A dark shadow crept from corner to corner in a dimly lit alley. The figure came ever closer, moving quickly. I started to run back toward the street. I could see the light at the end. It was still so far away. I could feel my heart throbbing heavily in my chest, fueled by adrenaline. The air rushed past my ears and kept me from hearing any advancing footsteps. I couldn’t afford to turn around in case she was still following me. Continue reading Outside of Greentown: Chapter 5
I watched Erlina disappear from the antique shop’s office and sit back in my chair. “What the hell is she doing here?” I thought to myself. I threw a cloth over my crystal and massaged my temples. It’s been 50 years since the last time I drove her out of my town. I picked up my now stone cold tea and finished it. I spun the cup in my hands and looked closely at the dregs. I had already known there were going to be visitors two weeks ago when a few leaves floated to the top of my cup. Four leaves. Four days away. I did the math in my head. She’s been here for ten days. Enough time for her to cause plenty of trouble. Why didn’t I see her before? I began to worry as I recognized the clear shapes in the leaves. Continue reading Outside of Greentown: Chapter 4
He crushed his cigarette under the heel of his boot and stood up. The man grabbed his case off the bench and turned to walk into town. The chugging of the train softened as he weaved between buildings and a chill ran up his spine when he heard a wolf cry out faintly. He quickened his pace towards the shop. He couldn’t be late for the meeting. Tardiness was not something this particular customer tolerated. Continue reading Outside of Greentown: Chapter 3
The midnight train whistled shrilly as it began to take off towards the West, slowly lurching forward on the moonlit tracks. The hard wheels squealed in the cool summer evening. Men rubbing sleep from their eyes bustled about in the dark, securing and checking the cars. The engineer fed the steel beast’s red-hot belly with shovel after shovel of coal to quicken their forward movement. The frowning whistle screamed once more as they chugged steadily out of the station. A man sat on a bench outside the station in the dark, quietly smoking, watching the train pull out. Continue reading Outside of Greentown: Chapter 2
The moonlight streamed through the window and I felt its livening touch on my cheek as I lay in bed. I was beginning to sweat, just like every time before. I knew the spell wouldn’t work. Continue reading Outside of Greentown
The sound of breaking glass rattles the floor beneath us.
“Carl, what was that?” Continue reading Hide and Seek
“Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water,
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.”
Shrieks echo in my head as I look out the cracked door window. A pail filled with the blackest water rests upon a crumbling well in the far corner of the yard. Soft fog threads itself on the dew covered ground. Under a moonless sky, darkness convulses, daring me to enter its domain. With every flint of a shadow, flickering lights paint a story of death and despair. My breathing grows shallow and beads of sweat pool down my flushed skin. Images of pale flesh tainted with blood fill my mind’s eye and air eludes me. My legs buckle and the floor reaches out for my soul. The darkness outside shudders in anticipation. I fall against the decaying door and it opens like the mouth of Hell. Continue reading A crown floating in a pail of water
Doctor Buchannan sits patiently at the bus stop. Stops 109 and 110 are on the edge of town. He watches as half a dozen people approach bus stop 109 across the street. He drops his head towards the ground but keeps his eyes up, watching the small silent group. Rustling leaves and the chirping of not so distant insects gives the night a quiet hum. Continue reading Bus stop 109
A six-word story: prose composed of exactly six words. Can it be done?
Mr. Morse holds in his wrinkled hands a bottle of water, a metal wire, a knife and a purple rose. After making it to the marker, he eases himself onto a bench directly across the way.
Minnie was one of the smartest girls in the school.
Those of us who paid any attention knew she was the one to ask for help. She was always the first to raise her hand and always got better test scores than everyone else in class. You could even see her intelligence in her eyes, in the way she stared at you like she was trying to figure out what to think of the person who currently had her attention.
I didn’t speak to Minnie for more than a year after we first met.
“So,” he said with a smirk, “What do you want to know about me?” I was completely taken aback. How do you answer a question like that? I wanted to say, “Nothing, thanks for the coffee, bye.”
I realized my mouth had been hanging open for nearly a minute. I had to think of something to say before he took my stunned silence as flattery.
“Oh,uh, I don’t know. Tell me something interesting about yourself,” I said.
He took a large breath as if he were about to recite a speech and replied, Continue reading Bad Date Brad: Part two
Hello there, Whim readers! This week I promised my editor that I’d write some interesting prose for you. I searched through tons of writers journals and files to find just the right fit. So this week enjoy reading the story of a girl whose name I’ll keep anonymous, and her horrible date with a guy who we’ll call “Brad”. My, I mean, HER misery is your entertainment. Continue reading Bad Date Brad: A short story
Dear yoga pants,
Goodbye and thank you my dear friend. You will surely be missed. As the winter comes to an end I often fear I’ll never see you in your glory again. These past few months have made life a joy for everyone. Both men and women loved you. I’ll always remember the good times, like the time you walked by me and I stared. Or that other time you walked by me and I stared. Or that time when you walked by me and I super stared. The memories will forever replay in my mind. Continue reading A goodbye love letter to yoga pants
The field was buried in a white hue. One by one the soldiers, bundled in their puffy jackets and mismatched wool gloves, stared at their ammunition busily crafting more. Their faces flushed from the cold; they paid no attention to their breath as it stayed suspended in the air. Clouds covered the sun and painted our skin grey. I looked around at our army. Everyone was so young. Some of us weren’t even six yet. Others barely in the double digits. Many people will try and glorify this war, but I assure you, there is nothing more horrifying than a snowball fight. Continue reading Snowball fight
I don’t want to go to heaven. I dreamt that I died. I met St. Peter at the pearly gates and he opened them and invited me inside, but I didn’t budge. I looked inside and saw peace, serenity, constance, a destination. I asked him if I could choose not to go in. I wasn’t ready to rest yet, and frankly, I’m not sure I’d like heaven too much. Continue reading Damned to Heaven