Flash Fiction

The Breakwater

She sat on the breakwater and hoped the sound of the waves would soothe her. His words hadn’t. “In between the clover and the dampened earth.” That’s how the minister described it. Sounded poetic. Nicer than “here’s where we buried her body.” But that was reality. Ma was dead. And no pretty words were going… Continue reading The Breakwater

Haiku & Other Poetry

harvest

commemoration? or hidden treasure buried? the harvest lays bare This week's Friday Fictioners photo prompt (courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff) brought to mind all sorts of dark thoughts, which made me wonder--why are my thoughts so darn dark? It doesn't have to be a murdered girl's gravesite. It could something completely innocent. Even something fun! So after battling… Continue reading harvest