Archive for the Tag 'choices'

Shadows in Glass

He fought cancer all alone and won the battle, at the tender age of twenty-one. He never knew who his real father was, and refused to bond with the string of husbands he watched his mother marry and divorce. He did a five year stint in Leavenworth Penitentiary, for a crime that he swears he [...]

Filed in In Dreams, short stories No Responses yet

Into the Storm

She stood in the doorway of the veranda, the moon shining through the branches, casting eerie shadows over the lawn. She watched as he pulled out of the circular drive, his taillights disappearing into the night; remembering his last words, wondering if she’d ever see him again, knowing full well she didn’t want to live [...]

Filed in In Dreams, short stories No Responses yet

She wonders why

It starts the same every time. She has a story she wants to share, and being her friend and loving her like I do, I’m there for her and more than happy to listen; though it’s the same worn out tale she’s been weaving for almost a year now and always ends in a river [...]

Filed in prose, rants, short stories No Responses yet

The Visit

He could see how tired she was, that day he happened upon her alone in the café; and though he purposely took his thoughts elsewhere, ignoring her completely, he knew from her body language that he’d once known so well, there was something amiss; and he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in [...]

Filed in miscellany No Responses yet

Death of a blog and one final thought

I, Jill Terry, being of not-so-sound mind of late and overall healthy body, do hereby bequeath the following; Three years worth of writing; my blood, tears and toil, from the depths of my soul; to anyone who cares to delve through these pages and take from my words what you will.
In my darkest days when [...]

Filed in prose Comments Off

mindless rambling

He was a nasty slob; my immediate thought, superiority complex; drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup; too cheap to shell out six bucks at Bucks, so he drank gas station rot gut, bought on the fly. Cell phone to his ear, held by fat stubby fingers; obviously berating someone by his facial expressions and the [...]

Filed in prose No Responses yet