Rock-a-Bye Bully
I stood in the fresh country air, feet on the lower runner of a split rail fence, elbows on the upper. The strong sun beat down from behind the hazy clouds in the cadet blue sky and beaded sweat from under my long, silky bangs. The tall grass tickled in the muggy breeze and bugs buzzed and whined somewhere in it.
In the distance the trees seemed dense. Jungle dense. To a west coast kid, this place was like Africa or South America. It felt like being in the Amazon basin, and I expected night time to be filled with alien sounds of nocturnal animals crying their bloodthirsty wails into the stillness at the moon.
But it’s only Kentucky, and you’ll have to click here to keep reading
Western-Fantasy Vignette #1
A short (less than 2400 words) vignette with a western flair, but a fantasy foundation.
I had a dream several weeks ago, and this was the dream. There’s another piece of it, too, though it seemed unrelated in how diverse the scenes were. I’ll get to that one soon, I hope.
Enjoy, and please feel free to let me know what you think. I appreciate the read!
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He lowered his haunches onto his broken, dust-caked boots.
His fingers touched into the powdery, silver dust in the dirt. The fine, flour-like granules blew into a tiny cloud and wafted on the air currents along the tops of the more grainy, sandy gravel and grit of the box canyon.
He held it up to his eyes, narrowed them, and rubbed his fingertips over it.
Platinum.
His brows drew lower over his face beneath the brim of his battered hat, and he tugged it lower on his head. He rubbed his hand over his stubble-crusted chin.
Not far. Somewhere in the canyon, probably.
A Jog in the Park
By now, my dad knows I’m missing.
I don’t know where I am. I’m lying in sand. I was running, running through a park. Someone came up behind me — I thought it was another runner — and then a sharp pain, on the back of my head. Blackness, shot through with stars, then a binding over my wrists. Something over my mouth next.
Pain. A lot of pain.
Do Not Enter, Part 5
The end of the story. If you’re interested in seeing it from the beginning, you can do so from this page.
Thanks for following along, everyone!
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A hot wash of air rushed up from behind Rose.
It raised the hair on her arms and neck and a shudder wracked her body. She heard her breath, thready and whimpering, rasp in the tight confines. She felt the air heat, a layer of gleaming, slick sweat caked her skin. She turned her head, slow, her eyes searching in the dark for the eerie dances of light.
The door stood black against the bright, hot edge of orange and yellow which danced on the wall, and from the crack between the door and jamb.
Do Not Enter, Part 4
The kiriban prize for one of my faithful and very kind watchers on my deviantART page continues.
Enjoy, everyone. I think – think – only one more after this.
If you’re interested you can see the whole thing here.
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Rose shook, her eyes darted across the battered pavement.
Nothing. Utter solitude.
She heard a rasping breath, and her heart spiked. She yelped and looked over her shoulder, but only the dark square of the building against the bright midday sky stared down on her. She panted and realized the rasping breath was hers.
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