Archive for Original Fiction – Page 3

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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Vanishing Point

Chase leaned against the metal railing that kept him from falling onto the railroad tracks below. The bridge he stood on was old and wooden, with thick, hammered-over nails holding it together. He’d found the remote spot soon after getting his license as he drove, turning at random, just to…

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Lunatic Pandora

Another Friday, another story unearthed from the archives. This week it’s “Lunatic Pandora,” a story about what happens when the sky begins to fall. Literally. First in little flakes, then in larger shards. The story’s more than 10 years old, so there are a few dated references, but it’s a…

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“In the morning when I wake”

A poem from the archives that tries to capture some of the emotions I feel while listening to the eternally wonderful remix “Glow Worm Jim.” In the morning when I wake, I lift my eyes, I raise my arms: What’s the ground to me but the soul’s battlefield? Light is streaming through…

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The Vision of Prince Frederick

Today’s treasure from the archives is “The Vision of Prince Frederick,” a fairy tale of a man who discovers his true love and waits for her return. Okay, when I put it like that, it sounds rather blase. Let’s try again: “The Vision of Prince Frederick” is a fairy of…

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A Pleasant Spring Evening

Once upon a springtime eve, when the mosquitoes were not yet out, there was a father who found himself alone. His wife was out for coffee with old college friends, his two older kids, 6 and 4, were asleep, and the baby had conked out in her swing. Even the…

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