"Can you tell a story just in dialogue?" "Well, of course, what kind of question is that?--- Aren't all stories a kind of dialogue?" "When you say it like that---" "Well, think of it: stories are meant to be told--- meant to be spoken. And if you have a storyteller--" "Yes. Yes. I see now. … Continue reading A Story in Dialogue
creative writing
Remembering Summer Sunshine
Great gulps of laughter roll across the yard. They crack among the croquet balls and mallets. Whoops punctuate successful strikes. The sun slips down across the brim of the hill and a nectarine light fills the valley--- all warmth and sweet citrus summertime. It casts the players' shadows long at their feet yet leaves their … Continue reading Remembering Summer Sunshine
Arguing With Myself in Bathrooms
I've been thinking about conversations lately. Maybe even arguments, you could say. I've always been the type of person who talking things out with people helps get my creative juices flowing. But have you ever had a heated discussion with someone that either excites you or (maybe) angers you so much you leave said person's … Continue reading Arguing With Myself in Bathrooms
Filling the Voids
I've been a distracted, undisciplined writer for half my life. Great chunks of years have disappeared into writing hiatus. Imagine it like a vast white space in the middle of a neatly typed page. A huge void. Those voids I have filled with silly things--- not my words, thoughts, or ideas. Not even the stories … Continue reading Filling the Voids
Exotic Milk
Where do you stand in a world looking only for exotic names, skins, and avatars? Where do you stand when you're just bland milk with a brain and thoughts that do not fit? It seems to me the world wants bland, uniform innards coated by a colorful shell. It doesn't want bland on the outside … Continue reading Exotic Milk
Conversation in a Bathroom
The bathroom is cold, the stalls cramped together. Heather hears the door bang open just as she finishes, and the walls to the stall shake as the newcomer slams herself into the toilet beside Heather’s. Heather frowns as she exits and moves toward the sink. Sniffles echo from the stall that the newcomer has taken. … Continue reading Conversation in a Bathroom
Conversation Outside a Funeral Parlor
Marie walks up the partially cleared sidewalk out front of the funeral home. It is already dark outside and the lights in the windows glow golden and inviting. She places her cane and tries to straighten her back for her sister’s sake— the one who has passed. A slow trickle of people step up from … Continue reading Conversation Outside a Funeral Parlor
Re-Entry
Wayne stands in line at the service desk of his local box store. He bounces from heel to toe as he waits and fidgets with his mask, then remembers he shouldn’t touch it and rests his hand at his side. The lone woman working the service desk chomps gum (perhaps thinking her mask hides it?) … Continue reading Re-Entry
Applause
All of a sudden, the gray skies open and lose their payload. Sheets of rain cascade past my windows and strum amidst the pebbles in my driveway. Their chorus floats back to me faintly through the closed window– a throaty song rather like a wide arena filled with applause. But who is it the rain … Continue reading Applause
Martian Boy
Robby unearths the small green stone from beneath a tough-packed hump of brown dirt in his backyard. When he brushes the mud from its uneven sides, it sparkles in the sun. “Alien stone,” he says, his eyes lighting up. He spends the afternoon cleaning the gem, wrapping it in wire, and suspending it from a … Continue reading Martian Boy
Seeking Prose 