“Lon?” Vera called. She craned her head and spoke into the rest of the house. She listened. “Lon, Eddie's here.” She cocked her head and listened again. She was a thin, tall woman with kind, brown eyes, and she always seemed to be smiling. Eddie believed it was genuine, but he wondered how she kept … Continue reading Not Getting Older is Not in the Contract
Here’s the Thing, Lorie, My Name’s not Pauncho
I am not gonna plump shame Sherrie, so let us just say she was a well rounded girl with a penchant for raspberry and apple pies, strawberry ice cream, beef steak, beer, deep fried anything, and etc. etc. There is nothing wrong with having penchants. I have a few myself, but I usually go for … Continue reading Here’s the Thing, Lorie, My Name’s not Pauncho
What’s it All Worth, Anyway?
Billy Oswalling got out of his battered pickup, and came across the gravel driveway. It is a gorgeous day, and about to get gorgeouser, Eric Tiodine thought. He wasn’t getting any younger and sitting on his veranda in the morning easing the aches of life was one of his last pleasures. He swung his left … Continue reading What’s it All Worth, Anyway?
Late. Aspen leaves rustle shake glints of harvest moon— GeWongk of geese fades south. In response to the Ragtag Community WoD: panoply
They Begin the Descent into the Ufflands
“It’s the only way,” Evan said. He scanned the steep ice filled chutes and the long steep ridge. “Obviously. But where does it go?” Dorothy had a lot of things she had to be thinking of. Not the least of which was the seed she carried. “Seed of a new mankind,” the old shaman had … Continue reading They Begin the Descent into the Ufflands
A Holiday to Inner Harbor, Baltimore
An idle afternoon to finger lace with suburban longing and taste our unhungry way through a day, when she came upon us like salvation. Please sir please may I wash your windows Please sir I’m trying to feed my little girls I’ve got GlassClean. And we gazed over glinting water and the dance of sails— … Continue reading A Holiday to Inner Harbor, Baltimore
Willow grove bows and nods articulating wind’s whim on which hawk rides, hunts Posted in response to both of the Ragtag Community Word of the Day: adulation, as well as, well, articulate. Thanks, guys and gals.
Bird Woman Speaks
“I don’t suppose anyone here has ever heard of the Olicanucian Flyinitus,” said the person we knew as Robin. Her obsidian eyes glimmered and flickered with light from fireplace and the few dim bulbs hanging from a timber beams. Outside the wind moaned through the hemlock and tamarack. Wind whipped snow pelted and shook the … Continue reading Bird Woman Speaks
All morning I wait— blank paper, no poems—on the window are moths, waiting too. In response to the Ragtag Community daily prompt contact
wind-play bows whole groves, but today, just one grass stem dips— zephyr? grasshopper?