Sarah sits down at the table. In front of her is her canvas, wide and white and clean. She does not know yet what she will create, but she knows instinctively that it will be beautiful.
Our polar bears heard that we were planning a trip to Maui, and now they want to go too. For the IndieInk Photo Battle (#IIPhoto) this week, Sarah Cass challenged me with “Humor” and I challenged Flood Gondekowa with “hope.”
“My little boy is all grown up!” Gregory’s mother bounced around their home with glee as she spoke the words. Her other offspring had already flown the nest, but Gregory, ever the cautious one, had always voiced his reservations about
Seven days. I’ve been stuck in this godforsaken place for seven frickin’ days. Or has it been more than a week? Months? Years? I can’t tell anymore. It started when I visited a corn maze with my friends. It had
Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry, Go to sleepy little baby. When you wake, you shall have All the pretty little horses. – African-American lullaby The woman walked slowly to the well. It was a hot, dry day, and the smell of
At long last, I am awake. I have been drifting in this inky blackness for so long that I’d almost forgotten what consciousness felt like. Was it just yesterday I kissed my mother goodbye and crawled into my stasis capsule?
When I first suggested taking a family trip to the Renaissance Faire, I was shot down immediately. “Mom was making plans to go to Disney World,” Dad told me, before burying his head in the newspaper. “But it’s my last
[Read Part 1 of this story] Fog rolled off the Featherpass mountains like an overflowing cauldron, spilling into Magicka Bay. The sun glinted off the surface of the ocean. It was a dreary day. Kip sighed and turned away from
Kip gazed up at the iron gates in front of her. The entrance to the Magicka was forbidding, but deceptively so: the metal was twisted into an intricate design that left many holes large enough for a man to climb
This week for the Indie Ink Writing Challenge, I got a really interesting prompt, and I decided to do something a little different with it this time. My prompt came from Brad MacDonald, who wrote: The tattoo means I always