Fiction, Poetry, Nonfiction, Photography and Photo Art
“Nymph?” Mr. Jeffers leaned back in his chair and looked expectantly at me across the desk.
“What?” I asked. “Nymph what?”
“Nymph,” he said impatiently. “Do you think you’d be interested in a position as a nymph? I have a couple of listings here from The Aides of Artemis. No special qualifications required. Seems like one of them might suit your general lack of work experience.” Continue reading “Help Wanted”
Spring is the time when all the girls and boys in the squirrel community ready themselves for the chase. As the weather warms and the days become brighter, the girls get gussied up and swish those tails in invitation. The boys get revved. The pursuit is on. Continue reading “Mad Squirrel Falls for Love”
Squirrels are natural born storytellers. On nights when the moon is bright and the air is warm, the squirrels in the community will gather in the limbs of a large oak and listen to the tales of days gone by. Some nights there are stories of the Pygmy Tribe who are rumored to live in a tropical paradise where the cold of winter never intrudes. Some nights they tell of the Giant Grizzled Squirrel who is mighty enough to challenge a bear. Continue reading “Mad Squirrel Tries to Fly”
There once was a squirrel that lived in a beautiful old oak tree. Now this squirrel was a bit of a grumpy-gus who complained about everything all the time. Too many of those human creatures and their dogs walking around disturbing his peace. Too much work to run down the trunk and gather up the acorns on the ground. Those damn jays, making such a racket all the time. Continue reading “Mad Squirrel and the Red-Eyed Owl”
The man who met Manson sat down at the bar and ordered a scotch neat. He was a thin sort of man – thin build, thinning hair, thin lips. He left such an impression of thin that people would always say, “You know. That thin guy.” As if nothing else need be said. Indeed, no one had ever mentioned anything else that was memorable about him. Even his thinness faded from any given memory almost as soon as it took up residence. He was, apart from the thinness, completely nondescript. Continue reading “The Man Who Met Manson”
Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to our travel agency. How may we help you today?
Oh, I see. You’re interested in our moon tours, Lunar Odysseys as we like to call them. Here’s one of our brochures describing the current tours. As you can see, we have all sorts of themes and price ranges. How much were you planning to spend? Continue reading “Lunar Odysseys”
“True to you.” The voice emanating from the computer’s speakers was female, perky. Lisa pictured some blond, blue-eyed pixie, an image that set her teeth on edge.
“Your own personal life experience at the mall is now available,” the voice continued. “Please, enter and enjoy!” Continue reading “True To You”
I have been walking for quite some time when I realize my thirst has grown to the point of urgency. The landscape morphed again a while back and now includes a large number of trees. The narrow, dirt path in front of me curves to the right. I assume the next fresh water spring will appear around that bend but there is no way to be certain. Though I’ve rarely been made to go without water or food for too long, there have been a few times when I thought I might pass out from the lack of one or both. It’s unwise to take anything for granted here. There is nothing to do but keep walking. Continue reading “In the Garden”
“Miss Ann! Miss Ann!” A soft, insistent knocking at my door along with the repetition of my name finally penetrated my sleeping brain. I opened my eyes and sat up in bed as I heard Julia call again. “Miss Ann! You must get up. The constable is here. He says he must talk to you.” Continue reading “A Woman’s Tale”
I’m not sure exactly when it started. The brick wall encircling my property winds through some uncultivated areas and though my intention was to walk the perimeter once a month, that intention was often suppressed by my sedentary nature. All I can say is that I found the first breach in the wall a month ago when I stumbled over the bricks that had been removed, piled in a disorganized heap as if to mock my desire to keep the rabble out. Continue reading “Something There Is…”
Karen Lee Kleis 