I’ll be awaiting my new prompt for the Final Round tonight at the stroke of midnight, and I’ll have twenty-four hours to write a 1,500 word story. There are now just 80 writers remaining from an original field of over 3,000.
The sun was a medallion on the horizon when the truck shrunk over the hills. It was my prize. A sign I’d paid my price. That I’d have my reward. And, believe me, I deserved it.
I grew up in Laurel Springs, New Jersey but I always say “Philadelphia” when people ask where I’m from. It says so on my birth certificate and I’ll never budge on that.
Missing were the station wagons and the minivans Robert had noticed on his drive earlier that evening. In their place were old Cadillacs with sharp fins and turquoise paint, and antique Fairlanes with their cloth tops down to the stars above
Do people hold the door At department stores Any more? Or Do they rant and roar And leave the chore To hearts that beat pure? I’m no longer sure. Can we ever endure The unyielding lure Of vain and gore? Or Have we lost the core And emerged in spores On the shower floor? … Continue reading Random Rhyming & Musing
The shrieks and the screams and the wild accusations shot across the beer hall like bullets. Bullets that I ducked and dodged on my way up to the stage and all the way out to the parking lot.
Ten minutes to cross town. Ten minutes-worth of car exhaust and sewer stench, and mustard-stained, pretzel wrappers that rise in ghostly notes against the brownstones. Ten minutes of peace. Ten minutes where I hide under headphones and nothing plays but the city--the tenor sax born of screechy brakes; the chorus spills from a corner cafe; … Continue reading Crosstown Transfer
We've learned nothing of tornado drilling in the past three hundred and sixty-four days. We've learned nothing at all.
I’ve been to a few shows, but it always feels like I’m a curator at the dinosaur exhibit. So many dusty, old bones lying around. So many hip replacements squeaking and popping to Frankie Valli’s greatest hits. It gives me a creepy feeling.
If you've never participated in the NYC Midnight Short Story Competition, you're missing out on one of the writing highlights of the year. You're too late to enter now, but start thinking about 2018. There's a hefty entrance fee ($45 early/$55 by deadline), but you get access to forums where you can workshop your piece … Continue reading 11th Annual NYC Midnight Short Story Contest – Round One