New book, The Gecko in the Bathtub: Encounters with Marvelous Creatures, available now!
These Little Bits of Fiction are super-short stories, all of them written in 30 minutes or less. In the writing groups that I lead, and in which I’ve been a participant, we write in very brief intervals so as to leave time to share our writing with each other and give positive feedback. Outside of my writing groups I often find a prompt, set my own timer to 20 minutes, and then write whatever comes to mind as a way to keep sharpening my skills. Enjoy!
Clotilde blew out her birthday candles, barely able to contain her excitement and anticipation. This being her 5th birthday she was now on the very cusp of initiation, and, there not being a wrapped gift anywhere in sight, she could only assume that her moment would come sometime shortly after cake and ice cream were…
I’m a board-certified nutritionist with a focus in child nutrition, plus I’m trained in organic farming, ayurvedic practices, flower medicine and homemade tinctures. I’ve come at her daily diet from every one of those directions and more, and still she won’t eat anything but yogurt and macaroni and cheese.”
The sand on which he walked was rough, gravelly, even. It wasn’t powdery soft and luscious like the sand he imagined he might find on Boracay Island in the Philippines, or in Tahiti, or even in Akumal on the east coast of Mexico, sand that sea turtles found so compelling they couldn’t resist the pull…
Although royals were considered much too important to engage in such activities as pearl-diving or spear-fishing, there was nothing Dorian loved more than being in the water, where there were no voices of authority berating him or telling him all the things at which he was terrible. So, on the day when Dorian was swept out to sea he didn’t especially fear for his life, even though the water was bitterly cold and the currents were of a severity he’d never before encountered.
Look for my light, the light that isn’t truly mine, yet you wouldn’t see it if I weren’t here. Look for it when you least expect it. Look for it in a sliver or behind a cloud or in a breathtakingly, awesomely titanic globe emerging from the horizon. Just as my light is light reflected from another, your comings and goings, your rhythms, both external and internal, and yes, even your thoughts and dreams are, ultimately, reflections of me.
Furiously paddling in the water with feet that were nearly bigger than its body, the baby Common Murre, a common sea duck along the coast of Portugal, was out there, two full miles off shore, all by itself, no parents in sight, although adult murres were speeding past overhead every few seconds, to and from the offshore cliffs that held colonies of thousands.
From that day the girl grew up in the King’s castle, to be a toddler, a child, a little girl, a teenager, a woman, a wise crone. The King was good to the villagers and they were happy to be his subjects. The toddler – girl – woman – wise crone sang, heartily and often, strains of her voice floating down the valley when the wind was just right, so the people could enjoy her music, even though she lived up the hill in the King’s castle.
On the days when she had to take the subway across town she made it a point to take in an especially deep breath of fresh air before descending the longest escalator in the world (she mused) into the depths of earth, where the air was dank and the subways were depressing. But gratitude for her good fortune kept her mind afloat even when the claustrophobia that she was born with threatened to close the walls of the subway tunnels around her.
She rolled the seed-heads of the bunch grass between her palms, releasing the seeds from their shelled enclosures, the safety of encapsulation given by their mother’s womb. This was her favorite time of year, when the grass heads came to seed and she could spend hours at a time releasing them into the fertile winds…
By now Burt had gone downstairs to the kitchen, using every prayer he knew to maintain his composure as the voice followed him from his room into the hallway, down the stairs and to his seat at the head of the kitchen table with a hot cup of his favorite cinnamon tea.
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