Cathryn Grant's Blog, page 4

Do Try

When the woman smiled, her teeth were individually perfect, but the smile overall was off-balance. I prefer you call me mother-in-love. Tamis throat tight...

Finesse Required

She inserted the weeding tool into the soil. Carefully, she worked the metal prong around the roots, pushing deeper. When she thought she’d found the largest part of the root, she grasped the weed and pulled. All that was in her hand were torn bits of stem and leaves. The root taunted her from deep in the earth, working its way into every corner of her life.

Novel Excerpt: The Good Mother

She stood and turned the wand to angle the mini blinds for more light. She leaned over the small refrigerator and peeked out through the slats. A woman was pushing a stroller around the curve of the cul-de-sac. A small boy walked beside her. They stopped at the edge of the yard next door. The woman bent down and plucked a dandelion that had gone to seed. She blew at the fluffy white weed and then held it for the boy to do the same. Seeds scattered across the ground under Amy’s rosebushes. Amy...

Passing Thoughts

Her: Why is he looking at me like that? Him: Smile, bitch. Would it really kill you to admit I exist? Her: If I smile, he’ll think it’s an invitation. Him: If you smile, I won’t do it. They’ll all be allowed to live. Her: Maybe he’s just…lonely? Him: I can pull the trigger or not. Your call. As they passed by each other, she offered a hesitant smile. A moment later, she’d forgotten all about him.

The Chair

The chair was empty. But she always saw him sitting there.

Novel Excerpt: The Good Neighbor

Prologue There was so much blood. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I thought it would flow smoothly, not emerge with thick clumps, stopping suddenly. Then, just when I thought it was finished, starting to ooze again. I cleaned it up as best I could. But when I looked at my hands, my fingers had absorbed it. Red lines snaked along my cuticles, and blood was lodged beneath my fingernails. I scrubbed my hands, watching the water and liquid soap run red and pink down the drain. Faint stains cl...

1-Minute Fiction: Working Late

The hallway was dark, all but one of the motion-activated lights unlit for the past hour. A crash interrupted the stillness. The building was secured. Everything was fine. Just someone else working late. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, steady and firm. As they drew closer, only a few yards away now, she waited for the lights to react to the motion and turn themselves on. The hallway remained dark.

1-Minute Fiction: First Time. Best Time.

The first time he told that story, she’d laughed. The next one-hundred-thirty-three times, her laughter deflated, then dissipated, finally dissolving into nothing. Then, she realized it mattered and she laughed as if it were the first telling.

1-Minute Fiction: Fleeting Thoughts

It happened so fast. Birth. Hope. The anticipation of beauty. Decay. Despair. Death. Lasting no longer than a passing thought.

1-Minute Fiction: Devoured

The sound was faint, audible only when her eyes were closed. She lay in bed, hearing jaws masticating as if the creatures were inside her skull, chewing their way through every fiber of her brain. In reality, they were far away, but still she heard the destruction as the termites gnawed their way through her garden fence.