Ward Norcutt
Bio
Playwright and poet.
My goal as a writer is to write thoughtful pieces of prose, poetry and stage plays. Hopefully, the end results are entertaining and engaging, with layers of meaning that make sense to the whole or a theme therein.
Stories (122/0)
Until Shadow
If you ask people which they prefer, cats or dogs, you usually get a solid and unwavering answer. Some are dog lovers. Some are cat people. Me? I’m a dog guy. My beautiful Annie died a few years ago. She was seventeen. A Pound-puppy she was and, like all others, the best dog in the world. I think back to her always smile and Chantilly Lace trot and just know that every day with her was a good day. Even so, no specific story comes a-calling. So, I reach back farther and my heart nestles into a comfort, like a soft nest of happiness. I said I’m a dog guy, but that’s not the way it used to be.
By Ward Norcutt2 years ago in Families
A Penny a Piece
"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window, and I don’t know how I knew that. That it was abandoned before. And I don’t know how I knew about the candle except that this time it was out. But I knew that it was good that it was out.” Franklin shivered as he recalled his dream. His mother soothed his little furrowed brow with a thumb, as he stared into the memory, still so vivid, his whiteknuckled fingers twistlocking his comforter tight under his chin.
By Ward Norcutt2 years ago in Horror
For My Father
They say some stories write themselves. I don’t know about that. The story of my father has been bandied about by many. He took his own life in a small Kootenay town on Friday, August the 13th, 1982. He was a parts man at a local auto shop. Everyone knew him.
By Ward Norcutt2 years ago in Families
The Twain
There weren't always dragons in the valley. There weren't always a lot of things that never used to be. Monsters in the sea, and trolls and goblins, and worse. Much, much worse. But there weren't always faeries in the forest, either. Or dwarves in the rocky depths, and elves and giants, and better. Much, much better.
By Ward Norcutt2 years ago in Fiction
Me Too, Mom
There’s not much you don’t already know. I mean, before you died, there was so little we hadn’t already talked through, or cried over, or fought about. Or laughed at. There is the one thing, though. I never told you. I never told anyone. How do you tell your mom something like that? How do you tell anyone?
By Ward Norcutt2 years ago in Families