Cindy Calder
Bio
From Charleston SC - "I am still learning." Michelangelo
Stories (248/0)
Pilfered Wealth
The handsome redbird landed with a screech atop the high post fence. From his perch, he cocked his head sideways, surveying the long porch that ran the length of the pool. It was scattered with an array of items from last night’s party: empty and half-full glasses of champagne, beaded necklaces, discarded masks, and half-eaten food. Dang, but Mardi Gras was one big party.
By Cindy Calder12 months ago in Fiction
Bluebird
The handsome bluebird landed with a screech atop the high post fence. From his perch, he cocked his head sideways, surveying the long porch that ran the length of the pool. It was scattered with an array of items from last night’s party: empty and half-full glasses of champagne, beaded necklaces, discarded masks, and half-eaten food. Dang, but Mardi Gras was one big celebration.
By Cindy Calder12 months ago in Fiction
Fried Southern Roots
Camille had lived in the South all her days. She was twenty-nine years of age and still single, which was a near unheard of occurrence in the small town she called home. All of her friends had been married for several years and most were parents of at least two children. Camille did not understand. She’d finished college, never married, and decided to return home three years ago because her mother had fallen ill, but since doing so, she’d been chastised by family, close friends, acquaintances, and even strangers whom she did not know, for not ‘settling down’.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Micro Heist Challenge
Sweet as SongRunner-Up in Micro Heist Challenge
The large blackbird landed with a screech atop the high post fence. From his perch, he cocked his head sideways, surveying the long porch that ran the length of the pool. It was scattered with an array of items from last night’s party: empty and half-full glasses of champagne, beaded necklaces, discarded masks, and half-eaten food. Damn, but Fat Tuesday was one big party.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Great Office Caper
It was Friday. A cup of good, strong coffee was needed to celebrate. I waited for the Keurig to finish. Ah, but this was too sweet. All week, I’d been able to pilfer my coworker’s cream. After all, it was just cream and not the crown jewels.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
Irreplaceable
Sweat ran in rivets down my neck. My hair and clothes were soaked through, fear coursing through my body. My heart pounded. I was sure it would burst from my chest at any moment. I threw the car in reverse, looked over my shoulder, and hit the gas. The overhang of mossy limbs made it difficult to see. I was hell bent on escaping though, my goods from this heist safely secured in the backseat.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Book of Names
Micah sat on a bench at the Battery, facing toward Fort Sumter. Waves lapped rhythmically against the seawall barricades that had stood for well over a century. The ocean was like glass this April day, with only the faintest of wind rippling across the water. The moss, hanging from massive trees that lined the pathways, swayed to the whisper of a breeze while the leaves rustled in response. Micah mused how much he loved spring in Charleston with its mild weather and abundance of blooming azaleas, magnolias, and dogwoods. All of these things, when combined, lent a calmness that betrayed the anxiousness he had felt ever since he had misplaced the old book that he always kept near to him.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction