Monday Finish the Story – Almost Cries


This is my contribution to this week’s Monday’s Finish the Story from Barbara Beecham – thanks once again Barbara for a great prompt!

The neighbors were not happy with my yard art, but… if they only knew what it meant to me…

“Almost Cries”

I can almost hear their cries
sounding out across the plains
The children of the red earth pleading
begging for a future they will not see
longing for a hunting that will never be
yearning for a freedom a living free
that never shall they ever see
for they are gone,
killed the long way by neglect
and broken promises
their souls now trapped in limbo
waiting to find their peace
I can almost hear their cries
sounding across the plains
no, wait, it is not their cries
but my own I now hear
as their souls speak to mine
And I cry out to all with their pain
hoping that now they’ll listen
that now, they’ll take a stand
prevent another tragedy
cease from creating another
ridge of Ghosts and Spectral Songs
May we mourn for our past
and hope for a new tomorrow
I can almost hear them now
as my body weakens
and I lay down to join them
in the lea of the great rocks.

Starfire McQuinn

C. 2008, All rights reserved.


I apologize for going over, but the words spoken when I wrote this still speak as they were originally written.

FFfAW – Frozen

Thank you to for your public use photos and our prompt photo.

Thank you to for your public use photos and our prompt photo.

IF you want to read more really great short fiction writes, then please, by all means available to you skip over to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers at:  and join in this week’s fun!


I never tire of the view, forever frozen on the screen.

See, time stopped. We all knew it would, and it did. Y2K and all that had been blasting the airwaves for months.

12:00 GMT, January 1, 2000; and every monitor in the world froze. Same Image, same time. The world stopped. We stopped. In a million cities we stared at screens, all with this same serene picture.

Was it heaven? Did the rapture come and leave us behind?

12:00 GMT, January 1, 2007… We’re still here. Same image, same time. Did the rapture come and leave us behind?


Y2K = For those who do not remember, the turn of the millenium was believed to be the end of the computerized world as we knew it. People were in a panic believing that our entire electrical and computer related grids would come to a crashing halt just as ball dropped on the new year 2000.

GMT = Greenwich MeanTime. The clock by which most computers of the era were set by.

Friday Fictioneers – In Between

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast

They found his body.

Well, what was left of his body.

It’s mangled torso was all that remained of the old hobo who frequented the stoop at the end of the boxcar.

“He must have fallen.” The railroad official deduced. “We tell people all the time to stay off the cars.”

The reporter cleared his throat for attention. “But, Sir, these two cars have been locked into place here for over twenty years.”


This is written for Friday Fictioneers, a 100 word writing challenge presented weekly at:  Please, feel free to follow the link for more creative writing fun and festivities.

Storms, Storms, and more Storms on the way….

C. 2015, Starfire McQuinn. All Rights Reserved.

C. 2015, Starfire McQuinn. All Rights Reserved.

These storms are seriously hampering my arting time. With no electric, my studio is just too dark to see to do anything….And, ACH, More storms expected today, only worse storms than yesterday with a definite risk of tornadoes! The weather person this morning was jabbering on about “Super Cell Storm” heading towards us in a few hours.   I’ll be offline, in the dark…


The skies of last eve…. Holes upward to the heavens with internal rotations… God was stirring the pot right over us.


The Story is The Story, or is it?

—© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

—© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“Once upon a time in a land far, far away…”

That’s how the story was supposed to begin, right? Well, it didn’t. So much for fairy tale beginnings… What it should have said was…

Today, right next to her, the world changed. There, now that’s more like it. So, how did that world change? It was all really very simple….

She opened a door.

That door, unbeknownst to her, would lead her into a story that she never would have even have dreamed up. For the door was a portal, and that portal was a door. All things she’d perceived as real were unreal, and all that was unreal was real… That’s how the story was supposed to begin.


