wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: August 2009
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2009_08_01_archive.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Saturday, August 22, 2009. Ending #1 to THE DOOR OF IMMORTALITY. The boy pleaded, now sounding alarmed like there was nothing he could do to stop her. "Don't go in, mom! Marijka paused from pulling the door open. She tilted her head a little and asked, "What? The boy was silent, and Marijka shuddered as the melody came on her hard, tinkling a depressing tune as to lure her in. She turned all the way around to meet the boy's cautious stare. What did you just say?
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: Silent Moments
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2010/12/silent-moments.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Tuesday, December 28, 2010. After 40 years, the Whispering Oaks Cemetery still looked the same, despite the few additions. The caretaker was always kept busy, pulling weeds, nursing flowers, trimming the grass, pruning bushes, raking, and dusting off each and every headstone, so it looked more like a garden than a graveyard. It was late April, and the daisies were in full bloom, adding life among the dead. What do you mean? 8221; Dan asked blankly. Dan knew this hea...
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: January 2010
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2010_01_01_archive.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Sunday, January 24, 2010. The sun was high overhead, baking the dry earth with an abundance of calidity. My bonnet was soaked with perspiration, and my stay and petticoat were also drenched. I wondered when my next bath would be. Mother said I could upgrade my bathing days, but I asked myself if that meant I would only get three per month. I stared out over our new, weed-free land. Only the soil and rocks remained. Except—. I squinted. A stick, perhaps as long a...
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: July 2009
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Friday, July 31, 2009. Welcome, you guys. This blog will be for my short stories and poems ONLY. If you are looking for my other blog, please go to www.hobobecca.blogspot.com. Please feel free to scorn or compliment my work, to rate it out of 5 stars or to totally roll your eyes and spit on the computer screen. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). There was an error in this gadget. Beauty - Robin McKinley. Bridge to Terabithia - Katherine Paterson. East - Edith Pattou.
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: October 2009
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2009_10_01_archive.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Friday, October 23, 2009. The street lamps were the only source of light glowing off the uneven streets. Each dreary-looking suburban house had the curtains pulled or the shutters closed. It was an unusually warm night, and the breeze could not be felt; although the leaves on the trees twitched and the grass shuddered quietly. The silence was almost unnatural. Even the steady chirp of the crickets was absent. The car stayed parked in front of the house - the engine ...
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: Untitled
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2010/03/small-man-stepped-into-building-feeling.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Friday, March 12, 2010. The small man stepped into the building, feeling the gentle, cool air drying his sweat from the heat of the day. His skin was pale, and his ashen hair was balding. He wore an everyday office suit; Washington Black, with a plain burgundy tie and a clean white shirt. He had evidently primped himself up for the occasion he had arrived for. 8220;Who is the deceased? 8221; he urged. The mortician walked Randall to the door. Randall was still e...
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: December 2010
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2010_12_01_archive.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Tuesday, December 28, 2010. After 40 years, the Whispering Oaks Cemetery still looked the same, despite the few additions. The caretaker was always kept busy, pulling weeds, nursing flowers, trimming the grass, pruning bushes, raking, and dusting off each and every headstone, so it looked more like a garden than a graveyard. It was late April, and the daisies were in full bloom, adding life among the dead. What do you mean? 8221; Dan asked blankly. Dan knew this hea...
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: September 2009
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Saturday, September 19, 2009. One moment, the ashen earth was still, not even the rustle of the bushes or the birds’ mournful chirps. Then, the deep cinereal clouds opened up and, drop by drop, droplets of water began to patter what was left of the lifeless wasteland. From a jagged rock clinging to the steep mountain, lay a pitiful young women, alive but barely. Crusted blood coated her scarred hands, and a patch of her auburn hair was charred and shriveled. Just th...
wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com
Becca's Writing Blog: November 2009
http://wackywriterbecca.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html
Her Attempts at Writing Short Fiction. Sunday, November 22, 2009. Edited version of A VISITOR AT DAWN. The sanguine sun was just rising up over the hills, bathing the frosted earth in soft sunlight. I found this rather aggravating. How could nature continue its course, oblivious to the harm that was about to come to it? But then I paused, and realized that I would not be as confident as I was now if it were not for the faith that the earth had in me. The sun passed behind a dark cloud threatening to stor...
