Stasis #amwriting

You could say that I’ve learned my lesson. Just post. Don’t pause.


Today I knitted hats.

Three while bingeing on Netflix. Continue reading


Don Quixote and the Goddess #amwriting

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Many thanks to Rochelle as always for hosting the Friday Fictioneers.

Continue reading

All The Plans That Came Undone #amwriting

There are two sides to every story, every relationship. Ms. Maggie McConnell, romance author extraordinaire asked about Bill’s side of the story in reference to yesterday’s Cradle Broken Glass, which told JJ’s side. If you write about relationships, you know that it’s really easy to write one side, but what about the other? Well, dang, it’s a little lot harder. 🙂 Here’s Bill’s.

Oh, and it continues yesterday’s theme of songs with “black” in the title.

ps Maggie has an upcoming guest post later this week talking about one of our favorite topics after Snooty and the Book Cover… covers! Continue reading

The End of the World as We Know It–Y is for Yucky #AtoZchallenge #amwriting




The “oh” escaped my lips, high-pitched, definitely surprised.

Alecia smiled, nodding. “I know, right?” she said. “I’m as shocked as you are.”

Nowhere near.

I looked at Jason who wouldn’t meet my eyes. Alecia captured my hands in hers and jumped up and down just like we used to do when we were teenagers. I was supposed to do it too, jump up and down and screech because she was engaged to Jason, my Jason. My stomach did, however–bounce up and down as if on a nausea-inducing carnival ride.

“I’m happy, so happy for you,” I said, meaning it, for Alecia.

She frowned. “You don’t look well.”

“I’m feeling kind of yucky,” I said. “You know, hanging around preschoolers five days a week, constantly catching something.”

She hugged me, preschooler ailments be damned. “We’ll celebrate when you’re feeling better.”

Which felt like it might be when hell froze over, but I kept that to myself. I wouldn’t let her get hurt, even if my insides felt like they might explode. I glanced at Jason once more, met his eyes, and my imagined preschooler sickness grew in leaps and bounds and hopscotched around and suddenly my life felt like an REM song and I felt not so fine.


end 4/29/2017

S. Darlington

Sisters — V is for Vengeful #AtoZchallenge #amwriting




We each have our own truth.

I thought I knew you well enough so our truths overlapped often to become one truth.

And, yet, here I am, amidst the wreckage of your vendetta: ripped memories, broken souvenirs, walls stained with graffiti, realizing I did not understand that it wasn’t truth you were seeking nor justice in the way I understand it. Rather, you sought vengeance because I was born at all.


end 4/26/2017

S. Darlington

The Recipe for Enduring Romantic Relationships #NaPoWriMo #AMWRITING

Day 2 of NaPoWriMo. 

Prompt: Today, I’d like you to write a poem inspired by, or in the form of, a recipe! It can be a recipe for something real, like your grandmother’s lemon chiffon cake, or for something imaginary, like a love potion or a spell.recipe


The Recipe for Enduring Romantic Relationships


Begins with Lust

(I hear dismay

“Yours is different;

“Love from mutual respect”

excuse me while I roll my eyes

glance at my shoe ties


Lust, more than a pinch

to build cravings

for kisses, time alone misses.

After Lust throw in Like

a generous helping

for growth during lulls

so dull does not rise

discovering infinite mutuality

Liking leads to Respect

much more than a pinch

pause, see what I did here?

Combine, stir. A cup of Loyalty

treat each other like royalty

bind together, support

add significant amounts of Humor

Laugh together daily

Stir, stir. Each day offer Kindness

Remember Compassion.

Sometimes the recipe needs WORK

Of this do not be afraid, do not fail here.

The four letter word balances

the see-saw of relationship

Work and Love combined equals

a foolproof recipe.


end 4/2/2017

S. Darlington

Last Straw


PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

Thanks to Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers for hosting. If you’d like to participate, visit here.

For more stories, visit here.

Last Straw


He’s packing.

Her tears add salt to the sauce she stirs.

He lingers in the doorway, watching, his suitcase a burden.

She averts her face, hiding red eyes.


Snow hugs the window ledge, inches already, so silent. Last year they constructed a snowman that melted the next day.


“Maybe you shouldn’t go yet. The storm,” she says.

“Maybe you’re right. I mean, if it’s okay.”


Their eyes engage, briefly. She stares at her sauce, he at his shoes.


“I can be an idiot,” he confesses. She smiles. “Me, too.”


She extends the spoon to him for a second opinion.


end 2/24/2017 (99 words)

S. Darlington




For Sunday Photo Fiction, November 6


You see just a damaged chunk of stone. You explain the geology, the fine scientific facts. How heat  causes structural damage. How wind and rain erode. How time is the enemy to even the strongest substances.

When I look at the pedestal, cracked, injured, and the fallen curled arch broken, all I see is us.



S. Darlington

To read other offerings for Sunday Photo Fiction, click here.