Blink|Ink

Nightly

LynnAlexander — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 00:38:06 +0000

Somewhere around one a.m. he always seemed concerned, looking at his hands as if something were missing. Some ambiguous idea or mission- maybe a breast as he breathed in hair from behind, or scissors to trim the curls that frilled around his hat. But every one a.m., something was missing.

Zack Moll

Rehearsal

LynnAlexander — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 00:29:48 +0000

“Greg’s dead.” Helen put her violin on the table.
“He blackmailed you?” Bernard asked.
“Yes, he knew I killed Dad.” Helen ripped a string from the violin.
“But … locked in a freezer!” Bernard exclaimed.
“Justice!” Helen reached for Bernard.
He bashed her with his trombone.

Joanna M. Weston

clod

LynnAlexander — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 00:01:16 +0000

We’re licking nectar from honeysuckles. Beyond the fence cattle are watching us.
“Are we intruding?” I wonder aloud.

You pick up a dirt clod and hurl it at the one nearest us, hitting it on the side.
“Why’d you do that?” I almost ask. I choose to keep silent instead.

offbeatjim wittenberg

The Cropduster’s Dream

LynnAlexander — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 02:40:59 +0000

He wants to quit the collections business, open a boutique bake-beanery, but his wife won’t get behind it. Always the money, he says, and sighs.

Mark Reep

Train Ride

LynnAlexander — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 02:32:10 +0000

I don’t remember his name. It may be that I never knew it, but we sat together the entire ride. His thoughts were of his late wife; a series of faded, yellow newspaper memories. I stared at the green lawns, dreaming of old friends, praying he wouldn’t speak or cry.

Lew Kahler

And Some Wore Pants

LynnAlexander — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 02:29:17 +0000

An historic romance in fiction: my ancestor Joan D’Arc when asked if Saint Michael is dressed when he visits or naked answered, “Do you think God can’t find him clothes?”

Gabriel Orgrease

Solstice

LynnAlexander — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 01:56:34 +0000

Like his father before him, on the full moon, he buried two swords—both blades pointing to the stars. He waited, the music came, and he saw her, beckoning him to the place where the forest had become an ocean of blue light and the waves were calling his name.

Christina Murphy

Jerry, Now

LynnAlexander — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 01:36:16 +0000

In a persistent vegetative state since that unfortunate cow-tipping mishap, Jerry dreams of hooves: always, only of hooves.

Tommy Mac

Spiked Punch

LynnAlexander — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:15:26 +0000

He promised us he would bring change, said that we can’t lose hope, but me and my brothers have noticed things are getting worse—especially at home. With too much time on broke hands, we decided to spike dad’s cool-aid and ask for his car keys once he started to stutter.

Erin Cole

Nova Super Sport

LynnAlexander — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 00:07:40 +0000

The EMTs pried their blackened bodies from the twisted, bullet-riddled wreckage. Some cop said later that he’d overheard his final words, “You know I’d do the whole thing over just to be with you.”

Tommy Mac