Category Archives: Stories

Dearest Reader

Dearest Reader,

Whilst I am indeed euchred I felt that I owed it to you to pen this tale before I succumb to sleep’s waiting embrace.  I couldn’t cheat you out of it after all this time.

As you know, gentle reader, I have searched far and wide for the specimen we refer to as a perfect man.  A theory had begun to take shape that no such thing existed.  Well, I have to report to you that just last week I found one that may prove to be perfect at long last.  Granted, I only have a cluster of experiences to base this on, but he is looking promising.

Devoted reader, you must believe me when I say that he is intelligent and charming.  He is funny, sexy and kind.  I know, I know it sounds impossible but he is an animal lover and has told me great tales of his protection and support of women and children.  In fact he doesn’t even consider us as a “weaker sex”, he views women as equal to men, NAY, superior to men! 

I’m cognizant that it appears I’m being taken for a ride, so I shall keep my head on a swivel to ensure that I am not being snookered and in turn deceiving you dear reader. 

Did I mention that at the lightest touch from him my senses runaway from me? My pulse quickens and my cheeks flush red as a ripe strawberry.  My temperature rises when I feel his smoldering gaze upon me.  He is every good part of every man rolled into one, he is sex personified….ahem, pardon me gentle reader, as I contain myself. 

Anyway, as I was saying, it will (I assure you) be my pleasure to spend as much time as necessary with him to verify a valid conclusion. I’ll report back with my findings.  Don’t be alarmed if it takes a while.

Yours truly,

Mythomane

 

~Melanie Thomason

1/20/2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FYI:

Euchred- utterly done in or at the end of one’s tether; exhausted.
Mythomane- a person with a strong or irresistible propensity for fantasizing, lying, or exaggerating.

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Partners

The scroll of the screen continued even after she closed her eyes.  It was exhausting looking for someone who apparently had no desire to be found.  Holly never wanted to see him again but find him she must.  She knew that it was the only way to put an end to this madness once and for all. 

Holly had left him and had every reason to be in hiding so why was he now missing?  She had lived in fear of him and was sure that he would find her…so imagine her surprise when it was the police who came knocking.  Now they were looking at her as a suspect, as if she had done something to him!

Apparently, Jake’s friends and family had painted a very different picture of the relationship, one where Jake was as pure as the driven snow and she was the vile and abusive one. Holly had to give it to him…he had found a new way to hurt her after all.  It was surreal hearing this version of events and Holly couldn’t believe they were ALL lying for him. 

Thank goodness for Detective Anne Sloan, she was the one person who seemed to believe Holly’s side of things.  Together the two women were searching for Jake among the living, while everyone else was looking for a body and proof of a murder.  Holly knew two things for sure: Jake was alive and she was not going to let him get away with this.

 

~Melanie Thomason

01/19/2020

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Lillian

Lillian maintained her sanity by reading and writing.  Granted reading the same shelf of books over and over again had gotten old a long time ago…so now she was reading them backwards to shake things up a bit and keep her mind sharp.  What else can one do when there is no tv, no computer, no phone, no radio and no one else around?

So she reads and she writes and writes and writes.  At first she wasted paper but now she compresses everything and uses all available space.

She writes from corner to corner, across margins, front and back.  After all she doesn’t have an unlimited supply of paper and who knows when or if more will be provided.  So Lillian has started writing smaller and smaller until her handwriting is as neat as a font and barely legible without a magnifying glass.  But no matter, who will ever read any of it anyway?

Yet she writes and in between her poetry, ramblings and stories she makes sure to write to him every day.  Maybe just maybe he will read them one day and know that she loved him, always.

 

~Melanie Thomason

1/13/2020

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Ethan

Ethan was having a hard time holding his tongue.  He’d been holding it for about 20 years already and he knew if he started speaking his mind things would go to shit quickly.  He took an angry drag from his cigarette instead and slowly exhaled.  Rather than looking at his father as he continued his tirade, about how he was wasting his life and would never amount to anything, he focused on his reflection in the hallway mirror.  He was looking kind of haggard and could definitely use a shave.  He didn’t need to listen as he’d heard it all before and his art was not a waste of time no matter what the old man thought.

