More wars, or fewer? The same number, but less violent? Niven preferred to consider the music of the stars in the form of questions like these. What would it be like if everyone could hear it? Tonight’s symphony of rumbles and whistles seemed appropriate to battle.
This was no Roger Whittaker whistling. It was low and undulating, . . . → Read More: The Off Season #fridayflash
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Another from the Six Sentences Archive to finish off National Novel Writing Month. This was originally shared January of 2009. When your crouched in an aisle in the back of the poorly lit corner of the university library, surrounded by 2 years worth of the Journal of Pop Music, you’ll know. You’ll know because you will look . . . → Read More: How you’ll know. #fridayflash During National Novel Writing Month, I am highlighting a selection of my contributions to the 6 Sentences Social Network. This was originally posted in March of 2009. I notice the orange cones that mark a ladder sticking out of a manhole cover, and I look because I am the curious sort. A head and shoulders emerge, the eyes . . . → Read More: Some Folks. #fridayflash During National Novel Writing Month, I am highlighting a selection of my contributions to the 6 Sentences Social Network. This was originally posted in March of 2009. It was in response to a prompt from Anthony Venutolo It used to be a nice place Double shifting . . . → Read More: Fifteen Percent #fridayflash. During National Novel Writing Month, I am highlighting a selection of my contributions to the 6 Sentences Social Network. This was originally posted in May of 2009. The clouds rolled and churned in the sky, each revolution darker than the last, until the sun was gone entirely and the air grew heavy and damp. Little Charles was . . . → Read More: Weatherman #fridayflash I’ve been knee deep in National Novel Writing Month prep work the last week or so, and as such I offer you a little something from my past. This piece was originally posted over at the Six Sentences social network in December 2008. My faulty spine and my grin I get from my father, and the freckles . . . → Read More: How I learned to curse. #fridayflash Dave raised his collar against the night wind, wishing he’d worn a scarf. The leftover kitchen humidity mingled with his own stale sweat as he made his way home, creating a chilly layer of moisture under his clothes. Restaurant work sucked, but it was easy to find and keep. Plus, Viva Roma was close to home, . . . → Read More: Shortcut At first, the mild electrical shock and tiny horizontal rollers tickled as they brushed his eyelashes. The novelty wore off in seconds. Floating safely in the isolation tank of body temperature saline solution, Marsden relaxed, and began to enjoy the neural fireworks his cortex launched against the artificial night of his closed eyelids. Rippling orange waves of . . . → Read More: Happy Ending # fridayflash Captain Noel Tayak went from unconscious to panicked as soon as he opened his eyes. It was a toss up, actually, as to which he became aware of first: the cold steel table under his naked back, or the thick leather restraints at his wrists, ankles, waist, and forehead. Along with the aseptic, professionally clean odor . . . → Read More: The Collector – #fridayflash Professor Harold Stamp was enjoying a bowl of vanilla ice cream and watching a re-run of Who Isn’t The Boss? when the alarm started. The red bulb on the wall pulsed and a circuit breaker flipped, killing the power to the television and the living room lights. “It’s time, Clyde. We knew it would come to . . . → Read More: Now and Then – #fridayflash |
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