Sarah Day 2 – Group B

Spores

Holding your new baby, you hurry through the night, away from the house, down to the bottom of the garden, to the old railway carriage. It's well past time to introduce him to your family. Late summer throbs from the purple buddleia. No one know how this freight...

Debts You Haven’t Paid

(Sorry--this is late, and really rough! From Prompt #4: Second person, shame. ) Debts You Haven’t Paid 1. The girl in first grade with the big glasses that took up half her face and one lens was smogged up or painted over because she had lazy eye and you asked her to...

The People Without Skin

Super rough! Too soon for actual critique, but any first thoughts welcome xo The People Without Skin The people without skin don’t know they are without skin. They don’t remember the molting, the day they ripped through their old lives. The people without skin just...

What Their Hands Did

At first all he could do was lie on their sofa fist-scrunching her brick-red wool blanket to his nose inhaling the lingering traces of her linden soap, the amber warmth of her body. He’d stare at the solemn gray of the idle television where most evenings they had...

Red, Rising, 1897

The poem/prose observation prompt, based on my memory of an old B&W I used to have (NOT 1879). Gaaaahhhhh, this was HARD! I am famous for my problems with this particular point of view. Trying to write something without sneaking in what someone is probably feeling...

Late Late Afternoon

Note: I wrestled with this one, following as best I could Prompt 4 (a character defined by action). Late Late Afternoon The child leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and the parlor, while her aunt hovered over the counter, holding potatoes up to the sun....

Spacewoman

Brandilynn sits on a bench at the mall, trying to decide what to do. She watches an astronaut sign autographs at a banquet table right next to Santa’s Winter Wonderland. A neon poster-board behind the astronaut, like the kind you find at PTA bake sales, invites people...

When Myrtle Turns 90

When Myrtle Turns 90 She pulls his houseslippers from the closet where she’d tucked them last year, slides them on, and scuffs down the hallway, closing her eyes just long enough to imagine it’s him, shuffling to the kitchen to do what he always did—coffee in bed for...

Spores

Holding your new baby, you hurry through the night, away from the house, down to the bottom of the garden, to the old railway carriage. It's well past time to introduce him to your family. Late summer throbs from the purple buddleia. No one know how this freight...

Debts You Haven’t Paid

(Sorry--this is late, and really rough! From Prompt #4: Second person, shame. ) Debts You Haven’t Paid 1. The girl in first grade with the big glasses that took up half her face and one lens was smogged up or painted over because she had lazy eye and you asked her to...

The People Without Skin

Super rough! Too soon for actual critique, but any first thoughts welcome xo The People Without Skin The people without skin don’t know they are without skin. They don’t remember the molting, the day they ripped through their old lives. The people without skin just...

What Their Hands Did

At first all he could do was lie on their sofa fist-scrunching her brick-red wool blanket to his nose inhaling the lingering traces of her linden soap, the amber warmth of her body. He’d stare at the solemn gray of the idle television where most evenings they had...

Red, Rising, 1897

The poem/prose observation prompt, based on my memory of an old B&W I used to have (NOT 1879). Gaaaahhhhh, this was HARD! I am famous for my problems with this particular point of view. Trying to write something without sneaking in what someone is probably feeling...

Late Late Afternoon

Note: I wrestled with this one, following as best I could Prompt 4 (a character defined by action). Late Late Afternoon The child leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and the parlor, while her aunt hovered over the counter, holding potatoes up to the sun....

Spacewoman

Brandilynn sits on a bench at the mall, trying to decide what to do. She watches an astronaut sign autographs at a banquet table right next to Santa’s Winter Wonderland. A neon poster-board behind the astronaut, like the kind you find at PTA bake sales, invites people...

When Myrtle Turns 90

When Myrtle Turns 90 She pulls his houseslippers from the closet where she’d tucked them last year, slides them on, and scuffs down the hallway, closing her eyes just long enough to imagine it’s him, shuffling to the kitchen to do what he always did—coffee in bed for...

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