flash fiction

Flash fiction has its place, though there are critics who insist, with justification, that character, theme, and any number of literary necessities cannot be achieved in 500, 1000, or 2000 words.  I wrote several flash fictions in an attempt to win a crocheted teddy bear and was quite fortunate to have done so.  When the opportunity came up to create short videos in my favorite metaverse; i had something ready to go.

novels

On the patio deck.

The urge to write a novel is growing stronger every day. Yes, I know. I have two or three incomplete novels somewhere in my files and I should finish those before I start something new. But those are genre fiction and this is serious. The framework of the story incubating inside my consciousness is how computers changed my life.

Visitors to the property ask if the barn is filled with arts. I have to explain that, no, our dad’s name was Art and the barn is dedicated to him. It is impossible to articulate the artistry of Art. He was a wonderful person and he was a storyteller, and so am I.

poetry for a change

FRAGILE BIRD

Still wearing those french cut jeans,
Still keeping my hair perfumed and glossy
Gold; silver earrings fall against my jaw, I move in shadowed time
And live for those seconds of tension.
The young ones stand before me and sway
And to me they are as alike as cattails,
Heavy and cylindrical on their stalks.
This is my private swamp.
They have no right to be here.

Eating their cones,
They start and grin, and we begin
The dance.
I feign disdain.
They forget their ice cream.
It runs in rivulets between
Their hot fingers.

I have three yards of grace.
I am pushing…whatever age…
Their faces go blank.
They shrug. Nothing is lost.
They lick up the sweet syrup,
And I go on.
I am a fragile bird flapping and flapping
Forever caught in midair between
The door and the place of peaches and vanilla
And other flavors.