
Suzanne V. Tanner
Bio
Reinvention wizard with the magic 2 uncover skills, business opportunities, side gigs and more buried deep inside your head. Incl the “how 2s” [email protected]
Stories (31/0)
Asparagus
Asparagus. Those delicious little ferns grew in abundance almost everywhere in her new ocean paradise. This tropical island, known for many beautiful things, has been Lexie's relocation choice for longer than five years now. The sun and heat promised to erase everything she had witnessed in her former big city life during the first two years of this horrible pandemic.
By Suzanne V. Tanner6 days ago in Fiction
Blood on the Track
MITCH My lips struggle to form the words, but I do it anyways. That’s how you roll when it’s all you got. Like clockwork, Desi started prepping me three hours before my intro. A chemical cocktail up my nose, another in my arm. Accompanied by strategically spaced tequila shots.
By Suzanne V. Tanner6 months ago in Horror
Dollnation
Yes, you gave us a parade and a celebration in March 2022. You tolerated our right to gather variously at other times, knowing you would cut us off at the knees as summer began. Jubilant, you are, confident that soon personhood will soon be eliminated for our crowd. More than one-half of humanity.
By Suzanne V. Tanner7 months ago in Poets
A Squished Bug
I know you too well — You were that black, obese, buzzing housefly circling my head that summer when I sat on Granny’s stoop — I smelled your stench — transferred from the pile of sheep manure towering and tucked — over at the left corner of the potato patch — I swatted your stink — you dive-bombed my ear — I slapped you dead with the power in my hand — thinking I finished you — I walked away — was that you intermittently whizzing on the cement — like a faulty electrical current — like an almost spent wind up toy, ready for the relaunch?
By Suzanne V. Tanner7 months ago in Poets
When Art Did Not Make Jade Happy
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Eight-year-old Jade Everston began her sprint through the dense dark forest around 11:00 that particular Wednesday night, last July. Since her focus was dodging thick shrubs and trying not to trip over exposed tree roots, she almost missed the orange glow lighting up the window. The one to the left of the cabin’s boarded-up front door. Ragged plywood sheets blanked out every other window except this one.
By Suzanne V. Tanner7 months ago in Horror
Lobsterface
"Watch out with that hammer, or you will smash your fingers." How many times did I hear that warning? Even if the waves below the cliff where our cottage sat were super loud that day. The adults, like broken records, started with the “don't hurt yourself” exclamations.
By Suzanne V. Tanner8 months ago in Families