Tag Archives: real

Fly

Here’s a short I wrote a couple years ago. Back then I didn’t really write shorts at all, but I knew this one had to be put to paper, and as soon as the idea occurred to me I got writing.

It turned out to be one of the first pieces I considered good enough to share, and most of those that read it have enjoyed it. Do you?

Fly

Stephen flapped his arms with all of his might, but it was no good; he fell just like everyone else had. His laughter caught in his throat when he saw his brother and sister beneath him, and all he could do was flap harder. Continue reading Fly

The Tornado

This one’s based on a first sentence prompt. One of the places mentioned in the story is the Whiteshell, which is a massive provincial park in Manitoba, Canada. There’s lots of nice camping and many people have cottages there too. Tornadoes in general are a rare thing in Manitoba (they happen, but there’s a lot of uninhabited wilderness), but I remember one day reading that one passed through cottage country. It gave me an idea, and this prompt was what finally turned it into a story. Enjoy!

The Tornado

Jeremy was dead. Kathleen let out a ragged whimper and slid to the cold kitchen floor. Her legs had given out and her arms fell to her sides. Even the pistol was suddenly too heavy and she set it down beside her. Her left eye was swelling shut and she could taste blood in her mouth. There was a new hole, too, where just this morning there had been a tooth. Continue reading The Tornado

A Stranger Come By

This short was written based on a first sentence prompt. I received the prompt shortly after having finished Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, so I had the West on my mind.

A Stranger Come By

A jarring chord from the piano rang out through the bar as all eyes turned to the stranger who had just crossed the threshold. Lester de Montaigne dropped his thick glass, spilling his whiskey on his lap. Carson, Big Lou, and William McCormack all set their cards down on the table, the pot forgotten. Sweet Dolly untangled her flabby arms from around Danny’s neck, and then scurried behind the piano. Danny didn’t notice–he slid lower into his chair and made himself small. And Jacob Smith and Robby Nyquist, both as drunk as the day was long, well, even they shut their gobs. Continue reading A Stranger Come By