Short Stories

The Text – Fiction

Word count: 399

Prompt: The beginnings of all things are small

You hear the sound of an incoming text message and look down at your phone for no more than 30 seconds, but it’s all that it takes to crash into another car. You see the woman you hit passed out against the steering wheel with blood pouring from her head.

You’re rushed to the hospital and learn you will need to stay a few days. You lie in your new bed and watch the news. You see the woman’s face from the car and turn up the volume. Reporters say she’s unconscious and has a traumatic brain injury; the doctors don’t think she will survive.

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Writing

Where Did My Productivity Go?

I recently returned home after visiting my parents. Strangely enough, I was actually more productive while on vacation at their house than I am back at home.

Someone explain that one to me…

The evidence shows in this blog and in my numbers with Camp NaNo. I’m still 3k+ words behind, and my laptop has spent most of its time in the computer bag rather than open. (That’s really the problem – I don’t have a computer desk here. Well, that and the fact that my nights and days are completely out of sync. Going to bed at 3 or 4 am is not conducive to productivity.)

While procrastinating once again on my Camp NaNo stats, I stumbled upon an article by Kristen Lamb that resonated well with me and my current predicament. Perhaps you will enjoy it too.

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Short Stories

The Countdown – Fiction

Word count: 349

Prompt: Glitch

Four years, eleven months, and twenty days
since my life has been on pause.
Seven days until I can push play
I’m not sure I’ll make it.
The other prisoners know it’s coming,
and they’re doing their best to provoke me into a fight
“Stealing my time” they call it.
If I fight them, I’ll be punished
put into solitary confinement
and my seven days will be replaced with months.

Four years, eleven months, and twenty-one days
I’ve made it this far, I can make it six more days, right?

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Short Stories

The Doll’s Eyes

Word count: 192

Constructive criticism is welcomed!

Three, six, nine
The goose drank wine
The monkey chewed tobacco
On the streetcar line

I remember my little girl singing those words when she jumped rope outside. I would watch her from my spot on the steps, and I wished I could jump too.

But dolls can’t jump.

I watched her as she slept. I smiled as she dreamt and wished I could dream too.

But dolls can’t dream.

I stayed by her side when she was afraid of the monster under her bed and the shadows in the room. I tried to whisper comforting words.

But dolls can’t whisper.

I wanted to scream when he came. I wanted to wake her as he snuck in through the window and pressed his hand down on her face to silence her.

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Short Stories

Knothole

Word count: 145

Constructive criticism is welcomed!

I put the car in park and walk up to my childhood home that’s now for sale. The tree in the front calls to me. I stare up at the knothole that I used to think was the gateway to Narnia. It reminds me of To Kill a Mockingbird and summertime and the tree house I wanted to build but never did. As a sapling, this tree walked all over the yard while…

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