The Table

A quick little something I had to flush from my brain. This was a fun write. 🙂

“The Table”

“This was a bad idea.” He finished buttoning his shirt as he walked up to the door; hand in hand with his girl. 

“You think,” she said, fixing her hair and pulling down her dress.

“Well, it was already a stressful day. Then, you hit me with this. I needed a release.”

“Are you satisfied?”

“Yeah. But—I don’t know. We smell like sex now. Think he’ll notice?”

“Probably.”  Read More

Soundtracks for writing

Almost like coffee, music is a must when I’m writing (well, for me it is). Mood Music! It could be calming music or EPIC!, but no matter what I’m writing or how I’m feeling, one thing’s for sure is my writing music has little-to-no lyrics. It’s about the music, the instruments, and my story is the lyrics. Cheesy, no? And I’m a creature of habit, I find something/someone I like, I stick with it. So, one or two of these composers will make an appearance on this list more than once. Read More

Is New Year The Right Time For Resolutions?

“If we need a resolution it should be to enjoy every moment for what it is: another step in our journey of life, another bite into what we have left. I mean that in a positive way:, our time is not eternal and should be used in the best possible way.”

Eppur Si Muove

It’s always utterly silent here…

I’ve traveled cluster to cluster, galaxy to galaxy, system to system, but this is my most cherished pocket of time, of space. Young and nubile. Hard to imagine she is mere trillions old and yet I cannot imagine her a child. I touch the lace of her gown, comet dust flowing between my fingers as she breathes a sigh. They all sleep this way – the stars. They all remain locked in stasis when Life exists near them, spiraling through the cosmos in a somnambulistic dance. Pulled by the plucked strings of He and Her, urged by the steps of I, she twirls in the inescapable gravity of all things larger than she’ll ever be. She can no longer enjoy their beauty as she is not allowed to be conscious. Life still exists here.

So why am I here?

The smallest of her baubles long…

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Bait

The new house brought a smile to her face. A mien that had been drowning in sorrow for months. Eyes that were more wet than dry. A walk that was more drag than swag. But, Alicia had reason to smile now. This new house—not even a house, a cabin, a dream-place, a beautiful wooden structure lost in the country. Not another neighbor for miles. The new cabin played a big part in her happiness, yeah, but this transformation into positivity jumpstarted the moment she left the city. The very place that killed her son. And now all she had left was her husband and five-year-old daughter.
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Catching Big Bad

Cool story about the Big Bad Wolf!

Jodi Jensen Writes

***For anyone who listened to the podcast on ‘Constructing the Novel” this was actually one of the homework assignments from when I took that class. A fun new take on catching the big bad wolf. Enjoy!***

Big Bad pulled up in front of Grandma’s red brick house and cut the engine to the mini-van. He longed to put the top down on his ’69 Mustang and feel the wind in his fur, but no self-respecting Bible salesman drove a convertible anything. He lifted the horn-rimmed glasses to his face, settling them on his long wolfy snout, then straightened his yellow-striped tie.

This disguise ought to get me in the front door. A damn sight easier than standing out here shouting, “Little pig, little pig, let me in!”

He chuckled at his own foolishness. Of course, he’d been a young wolf back then, and full of himself. He’d been so…

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