The Charred Tree

Archive for the tag “writing”

Wake Up To Reality

This is a continuation of the InMon story from a month ago, The Unanswered Phone. If you’ve not yet read that story, I recommend you start there.  ~DBJ

 

Peter and Shaun ran through the fading twilight. Neither had a destination in mind, knowing only they needed to be far from the apartments and the chiming phone before the murderous creatures arrived to investigate. Their knowledge of the area since all hell broke loose almost a week ago was what could be seen from their windows. They avoided the jagged edges Read more…

Facing the darkness…

One day I may set my hand to writing some non-fiction, but it’s not something that particularly interests me. I mean…what’s the draw of writing non-fiction? Reporting the facts? Telling the truth? It seems like it would be too confining to only report what actually happened…and who determines the facts (much less the truth) of whatever happened?  Strangely enough…I think there are far too many Read more…

Some Things You Can’t Hide

“It don’t look too bad,” Steven said over the wind blowing through the windows of the blue and rust Chevette.

“What do you mean by ‘too bad’? Is Mom gonna notice it or not?” Dan divided his attention between the road, his kid brother in the passenger seat, and the rear view mirror.

“Oh yeah. You ain’t hiding that. Read more…

Bound By Silence: Rage

Warning:

The following story contains mature themes and situations that some readers may find disturbing. Discretion is advised.

Read more…

Somewhere Out There

Cheryl Watson sipped from a corrugated paper cup. It wasn’t that good—just what the hotel provided with the coffee maker—but it was hot and it woke her up. She stood on the room’s balcony overlooking the pounding surf. The windows provided a great view of the beach but the torrents of rain beating against them through the night had made sleep impossible.

Read more…

Friends In Low Places

“I can’t help you, Rob. Sorry.” The chain stretched across the opening drooped into a mocking smile as the door started to close. This was the fourth person he had tried since the phone call had startled him from his bed. Robert Penman’s patience broke. Read more…

The Funeral

“No, I should be home by 2:30. Just a graveside service with the family.  Sure, I can stop by the store on the way home. Mmhmmm. Anything besides milk and sugar? OK, Honey. See you in a bit.”

Lloyd Kirkland replaced the receiver on the rotary phone at the corner of his desk at Faith River Covenant Assembly. He jotted a few words on a sticky-note Read more…

Diaspora: Prickles and Thorns

“Ciyige!” the woman at the metal desk barked. There was so much gold piping and embroidery on her uniform Jon would have thought it gaudy in any other context. Considering he was flanked by BDU-clad military police armed with stun batons, her uniform seemed just the right amount of pomp to balance the dreary circumstances. “Next!” One of his keepers pushed him forward and Jon stumbled Read more…

Author On Site — Farewell! Away! Down River!

A short clip of me on location to share a little about the setting of one of the stories on The Charred Tree, “Farewell! Away! Down River!” As some may know, my grandmother passed away last month and I traveled to central Alabama for the funeral. While there I visited some of the places from my childhood that stood out in my memory. This was one of them and since it was a direct tie-in with one of the stories I have published here, I chose to video a short bit to share here on the blog.

My apologies for the shakiness and jerkiness of the video. This is my first attempt at doing a video for the blog.

The Unanswered Phone

Everything was quiet on the second floor of 39 Brooks Lane as Tuesday drew to a close. The light reflected in through the bank of broken windows at the western end of the littered hallway changed moment by moment through most of the yellow-orange-red part of the spectrum before beginning to fade. Nothing moved in the corridor Read more…

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