Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers

Nocturne

Posted on July 18, 2018 by Jan Morrill

Last night, outside my bedroom window the rain serenaded a pitter patter lullaby to wash the day away while I waited for gutter music my favorite nocturne when raindrops slide down, down, down the roof like children on a playground … Continue reading →

Posted in fictioneers, Flash Fiction, nostalgia | Tagged , , , , | 33 Comments

Caged Bird

Posted on July 11, 2018 by Jan Morrill

Drats! Mother told me to remove the wheels before locking the cage, my sanctuary from the crime scene of a world where fellow zombies threaten to eat anyone who’s different. Did I listen? Noooo. But, I’m not like the rest … Continue reading →

Posted in fictioneers, Flash Fiction | Tagged , , , , , | 46 Comments

Writer’s Block

Posted on June 27, 2018 by Jan Morrill

writer’s block noun a usually temporary condition in which a writer finds it impossible to proceed with writing a story, novel, play, etc. I’ve experienced the miserable frozen stare at a blank screen, the write and re-write of the same … Continue reading →

Posted in Flash Fiction, writing | Tagged , , , | 43 Comments

Orchestra

Posted on June 20, 2018 by Jan Morrill

Last night the boy dreamed of two boats. One arrived filled with hot dogs and ice cream and even boxes and boxes of Tootsie Roll Pops—his favorite. The other boat arrived with toys he’d seen on TV – Xboxes, Legos, … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 34 Comments

Hunting Season

Posted on June 13, 2018 by Jan Morrill

We watch each other in this sanctuary, this quail and I, prisoners of lives into which we were born. The bird is free to fly away, to go where he pleases. But he has surely heard the gun fire, watched … Continue reading →

Posted in fictioneers, Flash Fiction | Tagged , , , , | 34 Comments