Flowers

I've been working on some short stories, and I'm gonna cheat a bit and say it counts for this blog. And while I have no plans to publish the stories on this blog, I am going to have an excerpt. (And that is my photo.)

Flowers For The Dead (excerpt)

...The day woke with a storm on its way. I could tell by the way the sky slowed and grew heavy. The dark grey clouds pushed in, and the trees began to bend, the leaves glimmering like a thousand emeralds catching the light. I could hear the house react to the wind, hear its strain against the violent pushes of air. The wind wanted to come inside, wanted to take everything and carry it outside. I felt the wet heat build, as if the heavens were taking in a long deep breath. And I could hear Mama in different parts of the house, hurrying the windows she had opened shut again. I heard something slide and break, and her cuss because of it. Out across the yard I could see the woods swaying like grass and I pictured a great monster sweeping his hand across the tree tops. Then the Oak next to the house groaned and its large branches began to scrape, like claws of a thing that wants in...




*