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Tag Archives: Online Writing
I’m such a tangle! But at least I’m telling it like it is. (This poster was salvaged from the sea at Margate; the tangle of fishing lines, from St Margaret’s Bay, Kent). Continue reading
The Laurel Grove Mysteries (Book One)
Flint & Feather
“Sweet to tongue and sound to eye …”.
She was motionless outside Trocadéro metro station, looking up the steps towards the entrance to the musée de l’Homme. How had she landed up here? She should have been on the Left Bank, heading towards the gallery. She was weary to her bones.
… bone, wood, horn, feather, thread of gut …
Again, the peculiar sensation of being outside herself, her sosie – Laurel Two looking into Laurel One. This time Laurel Two was seeing, reflected back from the blackness of her twin’s pupil, a halo. On the halo’s inner rim was a web from which tiny random drops of light were suspended. Continue reading
Every Friday authors from around the world gather at the virtual fireside of fellow WordPress blogger, author Rochelle Wisoff to share flash fiction stories of 100 words, all inspired by a common photograph, and exchange constructive criticism. Readers’ comments are … Continue reading
“Drunk again? If I’d a woman like Nancy, Bill, I’d hammer her”.
It was old Fagin, last straggler from the village pub. Nancy’s arm began to slide from around Bill’s neck. He grabbed it back. Continue reading
“Some pros don’t know to quit.”
“That’s one hell of a tune.”
“Claimed an Austin. And that he’s going for an Ostrich!”
“Nobody ever did it. He can only get one on a par 7 – if he holes this shot. More likely shooting his temperature!”
“My butt’s stinging already on account of that Calcutta.”
“You bet on this goon?”
“Hate to admit it.”
Every Friday authors from around the world gather at the virtual fireside of fellow blogger Rochelle Wisoff to share flash fiction stories of 100 words, all prompted by a common photograph, and exchange constructive criticism. Readers’ comments are also welcome. … Continue reading
“I’m Professor Michael … “
“He’s Mike, I’m Jeff,” the younger one shot the elder a look. “We work with Annelise.”
“Did your daughter ever mention SQUIDS, … “
“She hated fish…”
“…Josephson … Cooper… Shapiro steps… breakthrough… not steps, spiral…”
“Where’s Annelise?” Continue reading
The Last Road Trip
Sure she breathes! Though it sounds like Siberian throat singing.
She’s just your everyday girl, though the boy next door avoids her.
Built her with my own hands, though I had to pay two men at night for some of her parts.
“I’m yours, baby,” sang Ray.
“Hotter than July,” sang Stevie.
“Let’s take the long way around the world,” sang Ronnie.
“Love at first sight,” they joked.
She fitted right in with those hot rods in Bonneville.
She took to disappearing. There’s news of a hit’n run.
We’re heading for the mountains: me, her, Ray, Ronnie and Stevie.
(c) Ann Isik 2013
100 words Continue reading