Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda
My friend David and I agreed on a writing challenge last week. We have a prompt and we have to come up with something. For this challenge, the prompt is “His feet were… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Fiction
Over the Rainbow
Do you remember the fantastic? Well, I do. I remember the little boy, sitting at the dining room table, trying his darndest to master cursive writing. He had been taught before that letters… Continue reading
As Time Goes By
9:43am Gudmrning! Hw ws brkfst, hve a good day @ work. 9:45am LOL. cereal isnt a meal 9:47am eggs, bacon, tomato sandwch. mmmmmh 🙂 9:50am yes, it was THAT good. 9:51am i still… Continue reading
Singin’ in the Rain
From afar, you’d be able to hear the patters of loafers as they ran to their doors, newspapers covering their hair. The mustached flower man grumbles as he packs the remaining daisies to… Continue reading
White Christmas
His postcards always came in, at least a day before its maximum. Together with the rest, what a bundle stacked higher than the bible, and filled with almost as much sorrow. This time,… Continue reading
Mrs. Robinson
“Mrs. Robinson, language, please,” the doctor said. Mrs. Robinson put down her teacup, quite agitated that her sharing of her latest adventures had been cut short. “Why, pardon me, kind sir. I was… Continue reading
The Way We Were
There was never a time more empowering than the day I left. You were sitting at the dining room table, putting cream in your coffee, as I lugged my suitcase out of our… Continue reading
The Man That Got Away
Dear — While searching for a friend of mine on Facebook, your name popped up. My browser still knows how many times I’ve opened your profile. And like an addict, I clicked your… Continue reading
Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend
Just like last time and the time before that, after he had wiped off the cum from his pants, he rushed out the door; one thing was different though: this time, he didn’t… Continue reading
Some Day My Prince Will Come
We would sit by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa with marshmallows, while soft jazz plays from the stereo. He would take my withered hand and put it on his chest as we’d… Continue reading