We saw no one for hours, until we did, or thought we did.
Then she returned to Atlanta as one returns home after the smoldering fires, having nothing left to burn, have smothered themselves and the only choice is to rebuild.
She almost left when she saw him.
It’s still possible a squirrel will take me in another direction, but for now I may as well give this idea some light.
No, I have not written a novel. Well, once, but it was miserable and I never want to do it again.
Herman had always been captivated by birds, but never before to the point he lost his tour group.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog link-up based on a photo prompt. The Challenge – write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle, and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.) The Key – make every word count. Up to the challenge? Join in! In the first days after our plane…
An 80-hour week followed a 60-hour week which followed a 50-hour week – all a result of nine months of dedicated preparation. We ate, drank, and slept grant applications – with all the coffee, snacks, and bad jokes we needed to keep up with the frenzied pace of finalizing the eight projects. Being ahead of…