Craft: Bad Habit

Elisa hesitated in front of the door.  She shouldn’t go back to the bar- she should let the guys be, and leave quietly.  She would do that. The door opened and Tina poked her head in- spotted Elisa. “There you are-” she said.  “Ron sent me to find you.  Said he was afraid you’d gotten

Craft: Motherly Love

Karen lurched foward against the counter weight of her captors.  Pain shot up her arms from her bound wrists.  She ignored it. “Get my kids.  Give me my kids!” she shouted. “Where is your base?”  The man before her asked.  He wore a dark suit and spilled over with power.  Behind him was a young man in a

Critique on Procrastination

This isn’t my most creative piece, but it was actually harder for me to write than many.  Of course there are lots of reasons this might be, but I think it was the title.  It just kept working on the subterranean side of my brain, telling me I didn’t really want to get it done. 

Craft: Procrastination

I moved past the fish tank, but kept my eyes turned away. Let’s see.  I needed to make a grocery list, pick up the package from the post office, move the laundry along. Clean out the fish tank. Quickly I moved around the kitchen.  Set out the fish to thaw, whip up some mousse for

Craft: Disgust

The little ameoba floated in the sluggish current.  When it reached its parent it brushed against her.  Brushed again.  And again. “What is it?” the parent asked. “Nothing, . . . I just- heard a new word.  Do you know what ‘splitting’ is?” The parent ameoba undulated in the murky water, its anterior and secondary pseudopods blurring

Craft: Silent Communication

Sharon leaned forward to check the map on the side of the train.  Her body swayed with the rythm of the rails.  She reached out and grabbed the pool next to her, and just in time.  The train banked into a turn and her body went into a swooping lean that was only kept in check