Friday, October 14, 2016

[Six Sentence Fiction] Encounter

I was stringing up laundry in the backyard when I saw him standing at the edge of the woods, naked as you please, the only thing giving him some shred of decency being the thigh length rat’s nest of hair hanging over his shoulders.

Nan used to warn me about naked woodsmen, telling me “run if you see ‘em girl cause they’ll do you a goodly bit of mischief and no Christian woman needs that on her conscience.” But really, I’d always thought she was a little senile if not totally full of shit and besides, I wasn’t a Christian woman, so I went on hanging the laundry and keeping one eye on him.

Wild-animal timid, he’d creep close and pull back, watching me, until I ran out of laundry. I sat down on the stoop to see what he’d do and that’s when he struck, lunging into my $70 Northern Nights sheets and snapping my clothes line; I screamed and threw an empty planter at him. When he leapt out of the tangled clothes line and shot for the woods, he had my husband’s Day-Glo Incredible Hulk boxer shorts in his hand.

Monday, October 10, 2016

[Music Monday] Haunted Antique Edition

Music from the 1930s-1950s often has a haunting quality about it. It may speak to something about the era. The world on the brink of war, then in the midst of war and then locked in a cold war. Death and destruction lurking in the shadows, occasionally making itself known.

Here are a select few of those haunting songs.They'd be great for a Halloween party.

"Miss Otis Regrets" - Ethel Waters

"Nightmare" - Artie Shaw

"It's All over But the Crying" - The Inkspots

Friday, October 7, 2016

[Impossible Things Journal] Moon Whispers

Moon and stars above a treeline.

The moon listens in on conversations. Sometimes, she whispers what she hears to the stars. So when you think the stars are twinkling just for might be right.

Monday, October 3, 2016

[Music Mondays] October Kickoff Edition

It's that time of year again. The weather's growing cooler, the day's shorter, the leaves are changing, and the world is taking on a slightly different hue: red and gold cast in black shadows.

Do you ever find yourself looking over your shoulder a little more at this time of year? Doing a double take to make sure you saw (or didn't see) what you think you saw?

I do. Shadows are slick and wily in October. They might be hiding something.

To celebrate this haunted month, I'm digging through my favorite media (everything from movies to video games to fanfiction) for some songs that are appropriate for all those lengthening shadows, falling leaves, and those moments where you just can't help but follow that figure that's appeared in your peripheral vision. Even though it's probably just the cat. Probably.

Here are a few for this Monday.

"The Star Spangled Soldier" / The Star Spangled Banner - Chase Holfelder

"House of the Rising Sun" - Lauren O'Connell

"Oh Death" - Jen Titus

Saturday, October 1, 2016

[Snippets] Tourist

Last night I dreamed that Death came by and offered me her hand. 

"Slow going, tonight," she said, "how about I show you around?"

And off we set in her custom black Mercedes, parting the night around us. With one hand on the gear, and the other on the wheel, she drove with a carefreeness born of centuries.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Saturday Shorts 9-24-16

Describe your favorite place in 33 words.

Leave a link to your response in the comments before midnight on Sunday. I'll share it on Twitter. (Or, if you don't have a blog, leave your response in the comments.) Visit anyone else who has participated. Have fun!

Friday, September 23, 2016

[Six Sentence Fiction] A Typical Friday


A story in six sentences.

Mama’s digging through the couch again, looking for the change that always falls out of people’s pockets when they sit on those broke down cushions. (When I was younger I used to imagine there was some kind of magnet built into that couch…I wouldn’t have put it past mama to figure out how to do something like that.)

I’ve taken Bethy and baby Jack into the kitchen and I’m trying to keep ‘em quiet, ‘cause Mama, when she’s like this, can’t stand a lot of noise.  Jack’s just started to work up a good whimper when she stomps into the kitchen—and the look on her face is the one she wore the last time I got the belt—but she’s only got her keys in hand and she’s not looking at me but the Mason jar on the fridge. She pulls it down and, when she can’t get the lid off, throws it in the sink so hard it explodes, glass and green bills scattering all over the counter; she scrapes everything up—doesn’t even notice when the shards of glass stick into her hands—and walks out the door.

A few seconds later, I hear the Rambler start up and through the little window over the sink, I can see her swerving toward town and I know when she comes back she’ll have a plastic baggie stuffed in her purse and bruises on her arms.


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