our last visit. Most of our family’s energies, since my daughter Irene lost her tooth and Chloe and her sister Ivy pretended to be tooth fairies, have been spent trying to smooth Chloe’s sensitive and ruffled wings.

Chloe stayed gone for a very long time. At least it seemed that way to us.   Instinctively we knew that Chloe was embarrassed because she thought she’d failed in some way. However, not being fairies, we were unable to let Chloe know how little such things mattered.

Slowly she began to make her way back – deeper into our garden and nearer my studio window.

One afternoon, I was working on my latest canvas. “Chloe? What do you think? Shall I add a tad more blue to this sky?”

“I think more light.”

“Ah! Thank you, Chloe!” And I added some golden to the canvas.


Over The Fence A Loudness – Prose

So I’m not sure how this will work as it includes links and all but…this is a 100 word piece of fiction (100 words exactly are required I think).  It is submitted for ‘Friday Fictioneers’ It is using the photo below.  I hope I have done this correctly.  100 words of fiction based on this photo prompt:

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright – Erin Leary

Over The Fence A Loudness

One night came a loudness from over the fence and through the air.   Into our window it floated. The sound woke my sister.  Like a boom had come to her ears.  I comforted her back to sleep again.

Next morning we learned it.  All the little children had been killed and all that had saved us was that bloody broken fence Pa meant to fix just yesterday.

Days later, in the misty morning’s chill, someone close cried over graves of those she’d taken.  And all the gods that were, another distant misty morning, did dance upon her evil grave.