Believe Everything you Read: Friday Fictioneers

“Have you seen my pills?” “They’re on the desk.” Dorothy said pointing. “Where on the desk?” “There beside the things!” “What things?” “The things I tidied up, in the corner.  Don’t make a mess.” Cecil ambled over, feeling around with his thin wrinkled hands.  At 92 he was slower than Dorothy, but as sharp as…

Read More

Twilight: A Poem

The golden hour, coffee in hand Gentle waves shift the sand Twilight flows, the glare it mellows the lines on her face and the leaves in yellows Sun dips down over the hill Her hands at rest, her heart is still Peace is here 44 words, by chance. I’ve missed the last two Friday Fictioneers,…

Read More