[Fiction] Friday Challenge #137 for Jan 8th, 2010 — Marla

Posted by Mark on January 8, 2010 in Drafts, Fiction, [Fiction] Friday
2 Comments

Just because I can and the prompt allows me to, we con­tinue along with the trav­el­ing shovel of death. See what every­one else is up to at Write Any­thing! — Marla Marla was decid­edly not happy with Milo.  Ever since Milo was arrested for that episode at the bank, Milo had been chang­ing.  Pre­vi­ously, Milo […]

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[Fiction] Friday Challenge #134 for December 18th, 2009

Posted by Mark on December 17, 2009 in Fiction, [Fiction] Friday
9 Comments

[Fic­tion] Fri­day Chal­lenge #134 for Decem­ber 18th, 2009 — Milo      Milo, the ner­vous grave dig­ger smiled at the guard.  Grady Jack­son had been a guard for the 3rd National Bank and Trust for as long as Milo or any­one else could remem­ber.  Grady was older than dirt, but tougher than shoe leather.     Steve Williams could […]

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[fiction friday] — #132

Posted by Mark on December 4, 2009 in Fiction, [Fiction] Friday
7 Comments

Well, the insan­ity that is NaNoW­riMo is over, and my focus has been on fic­tion for a while now, so I return to short stuff to see what fun I can have.…So, I used some char­ac­ters from my NaNo novel. They won’t quite leave me alone. —— “I can’t see any­thing,” sobbed the fig­ure on the floor. […]

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[fiction] Friday — The Game

Posted by Mark on August 21, 2009 in Fiction, [Fiction] Friday
11 Comments

I would like to thank every­one for the warm wel­come and kind thoughts last week.  Made me feel like I fell in with a good lot. —- The Game The buzzer sounded, jolt­ing Dean into aware­ness. He still couldn’t see a damn thing, but that was sub­ject to change any moment. The visor on his helmet […]

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[Fiction] Friday — Hello, Jones

Posted by Mark on August 14, 2009 in Fiction, [Fiction] Friday
12 Comments

“Jones, what are you doing?”  asked my wife stand­ing in the door­way to our home office? “Check­ing email, what does it look like?” I responded.  I kept the sigh to myself. “I swear, you spend more time on that damn com­puter…” her voice trail­ing as she walked away. I love that woman dearly, but she […]

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