Puns

Hi from The Title Writer’s Club. I am about to tell you about a new and exciting way to write. Write short stories to predetermined titles. A number of years ago, I was taking a writing class here in Minnesota. One of our in-class assignments was to list ten potential…

In the fleeting light they sift the sea for life, Gliding often in twos or threes, I know, And dipping at the moment of the cycle of harvest — For I have seen them on that cycle, opposed. The light does last, as life, over a time Sliding to the…

Greg Dobbs froze as he read the headline a second time. “Last Train to Reno”. Buried deep in the story-line was reference to the sixty-year history of the weekend run from the station in Old Sac up to Reno and back again. Flowing through his mind was the scenic wonder…

Fiction — The old man with the eye patch was coming! My name is Naomi, and my sister is Jacqueline. We were ten and nine years old. To my recall, Mom had never mentioned the man’s name. We had always thought of him as the man with the eye patch. …

Fiction — Monte Belmont was a modern-day cowpuncher. He did not ride the range or sing to his twelve-string just out of the heat of a raging desert campfire. But he did ride herd on the bulls and broncos of today’s farm animal circuit. He was, for a while, a rodeo clown. …

Fiction — OF YOUTH — AGE 15 Flesh was to smash flesh on the West Marble Middle School playground just after 3. Barney (the Bully) Winer hated the sidelong glance Toby Jones gave him leaving lunch and called him out. Now the world awaited, but knew, the outcome. 3:00 P.M. today. It…

Poetry — Two little girls almost ten years old Make a solemn vow- Best friends forever. Exchanging rings they made themselves And two notes of love, They both become Best friends forever. “I will always be around If life becomes too much for you. And you can easily be found If I’m feeling blue. Best friends…

I was still really dizzy and headachy after rolling over three kilometers in my JPL SpaceBall II while landing on Epsilon Eridani b. Part of my disorientation was from the bouncing and spinning to a stop near that small mound of orange dirt I had just jokingly named Eden, and…