Tag Archives: death

Another Day. Another Bird.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Carter stared out the window, his chin resting on the sill. He counted the birds sitting atop the wire. Sixty-eight. Another had joined the sixty-seven that had been there yesterday, which had been sixty-six the day before. Each day another joined the others, and although Carter watched them almost endlessly, he never saw one leave.

One bird sat there for each day since what his parents had dubbed “the accident.” They were beginning to weigh the line down–a mirror of the guilt weighing on him. It hadn’t been an accident. He’d meant to smother his sister with that pillow.

Like Carter, I’ve been feeling a bit out of sorts lately, but not because I’ve smothered anyone with a pillow. I don’t know why, but I do know that it’ll pass. It always does.

Written for Friday Fictioneers.

Click here to read stories from the other Fictioneers.


A Visit With Momma

PHOTO PROMPT © The Reclining Gentleman

PHOTO PROMPT © The Reclining Gentleman

“Remember that time I picked you flowers? They were so pretty, just like you,” he said. “You beat me senseless and said I’d ruined your garden. I was only six, Momma. I didn’t know any better.”

He took a deep, calming breath. “Remember that time I got in a fight? It didn’t matter that I didn’t start it. You still burned me with your cigarette to teach me a lesson.”

“You were a terrible mother. You never told me you loved me or that you were proud.” He placed a hand on her tombstone. “But I still miss you, Momma.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers.

Click here to read stories from the other Fictioneers.


That’s My Story

PHOTO PROMPT -© Dawn Q. Landau

PHOTO PROMPT -© Dawn Q. Landau

It was the dog what done the girl in. Yeah, I know I’m covered in her blood, but that’s just because I tried to save her from the flea bag. Is that a crime these days?

I was only there because something didn’t sit right ’bout that mutt, so’s I followed the kid down by the tracks. I was worried ’bout her, ya know? Can you fault me for caring too much?

The dog was following her so’s I followed too. Crazy mutt just up and attacked her out of nowhere. I wasn’t close enough to help the kid.

This story was written for Friday Fictioneers.

I just wanted to let you all know, in case you missed the news, I’ve got a new book coming out March 15th. It’s a collection of four short stories, a bit different than my books of 100 word stories. I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.


Storybook Corner: Walking in the Desert

002The scorched earth beneath his worn out boots made him long for the past—when he was still a boy, before life got its grimy hands on him. He hated the desert, and it hated him right back. He and the desert had never gotten along well, but he’d gone too far to turn back. He’d done too many things to too many people to even think about going back—bad things, unspeakable things.

He was a flesh and blood monster, not the kind that kids think live under their beds. Something worse. Something far worse. But he was tired of it. He didn’t want to be that thing anymore. That’s why he and the desert had gotten reacquainted after so many years apart. That’s why he’d left his car on the side of the highway and entered a hell that had almost taken his life the last time he’d been there.

This time, he planned to make sure it finished the job.


The Long Walk Nowhere

The sickness hit hard, and it hit fast. Before long the dead piled up with few left to tend to their decomposing bodies. The handful of us that remained–and could still walk–left town a week after the initial wave of sickness swept through. There were six of us, now there are two. Only John and I remain, and John is coughing up blood.

We’ve not seen another living thing since we started on our journey–not even a bird. I find myself wondering what I’ll do when John is gone. Why carry on when the world is dead?