Bet on the Heart

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

Parlay

Brighter Than…

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.

 

Shine

© LeTara Moore, 2017

Sour Milk

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

Pungent

Open Rack

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.

Not So Obvious

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:

Taste

From the book Sunlight, Coffee and Roses

It was calling my name. So I got it. Bite after bite I just couldn’t get enough. It took me to a place of euphoria. A high which cannot be described for there was nothing to compare to. That kind of feel good that melts in your mouth but not in your hands. That kind of feel good that leaves you feeling guilty. That kind of feel good that you must sweat out to rid from your body the remnants of its essence. It consumed me as much as I consumed it. Without it I experienced withdrawals. I was addicted. It had taken over my life. It was my best friend and my worst enemy. It had to be off limits to me because he it wasn’t mine to consume. He It was not a part of my budget/caloric intake. He It was so good to me…but not good for me. But here I am with it instead of him. Spoonful after spoonful. Trying to satisfy a hunger with something not suited to satisfy it. Close, but not quite.

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Craving

Choice Words

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” my mother warned me a few days ago.

“Mom, I’m just telling the truth. To quote Prince, I hate him like a day without sunshine,” I replied. The “him” I was referring to was my insensitive, egotistical boss. Fortunately, tax season would be over soon and I’d be able to return to my regularly scheduled programming called life. This should have been the year I found my own clients and worked from home, but I opted for what I thought would be the safer route; working in this office just one more season to guarantee my income. However, that’s become an issue. Every season is the last season. The business cards have been designed and collecting digital dust for the past two years. The only thing left to do to them is print them. Word had spread about my skills as a tax preparer. I’m not just a basic tax preparer, no sir. I surpassed the basic income tax course and decided to pick up IRS publications for casual reading. I do have more interesting things to do with my time, such as volunteering and tutor students in foreign languages, but nothing keeps the mind stimulated quite like tax code.

“Kerri, I have always told you that the power of life and death is in the tongue. Watch what you say.”