Robin Hawke


Garden
February 29, 2012, 4:05 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Melissa collected bones. She tossed deer femurs, raccoon teeth, and possum skulls around the back yard. In the winter, when her garden dried brown, it looked like the set of a spaghetti western.



Stars and Stripes
February 28, 2012, 5:36 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Jet trails stripe the sky.  The evening sky, dotted with stars, settles. Somewhere, up there, there’s a flag and a pair of pliers.



Byway
February 27, 2012, 1:24 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The father fell asleep. His eyes closed, pupils stilled.  What woke him—the grass beneath his tires or the screams of his children?



Quotation
February 26, 2012, 2:37 PM
Filed under: Quotations | Tags:

If the communication is perfect, the words have life, and that is all there is to good writing, putting down on the paper words which dance and weep and make love and fight and kiss and perform miracles.
―Gertrude Stein



Kisses
February 26, 2012, 2:16 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

There is a kiss in the morning. There is a kiss when work goes well. Reserved kisses, they eschew hope and satisfaction for delight and praise.



A Noisy Day
February 25, 2012, 2:39 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Deer bed in the thicket. Gusts bang shutters and the screen door. Quarrelsome chimes collide through lulls.



Note
February 24, 2012, 2:32 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: , ,

The writing on the note was plain, a jumble of capitals and lower case. The paper was perforated, a jumble of lines and holes. The ink was smeared. And I read the words of a liar. I tried correlating them to experiences and memories without success. Staring at the truncated crossings of letters t and f, the open loops of letters g and p, I noticed the haste in the letters I, I, I, the fear I would interrupt him in the gaunt y, o, u. In my search for shreds of content, meaning disintegrated into picked bones on stone.

Friday Fictioneers

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Scavengers
February 24, 2012, 2:02 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

They followed the creek, jumping to stay on the deer path and avoiding thorns with squats and sidelong steps. Their discussion turned on gold, gold mining, gold value, gold remaining, possible gold panning, golden glints and golden hair and the magic of gold. William jumped into the creek with a cry of discovery, “Watercress—there’s watercress!”



Seasonal
February 23, 2012, 1:42 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Jenna’s skirt was full, a throwback to poodle fifties. Her bare feet talked with spring mud; it swirled. She jived with the change of clothes.



Blooms
February 22, 2012, 7:38 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges

jonquils melt in snow

summer yellow on soft serve

sweet crowns tip off warmth

Visit DIY Romance prompt...



Envy
February 22, 2012, 6:54 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Our commute took us through the winding neighborhoods of rich Atlanta, past columns and white terraces, over hills remarkable for a Versailles of azaleas, and by the gracious facades of elegant living. Envy seeped through our veins with every view of manicured lawns. Jerks and throttles later, we exchanged our commute for one that didn’t flower discontent.



Green Ink
February 21, 2012, 5:35 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Allie wrote with permanent green ink. She used the pen like a brush, opening and closing letters in lyric style. Before we became friends, I trumpeted my desire with the purchase of peacock blue ink.



Tea Rose
February 20, 2012, 7:47 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

I hate secrets that peek above the sheets: adultery hidden in the tale about dry cleaning; concealing an unwanted pregnancy with the admission of poor grades; accounts of junkets that encode financial information. The secrets hang in the air while the valiant storyteller sprays a surfeit of air freshener. And we all smooth things out with pinched nostrils.



Forgotten
February 19, 2012, 8:32 PM
Filed under: Uncategorized

The cheesecake cooled on top of the stove; the dishwasher hummed; the clothes in the dryer tumbled. An afternoon siesta began. Four egg whites, quite forgotten, nested in a bowl.



Shining
February 18, 2012, 1:38 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Our children watch us from the door of the refrigerator. Youth shines from wide, familiar eyes. Larger now, they deliver the bright opinions, politics and challenges of the dinner table.



A Species of Spiny Plants Belonging to the Daisy Family
February 17, 2012, 1:04 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Tamara was pushed, not with love, onto a cactus. A view of her back revealed hundreds of spines in succulent flesh. Her mother, the only one with enough love to pull each prickle from its tubercle, whispered, “One more, only one more.”



Measure
February 16, 2012, 3:23 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

I noticed your choice of literature and beans.

You checked my figure.

I measured my blessings.



Out of Work
February 15, 2012, 3:52 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Despite the sleep, a full night, Drew felt groggy. His words slurred; he stumbled. After breakfast, he stared at the watch on his wrist.



