Category Archives: Creative Writing

Glass Slipper

6 Replies
Tim Rebkavets via Unsplash

Glass Slipper

“…and on the left is Berg Eltz,” the guide delivers the canned script from rote. His German-accented English spills from the tour bus speakers as he navigates the narrow Elzbach River valley road. “The castle has been owned by the same family for over eight hundred yea…”

Elise’s mind wanders until the even temperament of his voice only fills the background spaces in her head.

Why did she want to see castles, Prince Charming was never coming. Hell at this point the evil Prince would do. She imagined being locked in the highest turret. A plaything to be ravished beneath the full moon, her hungry bones left to wait for the next time. Her mother insisted girls like them were destined for more mundane fates with men who were far less interesting. Men like her Dad who worked his fingers to the bone, sweating blood and tears just to survive.

Unknown

The bus stopped at the end of the long stone walkway leading to the entrance of Eltz. For the next two hours, the historic castle would be her playground. Her travel companions opted for the guided tour while Elise chose to walk the halls and grounds alone. ‘Bleiben Sie hinter der Linie’, ignoring the signs she sat on the edge of the Prince’s bed. A moment later she swung her feet up and lay back. The room was much smaller than she expected but it didn’t matter. She watched the door, expecting him to walk through at any moment, no one came.

As the stopover came to an end she thought of her own smaller castle back in Omaha. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. The thought of removing her glass slippers felt liberating. Pulling them from her feet she set them on the stone wall and walked barefoot onto the bus.

At the next stop Elise sat for a moment, not sure if this was scheduled or if the bus had broken down. As she looked out over the scenic countryside, she caught movement in her periphery. Turning her head and setting her eyes on a tall, dark and extremely handsome man. He was heading right toward her while he motioned with his hands.

Unknown

“Excuse me, excuse me… I think you left these at Berg Eltz.”

She nodded.

“I need to be certain,” he said as he dropped to one knee.

She raised her leg to meet his hand and he slid the slipper onto her foot…

Credits and Additional Information

Solstice

Leave a reply

Solstice

Spring, summer, winter, fall, rainy or dry, the seasons are born of a celestial love story.

Theia, travelling cold and alone through Sol’s domain. Oblivious to a fate inexorably tied to the maiden planet set within its path. Drawn towards the fiery sphere’s beauty, racing towards the edge of her influence not realizing he had moved beyond the point of no return. Her gravity pulling him deeper into her well, towards a climax that will devour him and knock her off kilter.

The impact tilted her axis and gave rise to Earth’s seasons. The debris from their joining spilled into the night sky. The seeds of a new life filled the space around her. Coalescing over millennia to birth a child from nothing more than a chance meeting. Their child, forever in lockstep with its mother, gentling shaping and reshaping her shorelines as it circles her.

Theia may no longer roam through Sol’s domain but his legacy lives on in the night sky. Its DNA is embedded in the Earth and the Moon, marking the months as Earth continues her journey around the Sun.

Credits and Additional Information

I Didn’t Do It

2 Replies
Image: Unknown | Graphic Design: Greg Glazebrook @ GMGCreative.

I Didn’t Do It

It had been a long night. The club manager demanded she stay, a plaything for some VIP clients who were looking for more than drinks and dances. Saying “No” was never an option, at least she’d earn some extra cash but it meant her boy would be alone. The sitter couldn’t stay any later, she had to get to her own job in the morning. Hopefully, he’d sleep in and not notice she was missing.

Tired, sore and feeling dirty and used she pushed on the small door that swung inwards revealing the tenement flat she called home. Exhausted, she stepped inside and as she approached him, fear flashed in his eyes. He dropped the gun on the sofa and told her he didn’t do it.

Strewn across the milk crate coffee table and old worn couch she’d salvaged from the dumpster out back lay her old photo albums. The pages were torn and set adrift in a sea of unwashed dishes, an overflowing ashtray, and other shit. Every picture had been removed and hot-glued to the furniture and walls of their one-room prison. Surreal, the scene played like a 3D movie around her. Their tiny life illuminated in the orange and yellow glow of sunrise streaming in bands through the bars of the apartments only window.

“I know,” she said. How could she be angry with him, it wasn’t his fault. Her knees buckled as a wave of guilt and shame crashed into her, taking her breath and making it difficult to draw another. She wrapped her arms around her seven-year-old miracle and began to sob.

He squeezed back and said, “It’s going to be okay Mommy. Please don’t cry.”

Credits and Additional Information

Dad’s Lessons

2 Replies
Unknown / Post-processing by Greg Glazebrook @ GMGCreative

Dad’s Lessons

The summer of ’63. Jinny and I talk about running off in that old Sharknose Ford. God knows what we’d have gotten up to in the flatbed. Me, a sixteen-year-old life support system for a boner and Jinny completely smitten. Nothing good could have come from two teenagers high on the hormones of youth.

“Patience,” he’d say gripping the keys in his dirt-stained hands. “You’ll be the driver someday.”

God knows where we’d be if he’d let us run wild. Dad’s gone but Jinny and me still look something spectacular sitting in the front seat of that old truck.

Unknown / Composite image created by Greg Glazebrook @ GMGCreative
Credits and Additional Information

What Are the Chances?

5 Replies
0fjd125gk87 via Pixabay

What Are the Chances?

