Jack’s mind rocketed back and forth through time grasping at fragments of memory as he lay trapped inside his own pain, half hoping for death. His only escape was to linger in moments when he was happy, when he held Andie close and breathed her deeply as though he could draw her inside of him. The fire in his lungs reminded him of…Continue Reading “Six Sentence Stories – The Lie, Part 7”

Andie sat next to the makeshift cot listening to Jack’s labored breathing as her thoughts wandered to their first meeting…

She stood on the stoop looking from the address on the paper in her hands to the number on the door, her hair sticking in wet strands of what used to be ringlets around her face, her green raincoat untied and hanging open such that it provided little to no real protection from the falling rain. This had better be the right place, she thought as she dropped the knocker against the door. 


Continue Reading "Six Sentence Stories – The Lie, Part 6"

Hector’s hand hovered above the paperwork, unmoving, uncooperative, disobedient to the urging in his mind.

He knew the contract was bad from the start and he never should have started the project; no one agrees to terms like these, but when a man is just desperate enough he’ll agree to anything. Well, almost anything…there are some things even the most corrupt of men cannot bring themselves to do and he was grateful to have dodged that bullet.




Continue Reading "Six Sentence Stories – The Contract"

He stood at the edge of the field, thinking about what he must do, but focused on her.

“What you’re doing is right,” she assured him, “and don’t ever believe anything different.”

Here in the earliest moments of day the breeze lifted her hair, suspending the auburn tresses in flight against a golden dawn. She smiled the way she always did and he felt her touch on his arm, felt her calm, quiet strength move across his skin, through his veins, and into his heart, giving him the courage he needed to leave.




Continue Reading "Six Sentence Stories – The Call"

Today Kidzilla makes her guest post writing debut on the blog.

I asked her to help me out with the prompt for this week’s Finish the Sentence Friday post because I was stumped. She’s a budding little writer and, even better, she knows how to edit herself, which she did before she let me post this. What follows is completely her story, from the mouth of babes, as they say, accompanied by her own illustration. I served only as transcriptionist. 


If I were a crayon, my color would be blue. I would be colored with to death because a lot of people use blue to color things like the sky, shirts and pants, all sorts of clothing, water, and the blue part in rainbows and the screens of technology.


Continue Reading "If I Were a Crayon…"

The scope of his ignorance was stultifying. Jack could not have been more unprepared for what awaited him outside the relative safety of the shuttle…the unbearable heat, the desolate landscape, the suffocating oppressive atmosphere that made breathing practically impossible. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything else killing him if the very act of his…Continue Reading “Six Sentence Stories – The Lie, Part 2”