Posts Tagged ‘trifecta’


In Fiction, Travel on March 24, 2014 at 11:27 am


Glittering azure
Crystal-cool and comfortable
Bright fish swimming
Scales tickled with light

And below

Caverns, endless
Blue to green to inky black
Pressure and darkness

Nameless mystery
Crushing truth

Dive Read the rest of this entry »


Far Beneath

In Fiction on December 6, 2013 at 5:21 pm


Far Beneath

Sunlight strikes the basin and reflections dazzle.
Shining waves are chasing as I slowly paddle.

I pull the oars, myopic, intent upon the beach,
while depths of wondrous mysteries lumber


far beneath.

This short poem is my response to this week’s Trifextra challenge, which was to add 30 words to these three: Myopic, Dazzle and Basin.

Let me know what you think in the comments below, and check out the rest of this week’s stories!

Knock, Knock, Knock

In Fiction on November 22, 2013 at 9:55 am


Knock, Knock, Knock

You knock, your heart a nervous bird, flapping. A chill wind sighs.

You knock. What sound is that? Claws scrabbling. Whispers.

It’s been years…

You knock, and the door swings wide—to warmth.

This is my short response to this week’s Trifextra challenge – where we were given the freedom to choose our own word to use three times in a 33-word story. If it’s not clear enough, the word I chose was knock.

Let me know what you think and check out some of the other stories over at Trifecta. They’re short, so they won’t take long!

Happy weekend!

Through Time

In Fiction on September 20, 2013 at 1:55 pm


Through Time











fall Read the rest of this entry »

Operation Charnwood

In Fiction on July 8, 2013 at 5:19 pm

British soldier at Caen

Operation Charnwood

The young man led me by the arm through the rubble, helping me over fallen walls and crushed motorcars. I could have made the way myself, but the bombs had rendered the place unrecognizable.

“The historic district is mostly gone, I’m afraid,” the soldier explained as we walked. The corners of his mouth went up a bit, with pride for the might of the Allies, I suppose.

“The rest of the city held more for me,” I said. “But that’s gone now, too.”

The soldier nodded, and the shadow of his smile faded.

I had lived my entire life in Caen. I had scraped my knees on the schoolhouse cobbles as a child; stolen kisses (and more) behind my mother’s patisserie; there was a wall—or there had been—where my first husband and I had been photographed by the elder Lumière himself. But even the photo was gone now, under the pile of stone and glass that had been my home. The city was a graveyard, and my whole world lay beneath its stones. Read the rest of this entry »


In Fiction on June 14, 2013 at 1:57 pm

orange sunlight



is the artifice of adulthood.

We are industrious

in our pursuit of complication—

of noble strife.

Promotions, office drama, coffee preferences,

scraping cents.

But summer

is the soul’s breath.


Earth. Read the rest of this entry »

On Damāvand

In Fiction on May 31, 2013 at 12:21 pm


On Damāvand

We sit on sleeping fire, on Damāvand, where the dragon Dahāg writhes in his bonds.

We see our city, older than myth, and its transient seething.

The hill shakes; our hearts are inflamed.

This is my response to the weekend Trifextra challenge, from the friendly folks over at the Trifecta Writing Challenge. The prompt this week is the picture up above, provided by mohammadali on Flickr.

The photo is of Tehran in Iran, and my story draws on some old Persian myths. Check out this wikipedia entry if you’d like to know more.

Happy weekend!

Dear Characters: A Confession

In Fiction on May 24, 2013 at 1:16 pm


Dear Characters: A Confession

I’m going to kill you. Please don’t fight it.

After all, you either die on the page, on your own terms, or you die when they close the book. Which is worse?

A quick 33 words for the weekend Trifextra challenge. Head on over and read the rest of the entries (it won’t take you long)!

Happy Friday!