“Turn off the transporter beam Umek, and put this thing in cloak mode,” Temu said while shielding its six eyes and looking away from the lonely soul standing on the side of an old Earth road.

“What don’t you think he can see you?” Umek shot back, “You are a humongous moron.”

 “Whatever, just get us the hell out of here!”

“Awwww, come on, he looks like he needs a lift and we could use some company. Besides, if he turns out to be a dick we can just drop him off at the next galaxy.”

“Are you nuts, we ain’t no bleepin’ Galactic Uber service. Did you not read the sign we passed about a parsec back?”

“What are the chances…”

“…that he’s a bloody axe murderer! I’d rather not find out.” Temu interrupted.

After a brief pause, Umek continued, “…where is your sense of adventure, aren’t you getting sick of being trapped in this tin can with me yet?”

“You have no idea…”

Credits and Additional Information

Green Mountain Gold

6 Replies
Unknown

Green Mountain Gold

Vermont Cheddar, how could anything be terrible about that? The terroir and tang of regional cheeses with a great bottle of wine sound delightful. I’m in, who knows maybe too much wine will help with this month’s Terrible Poetry Contest! About that, Chel asks us to write a terrible limerick about this regional cheese. Two months ago I said let them eat cake, now I say let them eat cheese!!! on to the terribleness again…

From Vermont came a cheddar, behold
Legend has it, one heck of a mold
Big cheese curd not forstall
The coming Woodchuck brawl.
For a chance to taste Green Mountain gold.

And I’m off to make some nachos with melted cheese (and maybe chili!)

Credits and Additional Information

Contextus Indignus

7 Replies
Unknown

Contextus Indignus

Thomas sat at the table with his head in his hands, years of hard work and dedication hung in the balance.

He was still the highest-grossing salesperson in the organization, his stature legendary after 35 years of service.

They called him Easter Sunday because no one could resurrect a lost deal like he could, bringing opportunity back from the dead as if it were Jesus on the third day.

Sure, he’d been handsomely compensated for his efforts, but he’d made more money for this Corporation than anyone could count; single-handedly lifting it from its Mom and Pop beginnings to a giant of the industry.

Defunct of any reason the Director of Human Resources stared at him with shame and disgust, they no longer saw him as a giant but an out-of-touch dinosaur.

He tried to explain that it was a simple misunderstanding, the word gay had once meant happy, but it was too late, the damage was done; guilty in the court of public opinion he watched as his life swirled about the room before being flushed down the elevator and out the back door – left holding nothing but a single box of his belonging.

Credits and Additional Information

Decapod Delights

3 Replies
Unknown

Decapod Delights

Pink and plump upon my plate,
Wrong place, wrong time, cruel twist of fate.

One of a million tiny eggs set free,
Upon the current of a briny sea.

Sifting through the ocean floor,
For bits of plankton, algae and more…

What’s up bruh, yo, bust tha’ rhyme,
In clicks and snaps on ocean time.

Stay in school and you’ll be set,
Against most predators but not man’s net.

Swimming in a sea of butter,
The surfer half of my steak supper.

Unknown
Credits and Additional Information

Missing

1 Reply
Viktor Forgacs via Unsplash

Missing

Mary Two Rivers stood quietly in the place along the edge of the reservation she’d come to so often, the band Chief agreeing to one last visit even as the heavy machinery roared around her.

The pain had not softened in the years since her Emily, the dark-haired girl with a spirit set alight by a spark from the Creator’s fire, had been taken.

The worn and weathered doll she’d been gifted by the widow from the secondhand shop in town, herself long since dead, marked the last known location of the girl who’d vanished some 21 years earlier.

In a few short hours, the landmarks that provided Mary with the last links to her baby’s existence would be erased in the name of progress; another girl added to the list of the forgotten.

There is an epidemic across North America that has seen tens of thousands of Aboriginal women and girls murdered or go missing. In Canada that number is about 1200 since 1980 however it is believed to be much higher as many cases are never reported or reported incorrectly. Information on Canada’s Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls can be found at MMIWG.

Credits and Additional Information

16. Revenge: The Captive Soul

2 Replies
Lane Jackman vis Unsplash

16-1. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Followed)

Inez always came to mind in the aftermath of one of his excursions. What would she say, he thought.

Across town, his former lover walked along the trail from town. She sensed its presence, a shiver running up her spine. The treetops rustled and swayed overhead as if something was tracking her, waiting for an opening to swoop down. She hurried her step…

Unknown

16-2. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Revealed)

Breathtaking, like the air had been removed. She gasped as it settled behind her.

Deleece Cook vis Unsplash

16-3. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Understanding)

Inez awoke in her bedroom. She could feel Charles’ fingerprint on the woman sitting beside her.

“I didn’t know!” She blurted out in fear.

“Perhaps, but you sensed the potential that lay within, even showed great enterprise in controlling it for a while” Lilith’s eyes darted to the beast. “I mean no harm but you have something I need.” She said as the beast set the box down next to Inez.

“The Ring?”

Unknown

16-4. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Secret)

Inez didn’t know the ring’s secret but she could see the beast, clad in its coat of mail, flinch as she reached for it.

“Yes,” said Lilith, “but it’s more, I need you to help stop him.”

The Revenge Series

<< 15. Revenge: The Morning After

17. Coming Soon >>

Credits and Additional Information