He hadn’t moved all afternoon, guitar cradled against his chest. He’d played a note every now and then but mostly he just ran his fingertips along the strings as he watched people pass by below. He peeled its wooden body from his skin as he slouched a little further down on the lounge chair, an... Continue Reading →
Ryan’s heart sinks when he hears the whistle. He hasn’t even reached the escalators yet, there’s no way he’s going to make it. He’ll never live it down if he misses the show. But his feet keep moving forward, over and down the metal steps, too hard to stop once momentum kicks in. His bag... Continue Reading →
You don’t have to be crazy to be a writer. But it helps. There's a reason most writers are a little unhinged. Einstein is often quoted for saying insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result. I wonder if he realised he was describing a typical day for a writer. Every... Continue Reading →
'You can see everything from up here'. I grab for Jimmy's shirt as he leans forward, hips against the ledge and his top half leaning out over the edge looking down to the street three storeys below. 'Geez, Jim. Come on. Quit fooling around' I yank him back, hard as I can. We have a... Continue Reading →
Flash Series #2 '..'Babe, why is your shirt on backwards?' Such a simple question. But she didn't have an answer. Not a reasonable, logical answer, other than that was how she'd put it on. Not on purpose, of course...'
No one else is awake. It's just me and her. Me sitting on the back step. She crouched in the forest of grass. Black velvet fur. Ears standing straight up and pointed. Her glass bead eyes look like those of my childhood bear. But she isn't a bear. She's a bunny. A wild rabbit. I... Continue Reading →
Writers are never satisfied with their work. We're the hardiest person to please, even if it's ourselves that we're trying to placate. Left to our own devices we'd never have anything for anyone to read because we'd never be 100 percent truly satisfied and happy with what we've written. We can always find a thread... Continue Reading →
FWJ #10 '..You asked me all the places I want to go, and I gave you my list. You asked me why, and I told you. I stared at your face, not hearing a word I was saying...'
FWJ #6 '.. In the navy room, light from the street lamps frame the curtains, bursting orange and casting shadows across her limbs and curves...'