FTP 1 Listless

Resting on the headstone the woman waited at twilight, a glow from her cigarette the only light. The smoke a listless swirl joins the clouds. As darkness falls, the difference is indiscernible. Finally, the gate creaks, her husband strolls; flowers for his grave.

“I knew it, you bastard!”

She raises her shovel, crushes his head and buries him in the plot marked as his final resting place. You can’t kill a dead man.


Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the amazing Red of M3 fame. This week’s word is listless. The word limit is 75 words. This one comes in at 74.

Lessons Snap

As part of my attempt to clear clutter in my office and find the many individual pieces of a story to weave into a tapestry, I found something else. I found something I had posted in the early days of this blog and it resonated with me, reminding me again, what I know in my head and heart to be true.

Especially now, it was good to revisit and good to be reminded.

Hard Lessons Learned – December 2011

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