My favorite frame from a recent, foggy outing.
The following is a cloud I created containing all of the countries from which someone viewed my blog during the last year. Larger fonts represent nations with more numerous visits, smaller fonts represent those with less. Outside of the expected visits from my own U.S.A, totals leaned toward Northern Europe, South America and Southeast Asia. Many newcomers arrived, including Norway and the tiny island nation of St. Kitts and Nevis.
As always, my thanks to every visitor, near and far.
I write flash fiction, non-fiction, essays and novels. This month’s Tease is from, well I’m not quite sure what yet. At best, it’s a work in progress.
He doesn’t believe a word he’s hearing, a thought he’s thinking. Go back? “You’re saying I have to go back?”
“Yes. I really can’t be more clear. You must return, to where you were … well, before.”
“But, I have plans …”
“We all do, don’t we?” asked the administrator with the golden clipboard. “There really are no guarantees. Not even here.”
“But you don’t understand. We are having the Plato couple over on Thursday. And next spring, we are traveling with the Khans.” He pauses for a moment, still sure this must simply be a misunderstanding. Surely, even in paradise, mistakes can be made. “On whose authority …”
“His. There is no other.” The administrator turns his clipboard toward the man, revealing a golden sheet of paper, with the word RECALL in block letters across the top. “As you can see, He even went so far as to put it in writing. No prophesiers or visionaries to twist the meaning of His words.”
“But why? I mean, I’m a fairly decent guy, right?”
. Merry Christmas.
I write flash fiction, non-fiction, essays and novels. This month’s Tease is from a work in progress.
Then it started to return, like a foolishly placed wager that demanded to be honored. Just hours before, Jessie, this woman who was bellowing at him, had been nodding off in the passenger seat, her beautiful face twitching and blinking as she struggled to stay upright, only succumbing to sleep when he promised not to stop. But the night and the sea air, mixed with drinks, soon tugged at his eyelids as well. He had to pull over at this … “Where are we?”
“You don’t know?” She punched his arm. It genuinely, fucking hurt.
“That fucking hurt.”
“Good. The next one will be worse. Get me home, to my son … now!” He watched as she looked helplessly at her phone. “No service. Shit. I knew this was a mistake. Why did you stop? You promised. Just another promise breaker. Men, just small-dicked little boys.”
“Hey,” he started to take her comments personally. “I know I promised and I’m sorry. But I was nodding off. I had to pull over. I didn’t mean to take more than a few minutes. I’m truly sorry.” He reached for her hand and she appeared to cool briefly. The heat in her eyes turned from fire-red to blood-red.
"Everyone needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to the soul" -John Muir
Is it destiny, happenstance or stratagem?
Showcasing the beauty of Mother Nature
A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.
Reading, Writing, and some Madness
The semi-private writings of a thirty-something fat girl
reflections on a passing life
Everyone has a story to tell. This is me, telling mine.
I had to find some way to entertain myself, so I made up stories in my mind. One night I started writing them down and never stopped.
I Read To Learn About Others - I Write To Learn About Myself
The Art and Craft of Blogging
Wandering, wondering and writing
Where no one is barred and everyone is grilled.
Death Before Sour Mix
Notes on Seeing, Reading & Writing, Living & Loving in The North
The World According to Siri and Selma