• The Witching Hour (a #weekendfreewrite)

    Anthony Burris Green traced one jagged fingernail along the railing. Then, he opened the knife. Shut it. And opened it again. It was almost time. He glanced over his shoulder. The sun’s orange glow danced upon the horizon, illuminating the city in a fiery blanket. He smiled. A fiery blanket… that was it. First the knife, then a fiery blanket. It wasn’t that he cared if evidence was found, but fire was always welcome. Tapping the knife on the iron railing, he watched as the sun sank lower and lower, and at last all was shrouded in twilight. A hand fell on his shoulder. Turning around, he smiled into the…

  • Slather Me in Honey and Call Me a Fruitcake (a five-minute #freewrite)

    “Well, slather me in honey and call me a fruitcake!” “I don’t need to slather you in honey to call you a fruitcake, Joey,” I smirked. “Your fruitiness was evident long ago.” “Well, just slather me in honey then.” “Why?” Joey wiggled his eyebrows and placed a hand on his hip, wiggling his butt back and forth almost as quick as his eyebrows sashayed across his forehead. “Why would you slather anyone in honey?” He winked and pranced away, leaving me and my mind boggled. There were plenty of reasons to slather someone in honey –most of them sexy– but with Joey, who the hell knew what was going on…

  • Limbo

    Painted across a backdrop of lush long grass, the tell-tale mounds of orange and gold beckoned for Anna’s approach. The chrysanthemums were in bloom. She pirouetted through each soft blade, skipping and dancing with an exuberance unfelt since childhood, and clutched the wicker basket tight. The Master was going to be so pleased with her! Six flowers boiled with a blackberry squeeze and his aching heart would settle; it was his favourite tea and she’d be certain to harvest enough for a weeks worth of brews. An earthy aroma rose up from the bushes and she wrinkled her nose. The scent seemed stronger than normal… it rose toward her in…

  • Obsessive Compulsive (a five-minute #freewrite)

    Another page torn from the book; another worthless list. She was obsessed with the things! Every day she would write list after list after list. They were budgets –sometimes the exact same budget written twenty thousand times– and they were things to-do… things to-do that were never done. She had books full of these things and every week she’d buy a new notepad just to write even more lists, lists, lists! Julia said it was some sort of obsessive compulsiveness, but she wasn’t so sure. She just liked the act of being organised, even if what she organised on paper never reached fruition in reality. It was, at least, a…

  • Well-being (a five-minute #freewrite)

    This was not good for my well-being. I looked down at the meagre portion before me. It was a “salad” with a side of tasteless rice. Now, I say “salad” because I honestly wouldn’t call this a salad. It was a single leaf of lettuce, one shrivelled cherry tomato, and the tiniest sliver of an onion… and no dressing to make it more palatable. How could they call this a “decent meal”? Were they insane? I looked over at them, smiling and eating their flavourless helping of the little white specks. It was undercooked, but they didn’t seem to realise. They were definitely insane. I poked at my piece of…