Sarah Anne Wisemueller sat on the back steps of Sisters of the Secret Mystery, the orphanage her Uncle Thomas had dropped her off ten years ago. She looked across the dark paved playground, remembering. Back then, at seven, she was one of the children hanging from the monkey bars, but now at seventeen, she had different feelings as she watched… (more…)
Everything was fine as they began their first night in the mountains. The whole convoy was in high spirits as they left the comfortable homesteads of their people which surrounded the central settlement. Ten years had passed since their crash landing on Darkworld, as some had begun to call it, and in that time the settlers, now known as “pilgrims,”… (more…)
I stood in the shadows at the edge of the silent alleyway, enfolded in early morning darkness. Across the street, the neon bar sign flashed “Mel’s Brewery” once every three seconds. Beneath the name, on an alternating three seconds, it flashed the question, “Ready for a beer?” and the correct time on the hands of a neon clock, now one-forty-six.… (more…)
1. Writers write. Leaders lead, cooks cook, writers write. If you are a writer, you write. That you write well, that you write many words or that you write in a particular genre, is all description, detail after the fact. A writer writes, so to be a writer, you must write. The intent of the statement is not to ensure… (more…)