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The King’s Ransom

I hold him up at arm’s length, an offering to the gods, a tribute. He gurgles and squeals, wriggling in my arms. The sun kisses, then stings us. Beneath, his shadow wriggles along with him. I shudder, without a dark echo. That was the price for our freedom. Image credit: Photo by Riccardo Farinazzo on Unsplash

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Hall of Mirrors (or A Mansplainer’s Just Desserts)

Hall of Mirrors, or a mansplainer’s just desserts

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Inheritance of fear

Climbing rocks and a parent’s anxiety for YeahWrite #420’s Microprose Challenge.

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Seven seconds

Seven seconds to draw a breath

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Don’t Pea the Bed

John re-read the note, wondering if he’d overstepped. Thanks for the hospitality. I had a hard time sleeping, so I did some investigating. Lo and behold! I found a dried chickpea under my mattress. I can’t believe you tested me! Penelope P.S. Calling yourself a real “Prince” is creepy. Click the YeahWrite Microprose #356 badge […]

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The Last Thread

I didn’t post in this week’s YeahWrite Microprose #312 grid, but I love flash/microprose and wanted to play along with other YeahWriters.

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