http://slow.writerscafe.org/pixiestyx17 The original writings of author Susan M en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775986575 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The second big project for my writing fiction class. Some elements are real. Edited on 11/25/12. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/1069252/ This was an assignment for my Writing Fiction class: The last line of dialogue is the last line of "The Sirens" by Franz Kafka. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/1057986/ This is my writing class midterm. Update: I wrote an alternate ending for another class assignment. I like it better, so here it is. Bon appetit! I mean ... happy reading! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/1051034/ Another exercise for a writing class. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/1051033/ Synesthesia exercise. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/1051032/ Written in about 20 minutes for a contest. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/736079/ A villanelle, written for class. It needs serious help. It reads more like a church service, which is pretty much the opposite of what I was shooting for. Any suggestions? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/735804/ Creative non-fiction for my creative writing portfolio. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/735794/ Another class exercise. We had to write a poem about something we know. I know bacteria. Enjoy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/726378/ An exercise from my writing class. We had to write a story based on a bumper sticker slogan. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/726375/ A poem for my creative writing portfolio. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/726372/ This is the main piece for my creative writing portfolio. I welcome any and all critiques. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/726368/ Yet another vampire story. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/376781/ My 12 year old daughter suggested the title. Clever, isn't she? Revised in Creative Writing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/330360/ The poor, simple creature sat sulking under a philodendron, muttering to herself, “Ber o shar, Suuuusan.  O'jh kaer os!”² An hour later, I parted the leaves to check on her and she leapt to her feet and shrieked, “Ai eis ei mori!  Ai tal kal shoraer os shael.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/255533/ I don't usually write poetry and this is my first attempt at sestinas. Sestinas follow a strict pattern of the repetition of the initial six end-words of the first stanza through the remaining five six-line stanzas, culminating in a three-line envoi. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/254933/ This is a retread from last year. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/247717/ Previously deleted story, revised for a writing class. This version is better. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/246125/ If you're easily offended, please don't read this story! It was written specifically for the "The Ultimate Taboo" contest. I neither endorse nor engage in any of the activities described here. Honest. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/244628/ Penny is invisible. Not in the literal sense but no one notices her. Penny is ordinary. She is a librarian and looks it. Short and dumpy, with hair that usually needs a good brushing, there is nothing remarkable about her appearance. Her face could be pretty if she did somet.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/239824/ My take on the Befana myth. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/239821/ The day started like any other:  I was late for work and it seemed like the world was conspiring against me.  As I hurried to my car, something buzzed in front of my face.  I was already thinking about my day at work, so I waved it away and continued on.  A giant white insect buz.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/202879/ Becky stopped mid-sentence as silvery pod-like things fell from the sky and into her back yard.  She looked up at the darkening sky.  There were so many falling pods, they blocked out the sun.  One of them hit her on the head and she fell into the bushes.  "Ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/158521/ Autobiographiction for my Heart. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/124879/ Exiting the drainage tunnel, the Phouka turned to me and said with a devilish grin, “You look tired.  Want a ride?”  I replied with a curt “no”. As we approached my house, we saw the kids who lived across the street from me playing in their yard.  The .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/116617/ I’m not the most athletic person or the most graceful so I was surprised at the ease with which I picked up running on four legs.  It’s actually easier than running on two.  I felt like I could run forever and never tire out.  With my enhanced senses, the woods were a teem.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87971/ I woke up the next morning just as the sun peeked through the trees.  In daylight, the Hawthorns were truly beautiful.  I found that the blossoms weren’t white at all but a soft blush-pink.  The Phouka, man-shaped again, sat Indian style watching me.  When he saw me stir, h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87970/ “It’s easier if you don’t fight it.  Sometimes the transition between worlds can be a bit bumpy,” the Phouka explained, while rubbing at a grass stain on his elbow.  He looked behind us to the traffic which was still visible through the portal. “I&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87968/ Mary and Annie had dinner waiting for us when we returned home.  The Phouka was strangely silent but, once in awhile, I’d catch him staring at me.  The ladies were washing the dishes by hand afterward – something they recently discovered and actually liked doing – and cha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87966/ I woke the next morning to soft snoring in my ear.  Sometime during the night I had snuggled up to the Phouka and now my head was resting on his shoulder.  I tried to sit up without waking him, but he pulled me closer.  I did a quick, silent “ha ha sniff” into my hand to c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87965/ Annie cackled with delight.  “Ooh, Mary!  I haven’t seen anything like that since our Firene torched the spice rack in Home Ec class.  Do you remember?  What a spectacle!  Like grenades, every bottle just blew up!  Kapow!  Kablooey!” &ldq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87003/ We couldn’t really do anything until the Phouka returned, so while Mary and Annie spent the morning knitting and gossiping, I spent the morning wandering from window to window and checking and rechecking the hall closet.  Annie shyly presented me with the socks she had just finished knitt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87002/ “Interesting.  There are lots of gnomes at garden centers.  Lots.  So … Lowes is Faerie’s Australia…” I mused.  “Remind me later to thank you all for dumping your criminals in my world.  How long do they usually get sent here for?”.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/87001/ I stopped the car across the street from Jack’s house – a sleekly modern looking ranch, with large windows and a nearly flat roof.  It was hideous.  Every light was turned on and music emanated from the open front door.  It appeared that Jack was hosting a party. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/86077/ It only took a moment to find the box.  I had stuffed it in the back of my underwear drawer.  I don’t know how Jack and Dean could have missed it.  That’s the first place I’d look, if I was a thief.  I grabbed it and took it downstairs.  “It’s h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/86075/ It took me longer to re-fold clothes and put my dresser back together than it did to take inventory.  In truth, I don’t have much of value: a pair of earrings that were once watch fobs of my great-grandparents, which I inherited from my grandmother, and my father’s wedding band.&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/85647/ Mary stood looking at the empty box for a few moments.  Annie looked stricken.  The Phouka, his whimpering subsided, looked angry.  “The b*****d took it!”  I shrieked.  “He stole the necklace!  That tears it; I’m calling the cops.” .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/85643/ That night, I had the most terrible dreams.  Jack and his creepy friend Dean were chasing me.  Jack was a hideous monster that was alternately gigantic and then knee-high.  Dean, not the handsomest fellow in real life, was even more frightening.  First, he was dazzlingly handsome.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/85294/ I wrote this after attending a lecture on gypsy magick given by Dr Raymond Buckland. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/84621/ I first saw her in the toy aisle.  She held a plastic bucket – the sort a child fills with sand at the beach.  She was filling it with items pulled at random from the shelves.  I like to watch people, especially unusual folk, so I stood silently for a few moments and just watche.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/84456/ Companion piece to The Dark Moon http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/84237/ Etched into my skinFaded memories remainColored jade and rose http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/83875/  Belle nervously stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous; it’s not like it was their first date. She’d been seeing Allen for months now. They were practically an old, married couple. Still … she couldn’t shake the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/83644/  "The lobster is delicious," said Bronzing Bead for what seemed like the millionth time that night. Maybe it was the millionth night she'd said it; no one knew or really cared. Host sighed and then stiffened as he heard the familiar creak, followed by the sound of his suit .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/83507/  They moved through the darkness in silence. She led and he followed: a stealthy shadow and her faithful companion, her son. The smell of fresh paint filled the air and she breathed it in deeply. It was a smell she had come to love, a smell to savor. She shook the can and .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/pixiestyx17/83335/