Michael Fry
Bio
Michael loves to write and loves his readers. Namaste
Stories (4/0)
Something Special
Smiling used to come natural to Margaret. She would wake up and as soon as she realized where she was and who she was…a slow smile would take over her face. It would start at the edges of her mouth and with a tingly feeling it would rise gently into a grin. The grin would ignite the eyes into a joyous twinkle. The Twinkles turned to giggles and anyone and everyone who saw Margaret would get butterflies in their stomachs. But not today.
By Michael Fry3 years ago in Fiction
Kinfolk
Dogs! The barking and snapping and growling was unmistakable. Even at a distance. Blood thirsty meat eaters trained to hunt men. But how far off were they? By the echo, sounded like at least a mile up river. Had they caught his scent? His sweat. If so he was a deadman for sure. He hoped one of the dogs would have mercy on him and rip out his throat. Leave him to bleed out in the swamp. Gatorbait. Anything would be better than that goddamn cell.
By Michael Fry3 years ago in Fiction
The Fertility Star
The Fertility Star Milly blamed me. Always and for everything and so when we began to doubt our ability to conceive a child…she blamed me. She said that my sperm count was low and that it always had been. News to me. She said that I was probably shooting blanks, like when a referee starts a race. And for a minute I believed her. Hell, I’d done my share of drugs in college and quiet as it’s kept, the code loving loser who guys liked to tease actually caught an STD, yep, from a woman I met while studying in Prague…and I’m proud of it. Some guys go their whole lives without sleeping with a loose woman, and some guys, like me, take it when and where they can get it. And it, got me. Look. I’m trying to lighten up the truth. Milly blames me for us not being able to have a baby. And a baby is all Milly ever really wanted.
By Michael Fry3 years ago in Fiction
Before
Before It was stretched delicately across her chest when her eyes opened. Cold and strange and somehow familiar. It held the reflection of the Sky-Fire. It’s soft yellow light relaxed her and the tightness she felt in her chest eased and she was able to exhale a long held breath.
By Michael Fry3 years ago in Futurism