Tag: writing
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New Life
PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda When the flowers finally started to bloom, I let myself have a little faith. A little faith I was doing the right thing and had done the right thing when I moved hundreds of miles away from my friends and family. Until today, I had considered packing my bags and…
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Airport Mystery
I saw the man run by me in a panic multiple times. I felt like the only reason he passed me several times was the fact his plane had moved gates more than once. But here he was behind me in line – sweating and wide eyed – on a flight that had never moved…
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Generous and Stupid
“She was both generous and stupid. Willing to learn, but unwilling to listen. Political, but didn’t debate,” I listened to the woman in the seat beside me practice her speech under her breath. I wondered if she was practicing a eulogy and who the eulogy was possibly for. As she continued with her preparations, I…
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Ski Chalet
I had always wanted to stay in a posh ski chalet. I wanted to be able to ski in and ski out of my own chalet just so I could say that I did it. That I had stayed not in a hotel on a mountain, but a chalet. I just wanted to ski in…
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The Gravestone
Everything changed the day I found my name and birthdate on the gravestone. As I stared at the marker, I could feel the bile rise from my stomach. Everyone knew I came to this cemetery to take photos for my photography profile. But who would go to this extent to put my name, birthdate and…
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Gossips
I didn’t quite know what I had gotten myself into when I moved to Jones. I did like the appeal of a small town, but was beginning to regret my decision. The gossip of living in a small town was something I had anticipated, but not to the extent I found. Every time I walked into…
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The Bad Idea
Here’s my first attempt at a podcast of my short stories!
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Kidnapping
He crept up on me like a ghost. I never saw him and I didn’t hear him until it was too late. Now I was stuck and didn’t know if I could get out of this situation easily. And I really wanted out. Mainly because he wasn’t talking. I knew he was shy, but he…
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The Locked Door
I didn’t know what I was getting into when I moved in with Mary. Never before had I ever considered or encountered a locked door in any place I had ever lived. Even growing up in my family, that was saying something. With my parents, I never knew what their moods would be from day…