Discuss
February 14, 2012, 3:52 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Our discussion, between two highly-educated, well-read, aesthetically-trained, critically-expressive, scholarly-bent scholars, took its time to develop premises. It meandered through subjects of consideration and therefores. Our interjections delighted, but, over coffee, I wondered when we would arrive at the main course.



Fare Box
February 13, 2012, 2:20 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

On the day before February 14th, her thoughts twisted between ghosts and haunts. Instead of feeding on chocolates, Louise gorged on memories. The soul’s sustenance for the next day.



Clamor
February 12, 2012, 3:01 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Sounds of terror punctuated beating music. Screams penetrated walls. Computer animations paused several levels later.



The Bride
February 11, 2012, 3:54 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges, Love and Romance

The day of my wedding, mist settled and mud collected on my hem. My father held an umbrella for me. Taking his arm, I sensed the beginnings of a headache. Squeezing my eyes, I managed a smile and a kiss. I set one foot down after another. Dull pain increased with each step. Dismissing it, I let fear fold into the sheath that protected my nerves and waited for a cue.

Pain increased, localized. I rubbed my skull with a hand under the veil, trying not to disturb a hair concoction. Double doors opened. My dubious doll smile went ahead down the aisle. Music swirled. I gathered myself in that stately walk to the man I loved. If tiny velvet nubs sprouted from my head, no one noticed.

Then came that perfunctory pause. Our minister waited for reasons we should not join. I looked over the congregation. By now, everyone noticed the twin antlers growing. I thought I should speak. My mouth pursed, but words stilled.

We exchanged vows.

Each point of my horns dulled with each word of acceptance. A final pronouncement heard, music trumpeted. My new husband grabbed an elbow while I disguised hooves in the bouquet.

Visit DIY Romance prompt...



Walls
February 11, 2012, 2:14 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The bed became an island that moved around the room four or five times a year. With marriage came furniture. The whims of change lulled.



Coq au Vin
February 10, 2012, 3:45 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: , , ,

Choose firm, earthy-colored mushrooms. Discard those with spots or slimy gills. Brown everything in sizzling butter: floured chicken, pearl onions, mushrooms, some carrots, much garlic with a pinch of thyme. Be rash, use high heat to sear these flavors. My recipe departs from the traditional one—here—when everything caramelizes, gets crusty, pour wine in the pot. Submerge everything in wine. Add more. Open another bottle. Forget chicken stock; forget hoarding mushrooms until the last fifteen minutes of cooking; forget it all while there’s time to grab another romp through the woods. Let everything simmer while you stoke appetites.

Friday Fictioneers

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Limbo
February 10, 2012, 2:22 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Limbo visited when the rest of the world dismissed Sylvia’s plans. The only friend who bothered to impose while her house stayed on the market, Limbo pinched at her when she cried plain vanilla tears. The day Sylvia’s roof sprouted holes, limbo proved another temporary friend.



Distance
February 9, 2012, 3:02 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

It was a given. I would love you. We’d persevere but you turned at the first cramp in your side, or was it the tenth?



Music
February 8, 2012, 9:23 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags:

cascading anger
horn music in dirty snow
glass souls cross at lights

Haiku Heights #105, prompt music



Love Letter
February 8, 2012, 2:43 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: ,

I am missing, but not from your thoughts. Or yours from mine: I polish each of our dreams, impatient as ever to rub them into existence.

Today is one of those winter days when the sun can’t break the clouds. The sky glows like moonstone. It wouldn’t you know, if the sun went AWOL. Think of me; think of the sun. Clouds will scuttle off—break like eggshells; hot rays will wake bulbs in the ground; surrounding arms will banish those sad thoughts of yours. All I wait for is a strong wind to blow me home.

I keep, if missing, missing you.

Do not fold my jeans away. Do not fold my letters with tears.

Click to read entries...Inspiration Mondays prompts...



Beast
February 8, 2012, 1:42 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Lydia blamed the machine at the We-Haven’t-Remodeled-So-We’re-Still-Cheap grocery store. She asked for a little celebratory cheer—for the machine to honk with the abandon of Las Vegas slots. This machine substituted cruel silence before it waited for the punch of a finger pad, before it ate a dollar, and before it mumbled another losing lottery ticket.



Corpse
February 7, 2012, 1:58 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Softly, you turned around, sigh. Quietly, you closed the door, snick.  I laid in bed, languid remains, mmm.