The Word Worker

Tag: Fiction

  • The Corner

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    It wasn’t beautiful, the corner of Cedar and Walnut. In fact, whatever planner decided to name the streets after trees must of have had some twisted sense of humor. No forest could have less to do with the dirty, dingy gray of metal and concrete. Despite uninviting appearances, the bench at the corner was always…

  • Stories With Kids

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    (I’d like to thank my kids for their contributions to this week’s prompted flash fiction. Sometimes the real life conversations are far funnier than any story I can come up with.” “Hey, kids, y’all wanna give me story ideas? They have to connect to this lighthouse picture.” “Me, me, me! Let me see the picture!…

  • A Sneak Peek and a Sale

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    _United_, Book 2 of Magicborn, is officially in progress. Because you are my most loyal supporters, I am giving you a rare sneak peek into the first draft of my process. Very few people get to see anything this early, partly because it is mostly bare bones of story waiting to be fleshed out and…

  • The Farm

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    It had been there for 200 hundred years, looking exactly the same. Just another farm, with a neat farmhouse and barn. Everyone joked about cows in the house and family in the barn, because of the chimneys, but no one had ever thought much more about it. Which I guess was strange in itself, now…

  • Christmas Train

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    The whistle blew, a cheery sound in the crisp air. Even the steam from the pipe crystallized into gray mist that blended with the distant mountain peaks. The world around lay white and silent, the train with its crimson cars and bright window frames a brilliant spot of color. Inside the warm cars passengers laughed…

  • The Gates

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    Sasha loved the Gates. They were older than memory or record, if the old ones could be believed, though they showed no sign of age. Unlike the longhouse built around them, the burnished wood of which had grayed and rotted several times even in her short lifespan. She ran a hand over the stone, soaking…

  • Shadow

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    She touched the red leaves, just a brush as light as breath that left them trembling in the reflection from the crystal. They were the only color in the pitch black tent, tiny sparks accentuating the crystal’s glow. It was all an illusion, of course. The light absorbent black drapes lining the inside of the…

  • The Edge

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    They called it The Edge. In reality it was a dam, the greatest feat of engineering ever achieved. The power of the great glacier harnessed, tamed, to do man’s bidding. To him it was more. The wars of the twenty-third century had left scars upon the fertile equator and stripped the temperate plains to desert.…

  • The Bells

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    They rang out across the water, a symphony of sound in chiming echoes down the brick-lined canal. The bells of Bruges, incongruously peeling out disco music to peal against medieval facades, held me captive. Even the cafe goers across the canal left their sedate mugs and tables to dance with abandon. Invisible behind those ancient…

  • The Creek

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    It wasn’t there before. I was sure of it. The tumbledown cottage was just barely visible over the creekbank, granted, and the trees were only recently bare. I might have missed it if I wasn’t paying attention. Still, that roof had to have been falling in for years to reach its current state, and I…