Because Happiness Decoded, Poetic Therapy, & Samra inspired me — Voice. Of the many attributes of literature, Voice is one I constantly consider and try to employ. (As I wrote the prior sentence, I just realized that, coincidentally, I am a Voice Over Artist. That’s a funny one!) For this first in a series called Written To Inspire, I would…

Her mama had her dreams in that big bed they shared together — She watched him — his face, up close — and said, through the space in the fence boards, “We need spoons.” There was a young boy walking, at the end of the fifty-foot fence just come around the corner, and when the boy trailed the stick along the boards, the…

August Six Word Photo Story Challenge: “Toys” — Two Guys Hangin’ in the Night When a toy isn’t a toy anymore, what is it? Most times, it becomes a friend. Sometimes an object of wrath. Often, it turns into a character in your stories. But when they reach their EOL, or End of Life, they become trash to be taken out. A billet for…

It’s About Death, But is so Life-Affirming. —

Under the Wire, But a Solid Showing Nonetheless, IMO — Can’t Win If You Don’t Submit, Can You? I missed the deadline for a Vocal. Media challenge I thought was ending yesterday. But it caused me to discover I could submit multiple stories to the Fiction Challenge. 25, $5000 winners. Not something to snooze at. …

Innocent of Guilt, Guilty of Innocence — The Ascension of Raul Martinez Small dark hands wring blood from a white worn handkerchief now stained red. Tears drop into the mix as he almost blindly looks to the outer door, expecting it to burst its hinges, the wood splintering from the force of Justice come to claim him. Through his tears, the tulip…

Sometimes when I awaken, I’m eleven years old again. — The Mexico of My Father’s Body When I was young, I remember my father once believed that my mother did not believe his name was Stewart. He had become obsessed with the notion that she had constructed another life for him that she believed he hid from her. He set about to prove that he was…

When Elvis Winked At Me — When we hit the rise just before the railroad tracks, she must’ve been doing about fifty miles an hour in a twenty-five mph zone, somewhere near the Overton Park Zoo in Memphis. We were airborne over the tracks. Sometime between the time I was three and forty-three, my mother acquired…

Can You Identify All The Levels This Photo Is Working On? —