“Life must be good, old sport,” Cyril sidled across the travertine terrace toward Flynn, his nose sniffing the air and his voice dripping with subservience. Flynn stretched languidly, eyes closed, mouth wide, his fangs flashing a brilliant white. The creamy, walnut-hued courtyard tiles remained cool even under the hottest sun. Flynn lounged there most afternoons, … Continue reading A proper introduction
I'm devoting this week to taking back control of my yard. I've spent hours each day mowing, trimming trees and shrubs, edging sidewalks and patios, and various and sundry things needed done to make my landscaping presentable. Sadly, the lack of rain and attention means my yard is also sort of crunchy now. All that … Continue reading 100 Word Challenge: Joints
I'm late... I know. I blame* FIFA World Cup soccer and afternoon semifinal games - England v Croatia - that go into two overtimes. Spoiler: Croatia won its semi, so did France. (I will blame* anything other than my own procrastination/ennui/lack of inspiration.) I haven't been following the tournament to this point. The U.S. Men's … Continue reading 100 Word Challenge: Sport
Wednesday was the Fourth of July, a federal holiday in the U.S. designated to celebrate the country’s independence from England. Banks closed, there was no mail service, many businesses closed (not retailers though, July 4th is one of the busiest shopping days of the year) and nationwide, cooking out was the grand event, second only … Continue reading 100 Word Challenge: Freedom
“Back in the day, would I’ve been a villein?” Jodie and Flynn snuggled on her bed for their nightly chat. “I can’t imagine you as a ‘bad guy’ in any era,” Flynn purred, offering his belly for scratching. “No, silly, not ‘villain’, ‘ain’,” Jodie giggled, tickling him with both hands. “I mean ‘villein', ‘ein’, like … Continue reading Family history
Flynn luxuriated in a pool of sunlight pouring through the bay window, his tail lazily swatting at dust motes playing in the amber stream. His person, Jodie, was in a similar posture in a plush chair near the window snuggled under an old, crocheted afghan. She wavered on the edge of sleep, her eyelids heavy, … Continue reading Her man Flynn
