Nov 29, 2017

If You Polish Enough Soot

PHOTO PROMPT ©What's His Name

James salvaged everything he could when his grandmother’s house burnt down.

He said, “If you polish enough soot from tragedy, you’ll find roots to build a bridge.”

Astonished, his brother argued, “A bridge! Why would you want what lived in that house crossing over anywhere near you? I could never sleep when staying there for the wailing in the attic and the wallpaper rearranging roses in its stripes every full moon. Grandma Winnie’s house sat twenty-five feet from Hemlock Cemetery’s plot of unmarked graves. Hell! The dead walked right through her front door. I’m done!

Nov 22, 2017


PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

I hate to move. Oh, if I could just be a minimalist instead of a forty year old with a teenager’s emotional attachment to junk. If I wasn’t so lazy I’d photograph that monstrous prom mum; put it in an album, and leave another gaudy offering in the landfill.

I museum heartbreak in little dusty coffins so crumbled I can’t even read the ink headstones peeking out among my shoes. Wait! I remember that necklace. It was a fourteen year old’s equivalent to a promise ring. David was so cute. Hmmm, with a little better packing it would all fit.

Nov 21, 2017

A Wonderful Interview

It takes a village to grow an author and I am so thankful for all the people who suggested I do an interview on Impact Radio USA's "Dr. Paul's Family Talk" hosted by Dr. Paul Reeves. As an author of poetry it was great to discuss what poetry means to me and why I write it.


Nov 16, 2017

Walking Away From 1950

This is my first time writing for Friday Fictioneers. I heard about it from listening to Rochelle Wisoff-Field's interview on Dr. Paul's Family Talk radio show. I normally write poetry, but I thought I would attempt a short story. 

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

I didn’t expect the water show when I burnt the roast to spite the man. Charlie is never good with filters when he speaks. He dropped a match in the room, and well, there was fire.

He bragged, “No woman is fully dressed until she puts on an apron. Her best asset is knowing how to use a spoon.”

I made a slight adjustment to the oven temperature, and told him to keep an eye on the roast. Knowing he wouldn’t I traded apron for heels. Sass needs to make noise when it’s walking away from 1950. Firetrucks are optional.