Archive for Original Fiction – Page 2

Incidents on a Sunday Afternoon

Time for another story from the archives! I almost forgot about this one. I usually write some sort of speculative fiction. If I write contemporary, it’s usual a “Vienna” story, a tale set in the fictional Midwest town of Vienna. Today’s story “Incidents on a Sunday Afternoon,” however, stands alone….

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Never Liked Fritters

The line was too long and I didn’t like apple fritters, but I had committed to buying one anyway, so I was stuck waiting as the crowd pressed past me. It hadn’t been quite as crowded in the primitive area where I’d bought myself a wooden toy axe while I…

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To Peoria, with Love

A sonnet I wrote for my wife’s birthday years ago: I find at times all words as lengthened shadows, Distorted views of figures clothed in light— As a jewel set upon a ring, its brilliance bright, I cut my words to capture what I know. But how to write what God…

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The King’s Shield

It’s time for another story from the archives, and this is a bigger one. Oddly enough, though it clocks it at more than 6000 words, which is about as big as my short stories get before they balloon past the 10,000 word mark, I have done little with this one….

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“The jewels of heaven”

One of my rare poems, dug up from the archive. ~~~ The jewels of heaven Are scattered dust, Our struggling, strutting Tome of triumph, A napkin note. The sum of symphonies, The corridor of conquest, The ceaseless creative act of civilizations, Is not one divine utterance— For with a word…

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The Empty House

Another story from the archives! This is an early story, written during my college career as a writing club challenge. Besides being based on a piece of music (if I remember correctly), I was also supposed to make it “not fantasy.” Er…not sure I managed that, except in a technical…

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The Everlasting Bride

Alice sat in one of the narrow stone paths that ran between the flower beds at Gene Stratton-Porter, staring at a bee busy within the center of a large pink flower. She should not have sat in the middle of the path; she wouldn’t be able to get up again….

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Sesquipedalian

words resound like operatic orations, a natatorium’s vibrations, nugatory noises conducive to connotations despite dubious denotations. It’s galimatias of the grandest kind! A gauche gallimaufry of alphabetic signs! Alas! Alack! The verbal rack Of words interred in eons past! I am fain to flaunt this idioglossian resurrection, for I’ve no…

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Local Man Struck By Lightning Survives

It’s time to share another story from the archives. First, though, a memory. I remember staring at the sky as I lay in the bed of a truck on a road between Marysville, OH, and Bellefontaine, OH, at the end of a day working at Honda Homecoming, where I was…

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Stuart Lem: War Hero

It’s time once again for a story from the archives! This week it’s “Stuart Lem: War Hero.” Man, I used to dream about a book/TV series based on Stuart Lem all the time in late high school/early college. It’s weird to re-read it now because 1.) I think it’s still…

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A Madman’s Tale

In my continuing effort to catalog all my old stories here, I present “A Madman’s Tale.” Here’s the author note I wrote about it ages ago: Every once in awhile I write a story that I laugh gleefully over while everyone else shakes their heads. I think this is one…

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Then I Woke Up and Smelled the Perfume

Another poem from the archive. This was the first sonnet I ever wrote. Maybe it’s not a good sonnet, but still, it was the first sonnet I ever wrote. That has to count for something. Your eyes are glue drops caked with pixie dust, the ones you used to make…

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