Lark Hanshan
Bio
A quiet West Coast observer. Writing a sentence onto a blank page and letting what comes next do what it must.
Stories (38/0)
Blossoms Besotted
The wisteria tree nestled into the western shade of a grove left long untended, was laden heavily with the works of spring, ripened during those fine, clear and warmly spent hours beneath promising blue skies the season used dotingly, lavishly, lovingly.
By Lark Hanshanabout a month ago in Fiction
- Top Story - March 2024
FireforgedTop Story - March 2024
My dragon is the woman with black ringlet curls, freckles tracing constellations over her warm skin. She laughs uninhibitedly at the Minions from Despicable Me, enough that you can’t keep yourself from laughing with her, and is never far from a cup of coffee. If you’re ever worried, her top three answers are to pray, drink water, and just don’t worry. Things are going to turn out the way they’re going to turn out, and they will be okay.
By Lark Hanshan2 months ago in Writers
Provisioning
A vixen charged into a chicken coop with the light of murder in her eyes. Sparks buzzing on her vivid coat, she swept through the squawking flock with ease. She plucked a shapely hen from the fray, snapping her jaws around the shrieking bird and clamping down hard. The survivors screamed at the sound of a snap, feathers everywhere as the fox made her escape.
By Lark Hanshan3 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - January 2024
- Runner-Up in the Smooth Challenge
Mom’s HandsRunner-Up in the Smooth Challenge
Held the babies Changed the diapers Washed the dishes Laundered the clothing Raised four children Held the steering wheel, shaking, when a dirt truck nearly pushed our big, beautiful Beauville filled with Mom and kids off the road
By Lark Hanshan5 months ago in Poets
Fishwidow
By the time the men have left and the sorry son is put to bed, the last of what holds her steady is gone. To crawl into bed with her love, snuff out the lamp as though it were any other night, would be a treasure only Death could plunder from her. He has, in the most wretched of ways.
By Lark Hanshan10 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - June 2023
Candy CaperTop Story - June 2023
Mia, seven, expert barefoot stealth artist, picked her way over the kitchen tiles. It was the perfect time to collect. The summer heat of afternoon had sunken in – anyone with a full belly was liable to succumb to fatigue. Still air hung heavy with perfume of flowers and fruit, and a yellow bird perched and sang atop the gable.
By Lark Hanshan11 months ago in Fiction
