Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.

Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.

And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.

Select

“It’s all about placement and trimming close to the edge, and I’d like to offer a big shout-out to the membership committee of our club, because their tireless efforts have resulted in a weed-free landscape with no invasives, which is certainly a look that we can be very proud of,” said the golf club chairman, sipping at his glass of water, adjusting his glasses, and ready to go on with his annual state-of-the-club address, when he noticed the audience’s bored expressions had changed to puzzlement.

“You said membership committee, not grounds,” said a portly guy in golf attire at table four, and everyone waited, unsure if they were supposed to be clapping, or not.

the landscape
evolves. But the grass
mown down short
smoothed clean
in the same old-fashioned style
reappears each spring

(Shadorma 107)
8/20/18

Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.

Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.

And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.

Corroboration

Yes, I admit that the child is unique, but how do those parents get away with saying it was divine intervention, when everyone knows it’s the great stork who brings us our children? thought the paragon’s next-door neighbor, wearily herding her three squabbling kids into the crumb-filled minivan. In the distance Mt. Olympus belched out a discreet puff of smoke, but she didn’t see it, occupied by keeping the children from pecking each other.

Alien
they are and so odd
with two hands
grasping eyes
plodding earthbound souls claiming
divine ancestry

(Shadorma 106)
7/26/18

Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.

Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.

And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.

Indifference

Last night I spent a few minutes watching a minute red ant crawling in the bathroom sink, trying angle after angle of approach with a frantic kind of efficiency in his attempts to conquer the gradient and escape, but each time he reached a point where the upward curve grew too steep and he slid back down to the drain: That’s it, that’s your best bet, I told him, go into the drain, you stupid thing, and I went to bed, though as I imagined the dark dank journey into the plumbing, a trip with no clear end to it, I could see why he continued to struggle with the hopelessly smooth slope instead.

This morning I found his small corpse curled in a microscopic ball at the bottom of the sink; I turned on the faucet and washed him down the drain.

The gods laugh.
Your circumstances
and your fate
intersect.
No help is coming. You are
not worth the effort.

(Shadorma 104)
7/17/18

Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.

Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.

And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.

Settlement

Belinda knew Rae Jean looked down on her, but Belinda was her next of kin, her only kin, so she was hoping that Rae would overlook the incident in the school cafeteria and the chair and the chocolate cake, because it happened a very long time ago, and they were just kids, and she had said over and over again how sorry she was, and she sent Rae holiday cards every year and sometimes even a box of fruit and then there were the gift cards on birthdays – anyway, she couldn’t help but hope Rae Jean had remembered her in her will, now that the very well-off lady had finally died, God rest her soul.

In time Belinda’s hopes were granted, and when the package promised by Rae’s lawyer arrived with the long-hoped for inheritance inside, Belinda barely took the time to slam the front door shut before she tore at the box, ripping away bubble wrap and scattering packing peanuts all over the front hall in her haste to arrive at her reward – a slice of chocolate cake, smashed flat.

Old grudges
such pleasurable
luxuries
with price points
to fit any budget. And
they never wear out.

(Shadorma 103)
7/10/18

Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.

Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.

And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.

Divided

I stared down at my dilemma, that boiling mass: would I rather chance an explosion of lava high into the air, or go with that creeping flow that destroys everything in its path until it creeps hissing into the sea?

You may think it’s an easy decision, but being a semi-goddess figure junior grade, well, this is the kind of thing you are asked to decide, and it could mean a lot to my career…I turned the knob on the stove and the burner immediately flared redder; the lid rattled and rice started to pour over the edge of the pot, my goddess moment over and my earthbound housewife persona relishing a moment of chaos before turning the temperature down and reaching for a rag to wipe up the mess.

Volcanic.
Tie on your apron
stir a spoon
through lava
spiked with obsidian rage.
What an elixir.

(Shadorma 102)
6/29/18

Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.

Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.

And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.

Anticlimax

The effects of this substance were terrifying and splendid at the same time, Mrs. Clarndle thought, and it was worth all the risks that she had run to gain possession of three very expensive gallons of the pale blue paint called Spill Your Secrets, the color that now (two coats, applied by brush, not roller, just as the label said) covered her living room walls; yes, dangerous this stuff was, and illegal to use, but the Make It Happen line of paints always lived up to its name and beyond.

Because every person who entered the room did just that, spilled secrets (including the painters, bless them and their worries about receding hairlines), letting some nugget hidden for years, sometimes, present itself for examination – and here Mrs. Clarndle paused to reflect – that is, unless you had no secrets left to tell, which of course included no one, or if you held none that were of any interest – because to her chagrin, her own divulgences just hadn’t seemed to have any shock value at all, with even the minister quite obviously unimpressed, and she was beginning to wonder: Where have I gone wrong in life?

Envious
of other people
and secrets
they must keep
of the white-knuckle thrill ride
of almost telling

(Shadorma 99)
6/25/18