Welcome to the free stuff page! Here will be free reads, excerpts from works in progress, and possibly (in the future) downloads of interview, storyteller stories, trailers, or whatever else comes along.
Here’s a short piece I completed as a writing exercise during the 2010 Summer Retreat – more details at http://denverfictionwriters.com. This was for a writing prompt that called for describing your surroundings, touching on all the senses. One could do so from your own point of view, or from that of a character. I hope you can tell which one I did.
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It’s cold, bitterly cold in the mountains. There’s not much air at 12,000 feet. I never think there’s enough air anywhere, but this is worse. I’m trapped here.
The house is decorated in what I can only describe as Lodge Lite, without the overpowering antler fetish but including plenty of wood and stone. Low windows let in air that smells of pine and frustrated tourist traps. Ski season doesn’t start for months.
People come and go, bringing different music and different voices, none of which I can respond to. I don’t enjoy music anymore.
I can lay hands on these people, each with their own texture, but they cannot feel me. Honeymooners smell sweet, sound anxious and feel soft and unformed in their newness. The weekend rockers, in for the festivals, exude pot smoke, and their hair feels crispy. Sometimes they stare right at me, but they aren’t really seeing me. Just like I’m not really seeing them.
I’ve been dead here for six months.
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