It’s still Wednesday at the time of the publishing. My goal with this is to publish one line of this story at a time until… Whenever. So here’s the first:
The only place she could go was forward.
Stick around and see what comes next.
It’s still Wednesday at the time of the publishing. My goal with this is to publish one line of this story at a time until… Whenever. So here’s the first:
The only place she could go was forward.
Stick around and see what comes next.
You do that entirely too well. Only in my dreams can I think like you. Behave like you. Perhaps, however, it is a good thing that I don’t. Otherwise, no one would ever know what love is.
Read More »She decided that she would wait a few days before picking up the phone again. He had already told her things that most would expect a woman to want to hear from a man. Did he really meant what he had said or was he just after “that thing”? For the third day in a row, her phone rang. She had won his words, but what about his everything else?
© 2017, LeTara Moore, All Rights Reserved
In keeping it short, sweet and fairly creative today I’d like to share a few six word stories I created, which tell their own stories individually and collectively:
Because of you I shine brightly.
I wish you had smiled more.
I wish you could smile again.
I know I made you smile.
Limited viewings, lasting impressions, everlasting imprints.
Glimpses of you, I’ll remember forever.
You’re a star to me now.
Light my path with your love.
© LeTara Moore, 2017
It was so offensive it made her cry. She’d wondered if buttermilk could really go bad. Now she knew the answer for sure. Though some things were rotted and fermented to desired states for consumption, there were some already sour that could spoil even more. So much for the buttermilk pound cake she planned.
(C) LeTara Moore 2016
The two young ladies browsed the store for what felt like forever in search of the perfect dresses. One of them was above average height and slim-framed. The other was shorter and thicker around the hips. The older blonde-haired woman who followed them made a poor attempt at being discreet. Still, she kept an eye on the young ladies dressed in hooded sweatshirts with college insignia and blue jeans. The November chill was unforgiving and even the sweatshirts did little to block the wind. Still, the pair were proud to display their school’s mascot on their clothing.Read More »
In experimenting with various styles of writing and reading more of other writers’ work, I’m learning my strengths and weaknesses. Though I’m unofficially announcing at this moment I’m working on a novel, short fiction and poetry are what I’m best at. I like for my words to pack a punch, so I attempt to create a long message in as few words as possible. I dabble in six word stories and I’m always up for a good haiku. Here’s my first attempt at five sentence fiction:Read More »
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