She was eighty when being eighty meant being eighty.
The Benefits of a DIY Writing Retreat - Brevity's Nonfiction Blog
We never did make a fire. We never sat outside in the glorious sun. We didn’t kayak or even take a walk.
Dry Heat in Nine Muses Poetry
Unblessed - Manqué Magazine
His apartment was large and bare and smelled of nothing.
Liminal Space - Cathexis Northwest Press
Did I tell you I wanted this –
The Lake - The Drabble
Lakes keep secrets, she once said, you’ll feel them on a winter’s morning when it’s just you, the wind rippling the water’s skin, and the quiet melody of the birdsong.
Looking Glass - The Bangalore Review
There was no great splash. Time didn’t stop. He simply slid into the water, and it enveloped his little body.
Bobby Briggs and the Wrong Ryan Miller Collection - Funny Pearls
As I stood among the small neat granite headstones, the larger sculptures, the old solemn trees, and the incongruous brazen red 15 mph signs, he had told me, ‘I’ll be leaving this weekend,’ and I had let his words go unanswered.
Interview: Michelle Bailat-Jones - PANK
Unfurled is told from the perspective of a single character, Ella, but who tries to grant herself imaginative access to a story that she could not have really known…
Review: Thank Your Lucky Stars - Necessary Fiction
Flick’s writing is fresh and decisive, often lyrical in its descriptions.