Hay in a Needlestack

Eloise creeped carefully down the hallway, her small feet filling the width of each board as she avoided the cracks. She could hear the thump, thump, thump of Lady Gladdis searching the halls. Frantically, Eloise ran into the library looking for a place to hide. In swift movement she ran and ducked behind the couch….

How the Snow Began

Come and listen to the tale of how the snow began how the stars turned night to white and fell into your hand     From her perch on top of her hut in her little Alaskan village, Ila stared into the northern night, tracing the stars with her fingertips.  She could taste the salty…

Say Something

Realism is minute; it is the drama of a broken teacup, the tragedy of a walk down the block, the excitement of an afternoon call, the adventure of an invitation to dinner. -Frank Norris,  A Plea for Romantic Fiction (1901)   “Can I sit here?” she asked, blue eyes batting. He looked up, “of course.”…