The Sinister Savior.

Rain pelting my skin, I limp towards the road. My body weak, head pounding from the blow to the steering wheel, I shield my eyes from the truck lights approaching. “You ok?” he asked. “No. I’m hurt.” “I’ll help you. Get in.” **photo by One Foot Over the Moon via Flickr

The Departed Subject.

I wish I knew. She died when I was fifteen. Time with her was sporadic before that. It pains me that I’ll never hear her reaction to it. The book wasn’t easy to write, but my mother’s story deserved to be told.

Uneven Frequencies.

“Hi Kenneth. How are you today?” Kenneth gently rocks on the plush loveseat.  His clothes are heavy with the scent of stale cigarettes and look as though they haven’t left his body in a week -an unmistakable symptom of his maddening disease. His hoodie over his head, he looks at the floor and speaks rapidly. “Doc, I can’t shut…

For No Apparent Reason.

A warm, heaviness takes over my arms. Instant panic. My mind begins racing, attempting to extinguish fear. My chest constricts – trying to contain my heart, as it bang, bang, bangs for help. My skin, struggles to suppress the internal shaking. Just breathe.   Click the badge to learn more about this awesome 42-word writing challenge. This…

Not A Good Start To A Saturday.

“I’m as freeeee as a bird now.” You’re kidding me. Shawna slaps the alarm clock. “All we are is dust in the wiiiiind.” What the frick! She yanks the cord from the wall. Back to sleep. Caw! Caw! Caw!       Alright! I’m up! ******************************************************************************************************************************* Every have this kind of Saturday morning? This week’s Gargleblaster prompt…

I Was A Teenager Once.

We pull up to the party. I can’t believe these idiots are throwing water balloons in to the street, right next to the police officer directing traffic. Fourth of July is the busiest day of the year in our little town and these fools are drawing attention to a house full of drinking teenagers. Kathy and I laugh about…

Eye For An Eye – Gargleblaster #156

  She walks away from the house, the heat on her back evoking a retaliatory satisfaction. She may never get the stench of his burning flesh out of her pores, but has no remorse. She is done picking the asphalt out of her soul. *************   This week’s question is: Who dunnit? The challenge is to tell…