Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 4

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Welcome to Wednesday Briefs which is a feature on my blog where I share a piece of flash fiction for you, and link you to some other amazing authors.

Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 1

Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 2

Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 3

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By Friday the entire school was buzzing with the news of the party at the Marsh. The halls were electric, whispers, notes and tweets flew faster than the speed of light as the message spread. A couple of over achieving seniors had already figured out a schedule for cars to arrive and leave so there wasn’t too much attention drawn to the festivities.  The adults and authorities often turned a blind eye, but if there was a constant stream of traffic into the Marsh it would bring too much focus on us. I had already cleared my involvement with mom.

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Wednesday Brief: Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 3

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Welcome to Wednesday Briefs which is a feature on my blog where I share a piece of flash fiction for you, and link you to some other amazing authors.

Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 1

Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 2

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“You’ve got me,” Mom said dramatically, clutching her hand to her chest. “I don’t love you. I’m trading you in for a new son. Or a cat, I haven’t quite decided yet.” She chuckled to herself as she ate, clearly proud of her teasing.

“And you wonder where I get it from,” I muttered pushing mashed potatoes around my plate. Dinner continued with her telling me stories about her workday, and me offering noncommittal grunts when questioned about school. I added more food to her plate before she could add seconds to mine.

“Logan.”

I winced, recognizing the tone.

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Focal Point. Chapter 1 Part 2

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smallpinkdotsWelcome to Wednesday Briefs which is a feature on my blog where I share a piece of flash fiction for you, and link you to some other amazing authors.

Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 1

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I watched Cal leave, finding the table to be a little too big once he was gone. I flipped open my notebook that my laptop had been resting on and started scrawling down notes on the idea that he had given me. Art and photography were very much ‘my thing’, as soccer and anything athletic belonged to Cal. When we were kids I had an old point and shoot camera that took film and we’d spend hours in the woods behind my house hiking and taking pictures of nature—which often ended up being photos of my thumb or finger.

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Focal Point Chapter 1 Part 1

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Welcome to Wednesday Briefs which is a feature on my blog where I share a piece of flash fiction for you, and link you to some other amazing authors.

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I dropped my backpack into the chair across from me. The café was crowded, noisy and I claimed the last table in the back corner, wedged between the wall and a column it was the perfect place to work uninterrupted. My laptop took a few minutes to power up; it was in desperate need of a few updates. I couldn’t afford to get a new one, and there was no point in asking my mom to help me out. She worked hard enough to keep food on the table without worrying about whether my electronics were going to make it.

 

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Wednesday Briefs

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Wednesday Briefs is a weekly flash fiction feature on my blog. I’ll write 500-1000 words based on a prompt, share it with you and then link you to other bloggers doing the same thing.

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Dark Rights Chapter 1 part 2

The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind me when I stepped over the threshold. The interior of the building was as I remembered it. A welcoming hall, two glass doors that lead into a sanctuary—still lined with moth chewed pews. There was a woman hunched over in one of the pews, her hands clasped together, resting on the back of the pew in front of her. Gray didn’t run it as a church, but he respected the need for a place to talk to whoever may be listening.

“Your room is in the back.” He handed me the backpack. “You know the way. Drop your stuff and I’ll get you something to eat.” His eyes landed on me, studied me in a way he hadn’t in the glaring light of the late afternoon sun. “Change your clothes.” With that he wheeled past me, through the glass doors to sit next to the woman in the pew.

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Wednesday Briefs.

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Wednesday Briefs is a weekly flash fiction feature on my blog. I’ll write 500-1000 words based on a prompt, share it with you and then link you to other bloggers doing the same thing.

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Dark Rights. Chapter One, part one.

Heat rose off of the pavement in shimmering waves. Too skinny kids, who wore their shorts too low, t-shirts discarded on the steaming pavement as they danced in the spray from the broken fire hydrant. Laughing and yelling as they played in the cold water, dancing under the arcs of rainbows cutting across the hazy sky, they paid no attention to the man sitting on the stone steps of a run-down church.

I watched him, weary as the crumbling brick and wood structure behind him. One of the smaller stained glass windows was shattered, held together with tape and cardboard. He watched over the children, his long legs reaching down to the pavement. There were more lines on his face than I remembered, a graying at the temples, one of his hands bandaged with gauze. His attention didn’t shift from the children as I approached, letting my feet fall heavier than normal.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

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Finding North Chapter 1 (Wednesday Briefs)

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Welcome to Finding North–my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction. Each week I’ll add more to the story, and share links to other amazing authors who are also participating in this flash fiction group.

Michael North is one of the founding members of Team Zulu–an elite, private military task force. He’s been out of commission for nearly a year after a devastating accident that not only took his leg, but his pride, shattered his sense of self, and sent him tail-spinning into the darkness. Drawn out of his self imposed exile by the other members of his team–the only family he has left. North struggles with finding his place in the world once more, and dealing with the emotions that an old friend brings out.

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Rain was pissing down, unrelenting, soaking through his jacket. Muttering under his breath, North pulled a crumbled piece of paper from his pocket, peering at it in the dim light from a flickering street light. Looked up at the street sign, turned his collar up and slogged along the soggy pavement until he found the correct cross street. Turned down it, and then down the side alley as the note indicated. The bar was tucked away into the side of a building “Last Call Bar” spray painted in tilted black letters on the crumbling brick above a heavy steel door.

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