Storytelling has never been my strong suit. Writing them for school projects was always fun. Writing them as a means of living out my high school fantasies - great. I think I'm just put off by the fact that stories usually have beginnings, middles and ends. Plots. Characters. Stuff like that.
I'm a pretty big fan of the fact that poetry doesn't have to have any resolve. Who knows. Maybe I'm writing stories wrong. I will continue to sharpen what I have posted here and hopefully, over time, they will get to where they can stand up on their own.
We can't always keep ourselves to ourselves.
(noun)
1. Condition, state or delusion in which things appear more beautiful than they really are.
The road to happiness is paved in gold. What should the crunchy texture matter?
"Can you come inside, please?"
Waiting is the second worst part.
The spark may be gone, but Charles hopes to keep the flame alive.
A widowed father takes his son to his first day of preschool.
A tired, middle-aged security guard has her conscience and consciousness put the test.
This one is short enough to read without needing a synopsis.
A young woman weathers another lonesome night at home.