The Wedding Guests

OK after banging out a quick story and posting it, I deleted it and banged out another quick story….I missed the mark with the first one.  Hopefully this is a little better…



The morning after a bad decision they stared out the window of the White Birch Cafe.  Billy poured sugar into his coffee mug until the pile was several inches high.  Janis covered her eggs in salt.  Unable to make eye contact they both diverted their eyes from each other’s gaze.  The silence broke by the sound of Billy’s spoon hitting the side of his mug.  Janis finally looked at him.

“You know I am not normally like that” she whispered.

“It’s Ok” his voice trailing off.

“You don’t sound OK”.

“You had to say Good luck?  You couldn’t congratulate them?”



The Twenty Second Poem

When I write
I write freely
You can hate the “ly” all you want but it’s the truth
Knobby and rough around the edges
My cock is the least of your worries, your worries are something I pushed aside a long time ago
I have all ways had a higher calling, because my Grandma told me so
And if they tell you that, at a young age, over and over again
You never give it up
So when I do things I do them freely
L-Y and all
I push out my thoughts like a PEZ dispenser
Cheap< Candy The stuff of childhood dreaming

The Great Beast

This photo prompt brought to you by Madison Woods

The driver watched the passengers board, taking notice of their differences and their similarities.  She said “hi” to Tom, “aloha” to Doug.  She leaned over the wheel and waited for them to get seated.  She made sure they were comfortable before she put the great beast in gear.  It was the end of the week and this would be her last trip.  She was finally retiring.  With shaking hands she reached for the microphone, wiped away tears and turned on the PA system.  Madison made her announcement “This blog will be stopping at Rochelle and Wisoff.   I’ll miss you guys”.

The Ugly Eskimo

Here is this weeks photo prompt from Madison Woods.



All that was before Kaya was white.  His eyes forced closed by the sun’s reflection made him go deeper into his mind. On the back wall of his thoughts childhood memories flicker like old film.   He thought of summers and winters past, the warmth of the sun on his skin and the blinding light.  There in the alleyway far from home the early morning vacation cocktails pressed hard against his tight waistband.   Kaya leaned against the wall with one hand, pulled it out with the other and wrote his name on the white wall because he couldn’t find any snow.


You have a touch of me baby
Hard to call you that
When you are the oldest
When you were the one
All my dreams
All my hopes
Rest on

I stood there
Outside tonight
After I wrestled
The used
New couch
The Castro
Shifting from foot to foot

And I thought how far
I had come
Cause when I think of you
My head starts to swirl
And you said
For the first time
Mom says it takes money and that’s a problem

I didn’t get far at all
Unless you count steps back
Your superhero
That’s why you told me
It mattered
So I decided
Mom was right

I didn’t tell you
That’s why you told me
You said
You wanted me to speak to her
But we both knew
You were asking me
To make it right

You have a touch of me baby
I minimized the screen
When you walked by
And we both said goodnight
I love you
See you in the morning

The Party


Here is this weeks photo prompt from Madison Woods.

fiction, short reads, free reads, fresh fiction, kitchen scene

In spite of the flowers and the party she left him. The three day old coffee grinds had dried out and were growing mold. Emptiness deflated what little morning spirit he had, the reality of being alone consumed him. One Hand on the cold granite shaking he reached for the sugar, filters and the bag of coffee. The bowl of sugar slipped. The sweet morning solitude shattered by divorce left him bleeding on his knees cleaning up a mess. Not a soul to startle other than his own, he changed the setting to two cups. It was more than enough.