Sickbed Confessions – By Kate Bellomy

Each wheeze and cough that came from my mother made me cringe. I ached when I looked at this once beautiful woman; a woman who fought my battles, who protected me, who showed me the ways of life, who taught me how to be a person in this world, and who was once so strong, and now was now so weak and losing her battle against cancer. I fought back the tears when I looked into her aqua eyes and wondered when they would shut for good. When I got the news of my mother’s illness, I left my life in Chicago and moved back to live out the rest … Read more…

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Madness in 500 words or less

Our challenge this weekend was to write about madness in 500 words or less.  Here’s my shot at Madness.  Tell me what you think! MOUNTAIN MADNESS We live alone in this empty valley, surrounded by the mountains that hide us and hold us as captives. Mama used to say that those mountains made the wind. She said if I listened, I could hear them breathe.  “Watch,” Mama’d say, “and you’ll see the sun melt the snow and feel the cool breezes that fill the valley and it’s that wind,” Mama said, “that makes those trees knock on our windows with their knuckled little branches.” In the morning we’d stand outside … Read more…

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Writing Prompts for the Flying M-Inklings

Our writing prompt this week was a challenge.  Every day we’ll be posting a new response to the following prompt: First line: Manipulating people is so easy. I almost stopped doing it; almost. In the text: I can’t help it. I lie all the time. Last line: Sometimes it’s best not to go home again Our next submission is from Brandon Paul.  Let us know what you think!     Manipulating people is so easy, I almost stopped doing it. Almost, but I didn’t. After the car accident that changed my face, it changed my thinking too. I realized that there isn’t anything I didn’t want. There isn’t anything I can’t have … Read more…

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Microbiology for Writers

Right now, your cells are dividing and multiplying.  They are tirelessly synthesizing protein and breaking down waste.  Right now, your cells are working on a masterpiece and, from one writer to another, this prompts me to ask:  shouldn’t you be doing the same? Inside your cells are microscopic structures called organelles.  They each have a specific function that is needed to help a cell survive and thrive.  As writers, we have the same features.  We may not call them organelles and they may not be tangible objects, but they do work in similar ways.  They are the tool box that we must have to function as a writer.   Cell … Read more…

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Helminthes*

With the light came the sound of the church bells.  The distant clang rose alongside the sun and the birds, like tiny, hungry angels, began to sing. People came from miles around.  Wagons rolled in on wooden wheels pulled by sleek strong ponies.  Farmers laid down tools; hunters returned their guns to the brackets on their walls. Women in bonnets and girls in calico dresses stepped down from carriages in their patent leather shoes.  The ground trembled slightly with all of the excitement. The sound of the bells continued.  Black and gray birds swept the sky, directing attention to the white church steeple; confetting the air with joyous wings and … Read more…

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The Starless

In what was assumed to be the terrible silence of space, the world searched for a source.  Using more than scientific equipment; using stories and heavenly signs, the world ‘found’ a creator.  It was not a man or a woman or some alien being, but an awareness; an invisible force that was said to rotate the globe and warm the lands. Questions were asked and eventually an effort was made to explain how life began.  It was decided by some that something or someone must be responsible for the conception of a planet.  It had to be this voiceless unknown that gave pure mystery a grounding.  It gave speculation a … Read more…

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Books Were Made for Lovers

Is it just me or can you relate to this? Have you ever felt happiness well up in your chest when you find out that one of your favorite authors has a new book coming out? Do you ever feel like that or is it just me? I can tell you that my chest fills with heartache. Not heart break, but heartache. Yes, joyous, bursting heartache! I can’t wait to rush out and find the beautiful book on a bookstore shelf and take the copy that sits in the very back, way behind the other copies. I want the one book that hasn’t been picked up by some ignorant person, … Read more…

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Body is a Factory, Where is the Soul?

I sit in my class and listen to the professor talk about the heart. Not in a romantic sort of way, but as an organ; as a pump. His words are flat and technical as they pass by me but I try to grab them, I try to hold on to them as they drift up, over my head. “About every 60 seconds, your entire blood supply will pass through your heart,” the instructor says, turning toward the white board. I can tell he has repeated this story too many times. There is no inflection in his tone, no excitement in his voice as he says, “Blood moves quickly from … Read more…

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Crab Legs & Spider Legs

At the grocery store today, over by the meat case, I stood looking at the bounty of seafood on sale. My eyes ran along the selection as I considered the possibilities for our evening meal. The shrimp were all there, pink and fresh and posing in a frozen curl on their sheet of ice. White fish fillets and red lobster tails lay in perfect rows under the glass but the overhead lights directed my attention to the largest display in the case. Alaskan Crab Legs, the little tag in the window announced along with a price that was too expensive for my wallet. I felt my stomach growl just a … Read more…

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A Benediction for Writers

Do not scatter your thoughts like marbles in the hall. Stay aware of your life and do not tell yourself that there is time for writing tomorrow… No, Write now! Spend time writing everyday. Don’t let your hours slip by without feeling the pen press against paper or without letting your fingers move over the keyboard. Take time everyday to express your thoughts, even if you are just describing the color of your room or the way the afternoon air tastes to your skin. Tell yourself that you can write and then do it, every day. In the book Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg writes, This is the practice … Read more…

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