Tag: Online Writing

Day 24: Purple Is For by Erik Bergstrom

On the 24th Day of Christmas Erik Bergstrom gave to me… They were walking down their quiet city street, their arms interlaced, two days before Christmas. It had yet to snow. They were both seventy-two years old this year; Hazel a retired teacher, Ernie a part-time woodworker. They’d come through another year and were happy

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Three Orchids by E. Alexandra

When I was seven my father threw out my mother’s vintage dining table.  It was a beautiful, untrustworthy beast that sucked all the air out of the room and swallowed up any tendril of light.  Both marveling and fearing it, I’d run my hands down the curvature of its chestnut-colored legs; weeks later my hands

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Day 22: Holiday Definitions and Observational Notes for Mrs. Grimsby—English as a Second Language 104, by Dolma Karpo by Annie Bien

On the 22nd Day of Christmas Annie Bien gave to me… From Merriam Webster: I. Immaculate: adjective a) having no stain or blemish : pure, b) having or containing no flaw or error c) a: spotlessly clean b: having no colored spots or marks —used especially in botany and zoology # DK: Observational Note: An

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Day 21: Eight Treasures Rice Pudding by Annie Bien

On the 21st Day of Christmas Annie Bien gave to me… Mommy lifted the lid. The sweet aroma of sticky rice filled the kitchen. “You girls couldn’t be more different. Your sister wants everything American: a white fake tree, cotton snow, ornaments, wrapping paper, colored lights. That costs money. Is she mad because she thinks

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FICTION: The Secret Patron by Graham Kirby

I arrived in New York in the late summer of 1883, having crossed by the Guion Line with the Liverpool and Great Western Company. At once, I set myself up with digs in Lower Manhattan near the Christopher Street Pier on the Hudson River, at the time a dark nest of competing factions. Wrapped up

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Day 20: Middle of Nowhere by Marie Day

On the 20th Day of Christmas Marie Day gave to me… Marnie’s all in white; a celebrity ghost of Christmas past, hammering on my door at two in the morning. ‘Don’t worry, no one’s died.  Except mebbe me career.’  She stumbles over the stone step into the house.  The whiff of white wine and Black

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Day 17: Loss Prevention by Sandra Cimadori

On the 17th Day of Christmas Sandra Cimadori gave to me… It’s not like we sell anything anyone really needs. This stuff is the discounted excess of upscale department stores. It ain’t life or death. I do my job, Loss Prevention Specialist, but I’m not about to risk getting punched or maybe even shot confronting

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Day 14: The Dead Birds of Christmas by Edward Ahern

On the 14th Day of Christmas Edward Ahern gave to me… “I don’t like turkey.” Sarah made shushing noises. “Phil, it’s Christmas. Pretend it’s veal. Or pork.” “It tastes like greasy cardboard. I’ll tell my brother I’ve gone Vegan.” “They’ve been to your cookouts. They already know you scrape vegetables off your plate.” “Yeah, but

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Day 13: Jesus to a Child by Hannah Storm

On the 13th Day of Christmas Hannah Storm gave to me… Today my four-year-old found the Lord in his lunchbox. Tucked between the apple slices and the yoghurt tubes, Charlie might have missed the miracle, but fortunately for him and the future of faith, his form teacher Miss Angel was on hand. I had feared

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Day 9: How far to fall at the Freshers Christmas Ball by Lucy Goldring

On the 9th Day of Christmas Lucy Goldring gave to me… On balance, it’s better that he didn’t notice me. Invisibility might just be my new superpower. Being in here – bass a distant drub-drub-drub, fellow ‘freshers’ a drone of bullshit – offers vodka-clear perspective. I will ignore the rat poison pellets squealing annihilation (too

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