Triple Berry Pie
The summer breeze blew through my hair as I walked towards the small vegetable garden in our backyard. I opened the gate and headed into the corner where most of the fruit was growing. The garden was similar to the one I’d grown up with. My parents had lived very modest lives and our single income home didn’t leave a lot of room for extravagance, so my mother grew the majority of our food. She was the best cook I’d ever known and taught me how to make the most delicious quiches and pies. It was something I was happy to pass down to my children.
Under the Fence
This piece was for a writing contest with NYC Midnight. The prompt was to write a 100 word Micro-fiction piece. I was given "Suspense/thriller" for my genre. I had to include the action of "digging a hole" and the word "super". I ended up getting Honorable Mention for it. Please enjoy:
Dancing Through Time
I dipped my brush into the powder blue paint, and ran the edges across the lip of my paint can to remove any excess. The brush felt heavy in my hand as I reached up to swipe it across the old wood once more. I had painted half a wall in the run down barn on our land. My arthritic fingers throbbed from the labor, so I balanced the brush carefully across the can’s rim to give myself a break.
My internal alarm clock wakes me up to another early morning; I stretch as I rise. I move past my sister who is just stirring. We both have a lot of work to do today, as we did yesterday and the day before. I move quietly through our home as I prepare to leave, not wanting to wake anyone.