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Tag: death

A Plan

"She's dead," Uncle Duncan said. Maya threw the mug of cider at her uncle's head. Duncan dodged. "You think I don't fucking know that!" she yelled at Duncan. "I was there, idiot!" "Maya," her father said sternly. "You're not a drunken sailor." Maya took a deep breath and paced the room. She glared at Duncan. … Continue reading A Plan

Posted on August 30, 2022November 20, 2022 by Cynthia PraskiPosted in Dragon Walk, SerialTagged death, hope, war. Leave a comment

Cliff Hanger

Maya went out to the great hall to check on her orchestra of servants. Her opus was beautiful, and her guests had plenty of drink and devoured their penultimate course. She leaned against the wall at the back of the hall for a moment of rest. The yells popped in her ears, and people bumped … Continue reading Cliff Hanger

Posted on August 25, 2022November 20, 2022 by Cynthia PraskiPosted in Dragon Walk, Serial, SoCTagged betrothal, death, murder. Leave a comment

Keep it Casual

I spun the shot glass on the bar. My phone was also on the bar, face up. I had left the dance floor because the music was too loud to even recognize it as music. The decibels were lower here and only a few patrons sat. "It's not a toy," the bartender said. She held … Continue reading Keep it Casual

Posted on February 8, 2022 by Cynthia PraskiPosted in February Flash!Tagged #FlashFictionFeb, death, deity. Leave a comment

An OK Day

She had almost missed it. She was looking at the gray sky when she’d put out her hand to open the shiny glass door. She’d glanced at the plants in the flower boxes as she always had over the multitude of unchanging days. Today hidden within the subtle variations of sable were pops of red. … Continue reading An OK Day

Posted on November 20, 2021November 20, 2021 by Cynthia PraskiPosted in Fiction, SoCTagged #SOCS, death, life, love, mourning, SoC, SOCS. 1 Comment

When I’m Old

When I’m old, I’ll let my hair grow long and I won’t ever dye it again. I’ll buy a motorcycle. My tresses will be at mid-thigh when I put on my aqua pants and magenta leather jacket. I’ll cram my helmet atop my head and yell, “Weehoo!” as I jump on my bike. I’ll fly … Continue reading When I’m Old

Posted on November 15, 2021November 15, 2021 by Cynthia PraskiPosted in Fiction, Flash FictionTagged age, death, dementia, freedom. Leave a comment

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