Short Stories
Below are selections of short stories from a collection I have written. While most of the books I write are for children, my short stories have a darker tone to them. I first started to explore writing short stories after I read "St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves" by Karen Russell and wanted to dig a little deeper into more obscure subject matters on my own and thought that short stories were a perfect way to test the waters. Hope you enjoy!
(Click the story title below to read the full story)
(Click the story title below to read the full story)
Elegant Things
A chill breeze caressed the cheek of the old woman sitting on a worn, well-used, wooden street bench. Trenches of wrinkles creased her face. Strands of coarse, grey hair pulled loose from her tightly wound bun and danced with each movement of air. She glanced down... (more)
A chill breeze caressed the cheek of the old woman sitting on a worn, well-used, wooden street bench. Trenches of wrinkles creased her face. Strands of coarse, grey hair pulled loose from her tightly wound bun and danced with each movement of air. She glanced down... (more)
Once a Solid Doll
The smell of burnt plastic wafted through the night air. Blackened curls of residue spiraled out of the ruby embers as flames burst forth from the small doll now sentenced to dissolve in the oblivion of the fire. The coy, indifferent eyes became glassy as fire licked at the once... (more)
Timber
Lizzy sat on the porch spraying her water-soaked sandals with pine-scented disinfectant, glancing up only when Seth made a hoot or holler. He was stooped under a dead oak tree in the back yard – one that had been there since Lizzy could remember. When Lizzy was younger... (more)
The Night the Bell Tolls
The mound of blankets heaved and moaned. Twisted swatches of aged cotton, torn and stained from years of restless sleep and night sweats, rustled in protest as the body beneath them slithered and writhed. The stench was unbearable... (more)
Nobody Cries for Opossums
“I said leave it alone!” Olivia pleaded. “It didn’t do anything to you!” Her fingers twisted around a fold in her shirt.
“It’s already dead. It doesn’t care,” argued Billy, the eldest of the Crandall children. His lanky figure squatted by the road, elbows propped...(more)
“I said leave it alone!” Olivia pleaded. “It didn’t do anything to you!” Her fingers twisted around a fold in her shirt.
“It’s already dead. It doesn’t care,” argued Billy, the eldest of the Crandall children. His lanky figure squatted by the road, elbows propped...(more)
The Sugar Sucker
CRINKLE, CRINKLE… SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.
Donald reached under the bed into his trick-or-treat bag and grabbed a handful of candy. He dropped the assortment onto his blanket. With sausage-like fingers, he peeled away the wrapper of a miniature chocolate bar... (more)
CRINKLE, CRINKLE… SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.
Donald reached under the bed into his trick-or-treat bag and grabbed a handful of candy. He dropped the assortment onto his blanket. With sausage-like fingers, he peeled away the wrapper of a miniature chocolate bar... (more)
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