Posted in Photo

It Was Eventful, Pt 1

I’m not sure how I’ve let 10 days go by without writing but somehow it happened. I guess I’ve been busy. I have back to back trips this week, I was camping over the weekend and now I have just a little bit of downtime before going to California.

To try and make up for my lack of content here are some pictures from the camping trip this weekend.

Posted in friday fictioneers

No Business for Friends

Words blurred in and out of Delia’s focus. She slammed the book into her lap and glared towards the younger woman bound by ropes in the backseat.

“See, this is our problem. You never shut up.”

The woman blinked as the statement hit her but the gag prevented her from responding.

“Even now I can just hear you whining.”

The woman stared towards the slouching fabric above her despondently.

“I thought we were friends.” Delia mocked. “You know you can’t have friends in this business.”

The woman sighed.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow I’ll pretend I never knew your name.”

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Word Count: 100
For the always fascinating
Friday Fictioneers, click the link and blue frog to read more.
I realize this is a beach and not a pier that you drop bodies off but you know … artistic liberties.

Posted in Word Prompt

What Secrets This Lake Keeps

What secrets this lake keeps
When the dark nights rain
And it’s just humid enough
For the lake to stain
With the ghost of clouds
That couldn’t quite take flight.
There’s a story here
Only unfolding in those nights.
Billy lives in that mansion across the way.
Him, his mistress and a perfect family.
He shines the spotlight over the lake
When the fogs settle in thick.
Billy claims it’s for the speedsters,
Whipping in and out,
Keeps them quick.
But I know the truth,
Of Billy and the lake
And the girl he vowed to take
As his first, his wife.
His heart and soul she was.
Until one day sweet Billy found her
Facedown in the red mud;
Gunshot wounds
To the back and head.
The gun was his
And sweet Billy was no saint.
Scared, he hid
Her body at the bottom of the lake.
Now he shines his spotlight,
When the fogs coat the waters thick
To keep the specter of his love
From spilling his secrets like oil slicks.


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