Not much inspiration has been happening for me as of late but I always think about you all and miss you very much. Pre-orders are being taken now.

In the distance wolves howled their messages to the pack and then they all congregated near the bluff. Below the cliff, were the non-suspecting sheep enjoying a cool breeze and the water flowing in the stream. The shepherd boy was fast asleep as his father noticed the movement on the cliff. Cocking his weapon, the first wolf never saw it coming. Although, Mutton stew sounds mighty good! This entry was posted on August 7, 2015.

HomeSpun Literature is bound to please. Photo Prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. February 13 Friday Fictioneer response to Photo Prompt. January 23 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt by Georgia Koch. In the calm before the storm, Rafe nailed plywood over the house windows. Wind was wind, no matter what they called it. How could you miss it? As I sorted through m.

How much can I make them talk? Written for Friday Fictioneers. He lived to die three times. Once at the age of five. They made him watch his mother turn into ashes only to hand him the urn. His tiny little hand could barely hold it. Then at the age of seven when he buried his father next to his mom. Then he died once more.

Where Future, Past and Present happen simultaneously. Too many birds for Christmas.