-
Weekly Writing – July 30 2022
Her grandmother had always said the moon was just a hole in the sky, a cozy place for a white snake larger than the largest mountain to curl up. It ventured out sometimes, of course, as hungry as all snakes… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – July 23 2022
Easier when doom came all at once, as something that had to be fled on foot or else. As something slow, there was time almost to believe they could adapt to it. They even dared to keep drawing water from… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – July 16 2022
A cat or fox, or even a stag, would certainly have made for a more convenient familiar. Something that could move on its own, do minor chores, the sort that didn’t need hands, and curl up next to her in… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – July 9 2022
The rope hung down into the darkness of the rift, still and almost certainly not touching the bottom. Kay had tugged and swung it about, trying to sound the depths, but there seemed to be as little sound as light… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – July 2 2022
She was far past the point of wanting to simply sit down and cry. It felt almost as if she had missed the gap in her resolve that would have let her do so – the hole she could have… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – June 18 2022
He took as deep a breath as he could hold, as deep and sound as ever, it seemed, and shone the penlight into the hole again. Holding his side with a splayed hand, stretching the skin from the edges of… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – June 11 2022
“There,” one of them pointed, leaning precariously far from the edge of the slanted roof. “Right there.” The other stayed sensibly seated, squinting at a horizon that looked no different than it had five minutes or five days ago. “I… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – June 4 2022
It felt silly to even think such a thing, but it was true, wasn’t it? The skies hadn’t been clear since they had started building that church. Almost three months ago. When it didn’t rain, the skies hung in sullen… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – May 28 2022
It was just down the hall. Thirty seconds at a dead sprint, and he could be safe. She had already gone. Almost three hours ago, and he had listened with his ear pressed against the door as her footsteps had… Continue reading
-
Weekly Writing – May 21 2022
“It’s not right,” she said, as he tore another page from the book and began folding it into the tiny square that would make it easiest to swallow. “Of course it isn’t,” he said. “If it was right, we wouldn’t… Continue reading
