| Silver (DRAFT)
| | Everywhere she looked she saw silver. Silver on the dashboard, silver across the pillow, silver... | | Flash Fiction | | Updated: | 26-01-08 |
| Words: | 147 | | Comments: | 7 | | Status: | Public |
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| Voodoo (Wee Challenge #24)
| | John held his breath as he opened the box of needles. He placed one in the machine and wound a red... | | Words: | 180 | | Comments: | 5 | | Status: | Public |
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| Tempest
| | The wind is the only one with a temper worse than my own. It whips through the foyer, leaving a... | | Words: | 462 | | Comments: | 11 | | Status: | Public |
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| Dead Lucky (Wee Stories #20)
| | Grinning, the hostess churned the cloud of plastic balls. Kay watched the television screen,... | | Words: | 100 | | Comments: | 8 | | Status: | Public |
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| Head of Elk
| | His expression was as blank as that of the head of elk that hung above him, the empty look of the... | | Words: | 103 | | Comments: | 4 | | Status: | Public |
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| The Poisoned Chalice
| | She couldn't take him seriously, not even when he held a knife to her throat. There was something... | | Words: | 102 | | Comments: | 0 | | Status: | Public |
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| The Royal Oak
| | He rested his chin dreamily in his right hand, stirring his herbal tonic with the left.... | | Words: | 102 | | Comments: | 1 | | Status: | Public |
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| A Little Piece of Chalk
| | The photo was all wrong, thought Richardson. It didn't look like that at all. It was if it had... | | Words: | 105 | | Comments: | 0 | | Status: | Public |
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| Island (Wee Stories #19)
| | Thomas recalled his father as he unwrapped the bongo from its blanket. He too had been a Drum... | | Words: | 78 | | Comments: | 7 | | Status: | Public |
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| Odd (Wee Stories #19)
| | It had begun so innocently for John and Marie. The girl held a sign: Please Help. She didn't say... | | Words: | 76 | | Comments: | 3 | | Status: | Public |
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| The Afghan (Wee Challenge #18)
| | The curtains in Father William's study were yellow. It was a cheery yellow, the color of butter or... | | Words: | 198 | | Comments: | 7 | | Status: | Public |
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| Cold Shoulder (Wee Stories #13)
| | The bus smelled like tar and spoiled milk. He was holding his breath when he first saw her. She was... | | Words: | 62 | | Comments: | 10 | | Status: | Public |
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| Before Your Time (Wee Stories #12)
| | In the days before plastic, all the buildings were made of glass. They called it the Prism City, and... | | Words: | 150 | | Comments: | 12 | | Status: | Public |
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| It's Magic (Wee Stories #11)
| | He is telling a story, but it is not his story; it is my story. He stands on the porch like it is... | | Words: | 59 | | Comments: | 4 | | Status: | Public |
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| Message (draft)
| | Liza wants to be obsessedâ?¦ with something. She thinks about the dirt on the soles of peopleâ??s feet, how itâ??s always being walked upon. Millions and millions of people, grinding the granules... | | Words: | 561 | | Comments: | 4 | | Status: | Reader |
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