My daughter, Gaia
MicroFiction in 48 words incorporating “earth”. Brought to you by an exhausted parent who is tired of cleaning glitter off everything.
MicroFiction in 48 words incorporating “earth”. Brought to you by an exhausted parent who is tired of cleaning glitter off everything.
December has always been a wonderful month for me, writing-wise and otherwise. It’s starting to look like this year won’t be any different. Some of you might remember a little… Read more »
She enjoys her coffee before the chaos. Soon it’s “Mom, I’m late for school! Mom, breakfast! Honey, my tie!” She’s a juggler, a whirling dervish, until the old tape recorder… Read more »
She takes hot showers despite the humidity. On the fogged mirror, her finger writes messages to him. When she opens the window, the vapor mingles with the air outside, like… Read more »
“Seven minutes, Mommy’s dying.” Jason repeated. Trisha shut the burner. “Honey, relax! You’ve named the Presidents thrice.” Jason pulled in a hose and sprayed her. In another universe, Trisha was… Read more »
The Micro-story-palooza continues! Yesterday’s prompt was “Love” (obviously!) Read on… And then she was born. Sonnets became lullabies, roses and chocolates gave way to diapers and bottles, long waits in… Read more »