If he could just maintain his poise and deal with his thoughts alone he knew he could wait this out.  “Alone,” Ethan thought, “well that’s the rub isn’t it?  I’ve always been alone.” Growing up with no mother and a negligent father had made sure of that.  His father had never had time for him, never taken an interest really until now that he was softly knocking on death’s door.  Ethan knew that as an only child, he was set to inherit everything if he could just keep his damn mouth shut.

Not that he cared about the grand old house or the fancy cars… he would sell those off.  He just wanted the funds so that he could finally really search for her.  If he could only find her, he was sure she could untangle at least some of the lies he had been fed his entire life.  He had never met his Aunt Katrina but he was sure she could tell him the truth about his mother.  He had quietly been searching for her, with his limited resources, without his father finding out but so far there were no traces of her.  Ethan had to know what happened, it was imponderable to him that his mother had simply left him there and never looked back.

He had been so lost in thought that he didn’t even realize that his father had come to an end of his scintillating monologue and was impatiently awaiting a response until he heard, “Ethan!” “You worthless shit, I asked you a question, have you even been listening?”  Ethan looked at his father blankly and lit another cigarette.

~Melanie Thomason

01/13/2020

 

Wordle 163.png

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Spring Cleaning- a short story

 

As Jason was cleaning out the hall closet he recognized her scarf there on the floor in the back corner.  He didn’t think there were any  of her things left.  With a muffled sob he picked it up, intending to throw it in the “to donate” box, but he found himself holding it to his face breathing in the faint smells of honeysuckle and of her that still clung to the crimson fabric.  He knew at once that he must preserve this last indelible piece of her.  Jason tiptoed into his studio so that his new bride wouldn’t hear and placed the scarf in a plastic bag so as to contain the wonderful scent.  He looked around for a place to hide it away from prying eyes. His studio was filled with her.  The sadness that was always simmering under the surface came bubbling up and he allowed himself to cry just a little for his lost love.  His gaze flitted from portrait to portrait and even to his clumsy attempt to carve her beauty in alabaster and then he saw it.  He affixed her scarf to the back  of the last photograph he taken of her, he had had it blown up and printed on canvas, it was perfect as was she.

~Melanie Thomason

1/12/2020

 

Image by Florin Radu from Pixabay

 

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a conversation

“Take the gun.  Better to have it and not need it…”

She shook her head no, as she sharpened her knife and slipped it back into her pocket.  “You know I detest violence, but a girl does have to defend herself.”

“Well, until something drastic happens in this world to change things, it is never safe out there.  Especially alone.  Especially at night. Especially if you are a woman.”

“Exactly right.  I’ll call you when I get there so you can stop worrying.”

“I’ll never stop worrying cause you, my love, were born a girl.”

~Melanie Thomason

7/5/19

 

 

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Exit…

A magical, beautiful short story by the fabulous Gigi!

Rethinking Life

Galaxy, Starry Sky, Trees, Away

She grew up, playing in the forest.  She knew all the animals, and often slept surrounded by rabbits, squirrels, and birds.  The forest was beautiful during the sunny days of spring and summer.  Cooler during blustery fall.  When cold winter stopped by, she curled up in tree trunks and pressed against larger animals to stay warm, sleeping on and off, until the days grew longer and warmer.  She trilled with birds and nukked, nukked to stags.  She was happy.  The stream was cold and clean, the berries abundant.  She ate what the animals did, only getting sick, every now and then.

She danced and climbed trees, until she grew much older and stayed longer on the ground, until she rarely slept in the branches, any longer.  She tended the wounded, and buried the dead.  She was one with nature.  She never saw another animal who looked the way she did. …

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Harry

Image by suju from Pixabay

He was the kinda hare that made all the bunnies blush.

~Melanie Thomason

4/15/19

 

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