. I had sworn I wouldn’t do it again. Not that I don’t enjoy the writing challenge, but last time I participated (or at least tried to), I thought I had the whole weekend to complete the task. I hadn’t read the small characters, and it ended up being a 24 hours challenge, and I…… Continue reading Call me stubborn…
. Mahul was running as fast as he could, among the panicking crowd. Helplessness was as thick as the mysterious fog that was invading the poor neighbourhoods. Around him, people screamed and cried, some of them falling to the ground like flies. The young man wished he could stop to help, but he was already…… Continue reading December 3rd, 1984…
The pistol’s muzzle poked at the nap of his neck, repeatedly. KEEP TYPING, ASSHOLE! Each time he hit one of his vintage typewriting’s keys, his seven broken fingers made him wish he was dead already. Had he known that a complete stranger would break into his house and torture him for hours, he would…… Continue reading Final act…
Andromeda held the fragile creature crying in her arms. She was as perplex as her circuits would let her. Why wouldn’t Doctor Fester just download all the information to take care of human offsprings? The decibel level had peaked, and Andromeda knew she had to find how to stop the tears. She had already…… Continue reading Tantrum…
Remind me why we’re doing this? Alex was nervous, sitting on the side of the canal, a good six feet apart from his bestfriend. The pandemic is over now, Alex… You really need to get over it. You can do it, Tiger! To prove his willingness, he pulled his mask down. You’re right. He…… Continue reading Letting go…
Her pen was waltzing on the paper, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She tried to focus, but the butterfly flutters just wouldn’t let her. She just wished he could be there, sitting next to her, sipping on his coffee. Of course it was new, but she really felt he was her soulmate. Silly? Maybe……… Continue reading Love note…
Sitting in the large armchair, he leaned forward to run his knotty fingers in the golden retriever’s fur. At first, the puppy didn’t react, deep asleep in the semi darkness. Another gentle stroke, waking the furry fellow. As he gave the next pat, the dog’s hairs started raising along its spine. He could…… Continue reading Evening pats…
Cibelle wandered, barefooted among the bushes. Around her, the inviting fruit were making the fragile branches bend, but for some reason she was torn at the idea of harvesting the precious loot. The winter had been harsh, and she wanted to believe that the early offering was a reward. She brushed the…… Continue reading Early harvest…
Her high heels clattered on the floor, as she walked to the counter, and picked the bottle of Château Lafite. You’re lucky, John… I don’t like to hold grudges. It messes with my sleep. He still wondered why she hadn’t sent one of her hitmen to gut him out. She usually wasn’t on…… Continue reading Grudges…
This will be short… As you might know already, I am preparing a story for my NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge. If you didn’t know, you can catch up here. Good news, I finally managed to start writing, and I am about halfway through. I am a bit rusted, and I’d like to know if…… Continue reading Anyone interested?
Cyranny's Cove 