Tag Archives: fiction

fiction friday 5: roses are blue.

fiction friday 5. ∼ Fifth installment of…   [Previous: Blue 1 – Blue 2 – Blue 3 – Blue 4] Picking up where we left off… “Do you want to talk yet?” Des asked. “Talk about what?” Kate questioned him as if … Continue reading

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fiction friday 4: roses are blue.

fiction friday: four.  ∼ Fourth installment of… [I know it’s corny but it works. Trust me.]   [Parts 1, 2, 3: Blue 1 – Blue 2 – Blue 3]    Two weeks earlier… Kate kicked her old swing and watched it … Continue reading

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fiction friday 3: roses are blue.

fiction friday: three. ∼ Third installment of a work I swear will get a title (maybe even one of the dozens I trashed). Installments One + Two are here: fiction friday: one. + fiction friday: two. Present Day… Tears in her eyes, Kate stared out the cab’s window. … Continue reading

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fiction friday 2: roses are blue.

fiction friday: two. ∼ This is the second installment (of a work not-yet-titled) ∼ First, read the first — fiction friday: one. Twenty Years Ago… “Mommy!” she ran inside through the sliding door and crashed into her mother’s hip. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Sara wrapped … Continue reading

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fiction friday 1: roses are blue

I have been wanting to do this since my very first blog post. And now… I’m finally going to do it. I am. I swear I really am. I think I was scared I’d be making promises I couldn’t keep. … Continue reading

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I wanted you to kiss me.

Hello love… The day we met, I wanted you to kiss me. And for days after that perfect night, I could not stop thinking about kissing you – imagining it, wishing for it, dying to have it. I could think … Continue reading

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one hundred words.

God, I am such a sentimental sap!  Her shoulders rose and fell with her sigh. She knew he was there. She could feel his heart pounding the whole time. Holding his breath, he stared as she slowly turned around. His hand … Continue reading

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secret admirer.

I don’t wear my wedding rings at the gym. For practical purposes. It never occurred to me that anyone was paying attention to my hands… looking for a ring… or looking for not-a-ring. Inevitably, dragging my tired ass into that … Continue reading

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