Browsing Category: Short Story

        To his words, his touch and leaving, all of she enlivened: warmth of her skin, heighten of sense; imagination, vision, and see in mind; raise and tinge and nerves of her ends to sense and complete of vision’s see; lowering and slowing of breath as she gazed on open of they yellow […]

        “There is a beauty in the openness, don’t you think?” he asked to Anna as she sat at morning table in open light of open room, empty—open—page before her; lines of blind shadows and cast of pen, near to but not quite parallel, in crossing of the line-ruled spacing of the page; […]

“The kids are in town for a funeral…” _____                They made him nervous, funerals and the tribute at the end, way sometimes overdone in early form of shaping legends that depart from true telling of who it is one was; the way people come home, to make time in death for another who they […]

        Wind blew from the south as story told, but it blew of a change different than heat, drawn to cold and storm in north.  Anna felt that too, the subtlety, and a coolness instead of burden on summer wind; sky clouded in broken pattern of clouds in wave on wave; bright of their […]

        “Do you mind when new stories write nearly the same to old?” he asked.         Anna smiled, laughing light as spirit made and shone same of the question.  “Why should I mind?” Anna answered back with question.  “They’re your stories, your thoughts.  You’re the one that puts them down.  If the thought is there […]

               In morning wake, rising sun, the romance was returned; not in words but gentled giftings that stirred and raised her from her dreams; down-draw of the sheet that covered her, warm; cool of the morning air, telling too in dew, across her body, bared; cup of his hold to high of her breasts, mouth’s […]

               “I don’t have a story, romance or words tonight,” he spoke.  “I’m tired.”                “That’s alright,” Anna affirmed.  “You’re allowed to be tired.  You don’t have to always keep pressing believing something is expected or required of you.  You’re allowed to be human. You’re allowed to be real—just you as you are…I still love […]

        Rain was brief.  It came and went and left behind a humid in the sky.  Night songs of the summer restored again to full and clear of their cadence and tones.  He listened still, feeling the humid-heavy of the air, finishing cigar in place of rest, and when it finished, he rose.       […]