A short story on the dark side. Fiction. Gaffa tape bound the sandals together. A silver badge of honour at the front to hold the toe to the sole, and black at the back to connect heel and sole. The gap in the middle couldn't be fixed until she had glue. Ania didn't have glue, … Continue reading Life, Art, and Worn-Out Shoes
FFFC#107 IMAGE from Pixabay The pen rests, the ink dry. I've run out of time, the sands are sliding my words into oblivion, my wick burned out. The last page is writ, and the message is out there. All I have to do is wait. And wait. No one comes, not to learn the lesson, … Continue reading The Final Page
I think I thought today was Friday and it was time to write a post, but apparently, yesterday was Friday and the dog went to the vet. Remember? Oh, yes. Which means today must be Saturday and I don't need to write a post. Or, it means I'm a day late, and two dollars short, … Continue reading Isn’t today Friday?
A short story, 500 words. Dark. Brown grass. Who needs to mow brown grass? Not Ted. He had a beer, a bit of tree stump to sit on, and distance from the house. All he’d done was mention the new neighbour, and the list of jobs fell from her mouth like a shovel-load of shit. … Continue reading An Element of Change