32 Comments

Sparks, Fiction

Dominic and his mom bounced all over the Northeast. They uprooted annually, traveled to the next claustrophobic city – next dull town. Everywhere felt the same.

When Dominic met Katie – another teenager and fellow forced wanderer – sparks flew right away. The two latched on, held tight.

And they never let go.

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Love this!

Claustrophobic city, dull town, the sameness and that feeling you get when you find the one that gets it and you.

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Yes!! Thank you so much, Tiffany!

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Your first two lines make the reader ask, "Why?" And then imagine answers. ( Which is what we want. ) These 50 words would be a fine opener for a longer story, Justin.

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Thanks, Sharron! I appreciate it and agree. This one does feel like it could turn into something longer.

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I love this!

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Thanks, Claire!

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The Family Restaurant, Fiction

Tom gave one last look around the family restaurant. So many memories. Checkered tablecloths. Gumball machine. Height markers from when him and his brother were kids.

He finished emptying the gasoline onto the kitchen floor, then struck a match. Tom walked away into the cold night. He never looked back.

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Very unexpected! I’d love to know more about Tom’s motive. Really enjoyed this, Geoffrey.

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Thank you! I think Tom wanted a... fresh start. 😅

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He sure did! 😁🔥

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Ha!

Love that drop from sweet nostalgia to BOOM!

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I appreciate the visuals- tablecloths, gum machine, growth measurements. I appreciate the smell of the gasoline, the sound of a flaring match. It may be a little extreme, but burning a place down may be the best solution if one is having trouble walking away, and really needs to. Nice.

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THE FRESH START, prose poem by Sharron at 🍁Leaves

Although many reckless and impulsive promises will fail,

young women know that after the fading of the bruises,

the licking of the wounds,

there is always a chance to start over.

When women are older, chances for new beginnings run out

and time remains only for the wisest of choices.

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Beautiful, Sharron. Time is a truly precious gift!

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Step, Fiction

Today was Arthur's 70th birthday. The mirror confirmed as much, with his stretched leather skin and his nicotine-yellow teeth.

All his life, Arthur had lived indoors

doing nothing but worry, leaving his dreams for sleep.

Today he stepped out for the first time.

He never stepped back.

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Great story, Chris! I’m left wanting to read more about Arthur’s character and his life in general. It’s never too late to begin a new chapter.

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Severance Pay (Fiction)

She'd hoped nobody would recognize her with longer hair and bold lipstick,

being used to a face that blended with the background, except when she smiled

and then only because of her overbite. She smirked as she cleared the lobby unobserved

surprised no one noticed the blood on her shirt.

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Whoa! Nicely done, Tiffany! Great story!

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Thank you!

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Yikes, Tiffany. So many questions! I have a clear image of this place in my head. Smirk is just the right word. ( It speaks volumes about your character .) You have a fine unexpected ending. But I have no idea who she is or the reason for the mayhem. I need to think more about a possible motivationI? I am intrigued, but a little lost. Maybe that is a good thing?

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Maybe if I had 50 more words?😂❤️

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Yes... I think that is it. Some scenarios may be too complicated for so much abbreviation?

Not sure. I write these little bits for "50s by the fire", but often expand them a a little for publication on my own site. Anyway - cool! Your entry got me going.

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Winter Highs and Lows - CNF

A beautiful 40 degree afternoon melts the stubborn snow still stuck to the street. The car wash is packed with salt-encrusted cars and owners who are excited that their doors won’t freeze shut after washing.

The next morning it doesn’t matter. Snow blankets the ground. Fresh from a midnight storm.

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Beautifully written with a lovely twist at the end! I’m very familiar with these sporadic winter highs and lows. Can’t stand those fluctuating temperatures, ugh!

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Thanks! Fluctuating temps are the worst, especially when they dip really low!!

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Zillow - Fiction

Under contract, finally. Thirty five years, four kids, six dogs, one long career.

Little plastic people, staring out with smiles.

Acrylic paint peeling off, revealing colors more vibrant, beautiful, some scars.

They embrace. One, maybe both, whispered “fuck yeah!”

They tumbled down, scraped off the icing, and didn’t look back.

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Love this, Gina! You cover a lot of ground here! Beautifully written.

And thank you so much for becoming a subscriber. I’m grateful! 🙏

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That Missing Minute

streaming all New Year's Eve

mostly Action Kid from Times Square

out on the street

but in the last minute of countdown am buffering

am I stuck in a time warp

out of sync

time traveling between the years

don't feel any different

but am I sensitive enough to know

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Intriguing piece, Sharon! I really enjoyed it. That middle stanza/paragraph makes me pause and wonder. Nicely done!

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thanks Justin, btw I watch Action Kid on YouTube when I find myself missing NYC, my home for many years

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Oh wow, never knew you lived in NYC! I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Action Kid but I’ll have to check it out.

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