©2011-2012 Robin Hawke
All Rights Reserved
This blog? Where stories count:
I share short-short stories on this blog: Three sentence stories and flash fiction in response to writing challenges.
Was it the cat’s sudden snore or a moving sliver of moonlight? Lyla woke with a start. If the curtains opened, she might have seen the meteor shower before her eyelids drifted down.
A remarkable woman convalesced. Mid-sentence, her breath left her body before her last thought formed. Poor dear lady, poor attendees, all robbed of a quotable moral.
It’s time. It’s time to put away the old and freshen expectations. A new year, a new story.
Married five months before the knives came out. A cradle wedding, a coffin divorce. The news anchor reported she was buried in bridal finery.
The daily grind ended with a cup of coffee. Too many haphazard events (demands) kept the writer from a promise to herself. A clean stream of life beckoned if heavens would pour and drown the cobbles.
Phyllis bred feelings of good will. It was her honor. Until one afternoon, when charm fled and plastic smiles remained, then she asked for a raise not forthcoming.
Enraged, beaten, Bethany withdrew a sum of money. Now who would keep it? Stocks wore flimsier dressing than a mattress.
