Yes, I’m still writing tons of very short stories, or #vss! I wrote these for #vss365 and #satsplat!
The phantasm of a smile flickered across her face. I took her hand.
"There's hope for us, I love you."
Her eyes were bitter. "It's too late. I wish you the best, but I'm going."
"But..." the word dies on my lips. She looks light, relieved. I let her go.
I try to force it down, the sick feeling, the craven impulse. I'm watching as they bang him against the locker, laughing. We're friends at home but not here. I force my mouth open to say something, anything that would end the torment. But I don't. I look away.
The Hidden Book
Agnes wiped the grime of a century off the cover of the book hidden in Mrs. Culpepper's pantry.
"Potions Moste Potente," it said, "And Recipe for a moste Excellent Victoria Sponge." Now Agnes would win the bake-off for sure!
Ana built the fire in a secluded grove of moss covered trees. Ash, oak, and rowan, then the sacred herbs, then a later greenwood to make the white smoke. She watched the tendrils rising into the night sky, carrying her question to the gods. She waited in silence.
Lana rode down the muddy village roads. Smoke rose from the square, but no screams yet. She drew her sword; the crowd parted. Lana rode to the pyre, sliced the ropes binding Gwen, and pulled her onto the horse.
"I knew you'd come," Gwen said with a kiss