Shrouded Veil

New flash story up at Everyday Weirdness today:

Shrouded Veil

I hope you enjoy.

Comments

Unknown said…
Congrats, Paula... You're getting around with the flashes. Very cool. Will head over there now...
June 2, 2010 at 12:05 AM
Kara McElhinny said…
Paula, I don't know how you do it lady. Amazing story. I love the way you use words for your style, I wish I was inside your head so I can examine, but reading is always enough for me. :D

Hope you're well...
June 2, 2010 at 8:28 AM
Michael Solender said…
Great piece Paula, very creative love the 2% mother.
June 6, 2010 at 4:16 PM
Ethel Rohan said…
Paula, I'm so happy to read your work and witness your wonderful imagination flow. Where do you get these fabulous photographs? Stunning.
June 8, 2010 at 7:06 PM
Cate Gardner said…
Painful and beautiful.
June 10, 2010 at 2:54 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

# Friday Flash - 2

Image
Speck of Light By: Paula Ray 848 words “The thing is: you’ve got to write something light during dark times. Everyone’s sick of hearing depressing news. What people want is an escape.” “I don’t write fluff.” “It isn’t fluff. It’s a gift.” Steve leaned forward in his executive chair and turned a family photo around so Stella could see it. He pointed to an old man in a fishing cap. “See that man?” “Yeah.” “That’s the smartest man I’ve ever known, my grandfather. He had a saying that has stuck with me for life and it’s true.” Stella rolled her eyes and sighed then cocked her head to listen. “People will always be happy to see you. They’ll be happy to see you come or to see you go and it’s up to you to decide which kind of person you want to be.” She smiled. “That’s pretty good.” “Yes, it is.” Steve gave her a toothy grin. “I think the same philosophy applies to music.” “What do you mean?” “The world has enough songs about how hard life is. The songs that often...
Read more

Cleaning the Attic

Image
Renovating my blog has been a bit like cleaning out the attic. I remember being the one who had to go up the attic stairs to bring down the holiday decorations. Sometimes, I would sneak up there and play with old toys or thumb through things I made in grade school and laugh at how clumsily they were made or how poorly they were written. I cherished the things I had saved for sentimental reasons and took great care when handling them. It never failed, everytime I ventured up into the attic, it always took me longer to get the job done than I anticipated, because I was so easily distracted by memories. Well, I discovered a feature on blogspot that allows you to create pages for your blog and I thought this would be a good thing to do and move my poem and story links to their own page with more room for descriptions and possibly teasers. I started this endeavor...thinking...oh, this will be a snap...I'll knock it out in a jiffy. Oh no, I discovered I have links that no longe...
Read more

Childhood is a Shadow

Image
I wish I could stab my childhood with my finger and poke it in the chest...tell it to go to its room and not come out until it's ready to apologize and mean it, but instead I sit smack dab in the middle of my NOW (adult life) and watch it run around me like a hyper puppy...as if I'm a coffe table collecting dust and empty bottles and it's pissing on my carpet and chewing the legs on my furniture...teething...always teething. How long will I give my past permission to ramble through my trash and string it all over the floor and bark at all my guests before I put it outside? Show it who is boss once and for all. Every time I turn around I'm tripping over it. It's stays on my heels. When is it going to grow up and lie on the porch and let me scratch it behind the ears and feel some sense of comfort in the act? This week...I hit the wall...you know the proverbial barricade of memories that boxes us in on all sides. I'm too old for this...I should be stronger t...
Read more