Convulsion

Loaded leaden clouds stack the sky, watching gloomily as the western wind whips waves of grass into a silky frenzy in the moments before the deluge, before the land and sea and sky open up in a soul-rending cry as the world quakes and convulses, heaves and buckles, trembles and dies.

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

Long sentence, short story

For today’s story, I was inspired by one of my many (incomplete) trunk novels.  Someday I want to go back to it and not only finish it, but polish the crap out of it, because it’s a story I love.

He laughs in her memory, the sound warm as fire and sweet as honey; for one brief, shining moment, she remembers what it was to be young and in love, a feeling she hasn’t known since the day he left her, cold and alone, with only a note to soothe her broken heart, and she longs to have his arms wrapped around her one last time to keep the cold and loneliness at bay forever.

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

A single sentence

The scales of those who came before litter the ground beneath the trees, decaying into dust, the last lonely reminders of the way things were before and the way they could be again.

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

A story in a sentence

A voice echoes in the distance, a song upon the wind, calling her back to her own time, her own place, and though she desires to heed its call, she finds her feet unable to turn back the way they came, the road to the land of Maybe forever barred.

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.