If you enjoyed this little story and would like to broaden your horizons by reading other such dazzling tales, then please join all of us out at:

FFAW- Serenity

C. Deborah Miller

Looking at the picture, she couldn’t believe it was so serene a day ago. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue with tiny powder puff clouds. It was surprisingly warm for Spring in the midwest. A welcome relief from winter’s blast. She’d been smiling and  enjoying the wind chimes. A camera flashed; or had it really been a camera, she’d never know for sure. It didn’t matter now, the damage was done.

Beyond the houses, in the small piece of sky she could see, her eyes followed the column of cloud up, up, and up until it branched out like an umbrella, becoming a large mushroom. It’s appearance, the beginning of the end.

It had been all so serene just last week.

C. 2014, Starfire McQuinn. All Rights Reserved.

C. 2014, Starfire McQuinn. All Rights Reserved.

(134 wc, hope that fits within the guidlines, now.)


PHOTO PROMPT © Lauren Moscato

PHOTO PROMPT © Lauren Moscato

I stood on the street corner staring. Impossible, and yet, it was there as sure as anything. It remained, a reminder, a warning. Those who entered through the front door at street level, never left by the side door. People entered the building and never returned. I looked down to the business card in my hand. My appointment time… three minutes from now. I’d never been late for an appointment before…


This is written for Friday Fictioneers, a 100 word writing challenge presented weekly at:  Please, feel free to follow the link for more creative writing fun and festivities.

April Nightmares…

Every April, it seems, I am revisited by the ghosts of days past, storms past, tornadoes past. Every year I hope to be spared, but it’s like my mind has stored this time in my head and will not allow me to forget it.

Nightmare again. Tornado. This time hitting Walton, and on this Thursday of all days. I don’t usually dream about specific dates, but last night, I did.

I’m in a parking lot outside of McD’s right outside the door, my portable Ham radio in hand. I’m looking south-ish over the Kroger’s lot when I see the horizontally twisting clouds forming into a dense pack – Tornado. It’s twisting up into a funnel, it’s vicious finger reaching down, down. It touches Krogers and it explodes. Cars, carts, people, produce… all of it flies up into the sky. Large chunks of concrete walls are spinning through the air. People, screaming and twisting into impossible shapes follow the wicked procession through the spiral. I yell into my radio.

“Callsign”. tornado. walton. tornado. on ground. tornado. buildings demolished. tornado. Mass Casualties. tornado. take cover.

I run inside the restaurant, screaming for everyone to take cover in restrooms. No room left. I return to vestibule, watching the funnel spin down on top of us. Inside the eye for a moment. I hunker down. Repeat call over radio. Tornado on top of us, now. the building begins to scream as pieces and parts explode upward, twisting and spinning along with the bodies of people, bloody bodies, torn bodies. bodies screaming. The air roars. I’m shouting into radio


All is silent. I’m covered in blood. There is nothing left around me. Dead bodies lie scattered amid the debri. People screaming, dying, dead.

I wake, soaked in sweat, my heart pounding, my eyes matted with tears.  I dreamed this last night about two days from now. I just felt it needed to be recorded somewhere. It’s just a dream, I keep telling myself, just a flash back dream….

All is in the beholder’s eye…

DSC_0041 DSC_0155

I took the original picture last year while hiking in a local park. Somehow, the solitary little animal shelter sitting in the middle of the huge meadow that had once been a pasture caught my eye. there was a barbed wire fence, old and rusted, between the park and the meadow. Yesterday, that picture fell out of a book and the inspiration to sketch was not to be denied. The quote was one that I had written on the back of the photo.

I wonder what tales this little shed could tell. Who built it, and how long ago? Being a writer, a dozen tales are swimming around in my head. Maybe someday, I’ll use the inspiration in a story.


Beginning the journey….

If you’re interested in Art Journaling on the go, then check out my other page…

Junker's Junkie Art Journal


This is the new junkie sketchbook I  just received in the mail this week. It is a gift from an anonymous friend. I’m looking forward to filling it with lots of arty things. Sketches, collages, pen and ink… generally whatever flips my bill for the day. The ribbons have been tied to make a very nice little carry handle, so I will be able to drag it along (not literally) wherever I go. So, let the journey begin….

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