Great, fantastique, awesome, super. Just how many more different ways can I exaggerate this situation? I don’t know what gave anyone the idea or the impression I can single-handedly put together a Thanksgiving dinner in 4 hours. 4 HOURS!!! There I was, slaving away in the kitchen – turkey, vegetables, and stuffing in the oven,…
Sitting on this park bench, I am supposed to feel cold but somehow, I feel nothing except exhaustion and resignation.
A typical wintry scene here – snowy mountains and an almost-full moon.
Sitting in her car, Shelley debates whether she should go in.
“Welcome to the future!” A large headline flashes before me. I suppress a laugh.
With her hand in mine, my daughter and I walk toward the Ferris wheel. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“How dare you destroy my precious piano?” Grandma? I wanted to say but my lips had turned to jello.
“My husband is missing, you must help me!” I pleaded in broken French.
I live in a doomed world, I think grimly as I huddle in the dark corner of the Red Mountain Market and Deli, my go-to grocery store some 20 years ago. Teeth clattering, hands shaking, I reach into my jacket pocket for my trusty bottle of Ibuprofen. Great, final two.
“Tell me how you find these again?” Jen asked.
“The scream, which occurs every day at precisely 3 PM, can be heard from a mile away.
“There’s got to be a way to stop this wretched winter!” Jezebel, the eldest of the witch sisters, said, slamming shut the thick book on her lap.
With one hand on the wheel, I undo my tie with the other. Just three hours before, I shouted, “I’m done,” and stalked out.
Chuy barked, tilted his head and sniffed the air. “What is it, boy?” I bent down and patted his head. Chuy barked again but before I could get a hold on his leash, Chuy shot into the woods. “Chuy, wait!” I yelled and ran after him. Running after him was like running after a car.…
“Jimmy, how many times do I have to tell you?” Mom said in her usual-nagging-southern-accent.
I was nominated by Rugby843 at the same time as Sandman to participate in this challenge. I participated in Sandman’s picture yesterday and hopefully, I’ll write something just as fun for this picture today. The rules of this challenge are: 1) write something in response to the photo you are given, and 2) pick a…
I was nominated by Sandmanjazz to participate in this challenge. The rules of this challenge are: 1) write something in response to the photo you are given, and 2) pick a picture of your own and nominate three people.
One, two, three, four, I count the seconds-pass mentally as I jab the piece of paper into the slot with my pen.
“It doesn’t matter when, the dark clouds will eventually disappear to let the sun shine.” Her mother’s words ring in her ears as she stands on the damp green grass of the cemetery.
Ryan guffawed when Sam told him his weather wizard worked. “Oh yeah? If you don’t believe me, go take a look yourself.”
It was a minute after someone yanked the sack from his head that he registered his surroundings.
Nobody wanted the role. In fact, nobody in their right mind would had wanted the role. To squeeze your feet into those tiny-size-2-boots everyday for six weeks? No, thanks. Why couldn’t they cast a child for this role? The character is a child anyway. Is casting a child really this difficult? I thought angrily as…
December 25, 2146, Seaside Village, Historic North Carolina In gray stockings and a wool dress draped around her ankles, eleven-year-old Lula opened the door and stepped out of the two-bedroom rambler she and her parents have called home all their lives. Sucking in a deep breath, Lula glanced around the white-washed, orange-roof village. It had…
