Cultivating the End I am insect to them, confined to tunnels. Eyeless, I crawl along smooth corridors, sensing where stone is cool, sniffing the air, listening for jangle of keys — and the cries of my children. I am queen of my species. Try as I might, I cannot stop my eggs from pouring forth….
Category: Friday Fictioneers
#FF — Not a Bang
Not a Bang “Greetings. Please remain where you are,” it squeaks into my mind from atop its towering mechanical conveyance. Another wee being sits in an eye socket. Three others stand on the collar area, miming universal symbols of three wise [___.] The vehicle’s mouth is uncommitted except for a wisp of upturn. My lizard…
#FF — Into the Wild
Into the Wild “Your tea, Madame,” James announces, setting the usual tray of the usual things in the usual place. There is comfort in routine. Yvette tries to convince herself; but today, her mantra’s unsuccessful. “James, get the Bentley ready, and put the top down.” She pulls a dust-dulled plastic shroud from the flowered chiffon…
#FF — Walton’s Mountain
Walton’s Mountain“It’s been fifty years. Why did we wait so long?,” says John Boy to himself.To his right, Mary Ellen is softly snoring in the passenger seat.His responsibilities as English Professor at Princeton, his commitment to caring for Mary Ellen after the accident; marrying his one true love, raising their children, and losing her to…
#FF — Units Available
Units Available Joy-Glen Apartments are nestled between quiet green mountains. Units are coveted for roominess, light, and all-inclusive utilities. Monitored surveillance cameras and twenty-foot electrified razor wire perimeter fences ensure safety. The waiting list to get in is longer than a dragon’s tail. Management insists applicants read the fine print of their leases. Most do….
#FF — Your Health Matters to Us
I leave Dr. Vargo’s office as I increasingly do, confused and discouraged. After five years of twice-weekly sessions of her trying to find trauma’s etching pieces in my early developmental puzzle –via talk therapy, hypnosis, and regression modalities, but finding nothing — still she insists on finding something that I have to conclude, just isn’t…
#FF — Keaton Island
Keaton Island My morning bike ride will take me to town, where I’ll pick up sourdough bread and assorted produce from the CSA share. I hear laughter before seeing them. Around the curve, in matching red Adirondack chairs, their gazes are fixed on Keaton Island. I stop and ask if they are on vacation. “Our…
Tao-Talk 