From my Adv. Lit class and unfinished. Originally posted March 26, 2019


Petal ran out of her house and down the garden path. “Violet, VIOLET!” She yelled as her bare feet slapped on the stepping stones. “VIIIIIOOOOLEEET!” Petal stopped at the bottom of the lily stalk and screamed up to her friend. “WHAAAAT?” Violet’s face appeared from one of the upper leaves of the lily, her long purple hair framing her face. “I could hear you across the whole garden!” Continue reading “Anise”

Romance Flash Fiction

I am not a typical romance writer…but I grew up reading Harlequins from my mom’s stash. This was my first real attempt due to a prompt from my one of my genre classes. It is NOT my best work by far.

“What do you mean she is divorced? I thought Emma and Nick were going to be ‘together forever’.” Jack feigned to take a drink not wanting Martia to see how interested he really was. “When was the divorce?”

“About a year ago. Nick decided he would rather be together forever with someone else…about halfway through their marriage.” Martia paused to steal across the room at Emma. “I keep meaning to talk to her and get the details, but she has been out of town dealing with her mother’s estate. I didn’t even know she was back in town until I saw her come in the door. ” Martia gave Jack a knowing smile. “I think she looks wonderful as a divorcee, don’t you?”

Martia had known Jack and Emma from their high school gallivanting days. She also knew he had pined over Emma all through their high school years. Martia and her girlfriend Luise nursed Jack through the heartache of “losing” Emma to that jackass Nick Stroudsburg.

Now Emma was back. And sans Jackass Nick.

“Yea, I guess so.” Jack wanted very much to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He didn’t want to appear desperate in front of Martia, or even Emma. However, he couldn’t stop stealing small looks her way. Her hair was a lot longer than he last saw her, though still a dark burgundy and he wanted ever so badly to touch it. She seemed a lot thinner than before in the blue dress she wore and he has hoped it wasn’t because of the divorce.

All of a sudden he felt eyes boring into him and turned to see Martia grinning at him. Dammit. Apparently he wasn’t very successful at hiding his feelings. Jack turned his back to Emma and tried to deflect the conversation. “So, when is Luise going to Germany? She said she needed to…”

“Oh no, Jack Robinson. You are not changing the subject. You need to go talk to Emma. You screwed up your chances once, don’t screw it up again and wait until someone else asks her out.”

Jack knew Martia was right, but he just couldn’t do it. Even though it was 10 years ago, he just couldn’t get up the nerve. Martia didn’t know about the time he actually did talk to Emma. When he confessed his feelings. Martia didn’t know Emma had told him that his feelings were not reciprocated.

He remembered her that night, years ago, at the homecoming dance. It was their senior year in high school. She had come to the football game looking gorgeous as usual with her hair swept up in messy bun and burgundy ringlets falling around her face. Jack could still see the simple sapphire dress she wore that came just to her ankles. She never dressed in anything too fancy. He pulled her aside after the game, before the dance.

“Emma, I have to tell you something.” He hesitated a bit, but then his feelings came tumbling out. “I love you, Emma. I always have…” He didn’t get to finish as Emma’s beautiful face fell with each word he said. He knew he made a mistake.

“I love you, too, Jack but as a friend. One of my best friends. I am in love with Nick. We are getting married and moving to Oregon after graduation.” Every word was like a knife in his gut.

Jack shook off the memory and stared at the drink in his hand for a long moment. When he looked up, there was Emma coming his way. She looked right at him with a huge smile on her face.

“Jack!” Emma’s voice was warm to his ears and he could feel his face break into a smile in spite of himself.

“Hey, Emma! How are you! I haven’t seen you since graduation!” He hadn’t intended on hugging her, but she wrapped her arms around him and it would be rude not to return the favor. The hug lingered for a moment and gave him time to savor the connection before she finally, and he thought reluctantly, pulled away.

“I’m good. Really good. I am working for Mrs. Esposito at the moment down at 2nd Chance Books. My divorce was final last September and I decided to come back home.” She looked to him as if she was trying to judge his reaction. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad thing.

“Oh, really? You always did like your books. And Nick was a jackass.” He sounded like an idiot to his ears and mentally kicked himself.

“Yea, I did. Still do! And yes, yes he was.” She stopped for a moment of awkward silence before continuing. “What about you?”

“I am actually taking over my dad’s business. He decided to retire early and he and mom went to Italy. They were only supposed to be there a week, but it has been three months.” As their conversation continued, Jack noticed Martia had slipped away before Emma got to them.

Emma began to fiddle with her hair. “Listen, Jack. I am sorry about everything. I was hoping I would see you here so I could make amends.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he heard his mouth say, but in his mind all he could think of were the words ‘I was hoping I would see you here’.

“No, really. I would love to make it up to you. Why don’t we have lunch tomorrow?” For the first time tonight he actually looked into her hazel eyes. She was pleading with him without begging. This felt like more than a lunch invitation and he realized that he wouldn’t be able to tell her no.

“Sure thing, Emma. I’m the boss and no one will say anything if I leave. Just name the time.” He said and hoped he wasn’t making another huge mistake.

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This work by Idgie Stark is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Amherst Writing Workshop 4

Originally posted on my old blog on May 29, 201

I have this blind spot

I have this blind spot. It has to do with my writing. It seems I can help others with their writing more than I can help myself with mine. I see perfect images of my potential stories, yet when everything is written, there are gaps. The words are always on the periphery.

Never in focus.

Like a dream you remember having, but can’t remember anything else about.

This blind spot taunts me, reminds me of pieces unfinished, of worlds begging to be created yet left on an empty page with ink trapped in a pen. I struggle to see them. The problems, the images, not realized. I turn in circles making myself dizzy to see – to illuminate the ideas. Yet, the spot is adept at staying just over my left shoulder; always hidden. Perpetually out of sight.

I chase it down dark hallways and alleys trying to run through to see what is on the other side. I only find mist and regret.

The words don’t come.

The images stay dark.

And I stay blind.



will you dance with me
among the headstones
on the night I can be flesh
Will you make love to me
in the moonlight
so I can remember
what it was like
before I return to the mist?

I remember when
I could walk in the sun
feel its heat on my skin
your hands on my body
your mouth on mine
your teeth
the pain
then exquisite death.

I don’t blame you
I knew what you were
I knew the danger
I came to you
knowing I would
be devoured completely
and welcomed it



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Graveyard by Idgie Stark is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.