Loneliness
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Last month’s editorial page lay rumpled on my floor. Its letters graying and damp-wrinkled, edges curling upward. Broken shells that once held sunflower seeds piled in one corner and a plastic mirror with a silenced bell in the other. How that bell drove me crazy with its incessant, cheap-metal jingle! In retrospect, it wasn’t really
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It’s Fandango’s Flashback Friday! This story was written back in 2016, I believe. Hope you enjoy! The wind howled outside his hovel as Kerwyn Argyle ladled the last of the pungent stew into his bowl. It was going bad, but the thick glop warmed his innards nicely that December evening. It was a thankless job, being the cemetery’s
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The Naani form is a four-line poem that has 20-25 syllables. The first two lines provide the subject that the next two bring to an interesting close. Memories of the lifeWe should’ve sharedLive happily ever afterIn my mind’s eye.
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The Daily Post Delores had more dead friends than live ones. How unfair life is, she thought. You get close to someone and then they die. What was the point? Was there one? And the worst part, the saddest most baffling thing of all, was how nobody seemed to notice. A person loses someone
Ergo, the Ogre 