After the shotgun wedding, it wasn't long before their love began to fade like cheap hair dye.
It was a riot like any other: cops, hippies, tear gas, mayhem. I saw her a little too late. The uniform, dichotomous dimples, mesmerizing green-gray eyes— electric with hate as she drew a bead, grinned, and squeezed the trig...
It's Mad About Metaphor over at the Mindlovesmisery's Menagerie! This week our metaphor is give a wide berth. Gloria awakened that morning with an erroneous smile on her face. Slowly, reality set-in as she came to accept the fact that Sunday was gone and Monday had taken its place. Monday meant school. School meant mean kids and [...]
The prompt for this piece of flash fiction is "Object." Forty-one words. Marlys was all about the bling. The shinier and flashier the object, the better. Engagement rings were her favorite and she had quite a collection. The trouble was what to do with the all those ex-fiancées piling up in her cellar.
Martin knew it wasn’t normal. He’d neither seen nor heard of anyone else doing it, yet, he couldn’t help himself. The sexy skid-thump of the Huff Post hitting the driveway had him salivating. Martin especially savored the Classifieds: Ink-stained teeth, be damned!