Friday, March 22, 2013

Thanks For Reading!



This March is the first month I've had over 1,000 hits on my blog - and the month isn't over yet!

A lot of this is traffic from Five Sentence Fiction readers, and I appreciate the time every one of you have taken to read and comment.



Image of Blogger statistics
Over 1,000 hits this month on my blog!



© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Saturday, March 16, 2013

FSF Challenge - Paradise



This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt "paradise."



One Final Question


Image of apple pie


Melvin swore that when he grew up he'd never be hungry again, and he'd fought hard during his few adult years to keep that promise. Now in front of him was an oval platter piled high with fried chicken, a bowl of steaming mashed potatoes covered in brown gravy, rice with red beans, a fruit pie that looked like it might be apple, a pitcher of iced tea swarming with a school of translucent lemon slices, and squares of cornbread in a basket, warm out of the oven. He took a big bite out of a chicken leg, the grease glistening on his fingers and lips, moaning in ecstasy as he slowly chewed.

"Man, this is heaven," he said after swallowing, his eyes closed to savor the flavor and bouquet. Then he turned to the priest sitting solemnly across from him in the cell and added, "Guess after what I done, this is as close as I'm gonna get, ain't it?"


© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Saturday, March 9, 2013

FSF Challenge - Whispers



This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt "whispers." You'd think that I, supposedly being a horror writer, would do something dark with a prompt like that. Looks like I screwed up again. If you were looking for horror, you can always read my "mummy" story here.

Although the recent snow wasn't much, it made me long for warmer weather and the sounds of summer. This started me off on an overindulgence of poetry, one for each season. Time is short these days, so I had to knock these out rather quickly - I may make a few changes if I come up with better words after reading them over.

Anyway, I hope they are enjoyable, and please leave a comment. It's even OK to say you don't like them - I'm not going to come hunt you down or anything like that. Well, I probably won't...





Whispers In A Summer Field


Image - summer_whispers.jpg - The hayfield behind the house ©2013 K. R. Smith


Beneath a mid-summer sun
I walk the fields in presumed silence,
Not a sound to interrupt my thoughts;
But that is not true.

Though not a single person spoils my view,
Not a voice calls my name,
Everything around me speaks
To those who listen well.

There is the rustle of the mouse,
Searching through the drying blades
Until the hawk, with fluttering feathers,
Lands softly, ending each party's hunt.

Circling higher, a buzzard soars
In its never-ending quest for death,
Only the faint hum of air over its wings
For company.

Most loquacious of all is the wind, 
Brushing the grass in hushed, curling waves,
Racing randomly across the hills,
Whispering in my ears.





Whispers In Orange And Brown


Image - autumn_whispers.jpg - Leaves in my yard ©2013 K. R. Smith



The poor things are rather inhibited,
Hanging there by a stem,
All in shades of orange and brown.

Oh, yes, there is the occasional dandy,
Flaunting a bit of red or yellow,
But they're still awfully close-mouthed.

Should one lose its grip,
They refrain from any screaming or wailing as they plummet,
Making only the slightest complaint as they strike the earth.

Stubbornly reserved,
They refuse to say a word,
And remain insufferably stoic.

And there they lay,
Until the wind stirs them
And they all decide to speak at once.





Whispers On A Winter's Evening


Image - winter_whispers.jpg - The Gunpowder River along the NCRT ©2013 K. R. Smith


The snow, cold and dry,
Blows like sand over a white dune
As a bird, brighter than fresh blood,
Scratches in the leaves under a bush.

And the fox, a flash of fire

Across the ice,
Though barely heard,
Lifts its ears to listen.

In a tree,
Dark, glistening grackles sit silent and wary,
Eventually taking flight over the ivory fields
With the hushed beating of wings.

There are so many voices here,
But not a single word, and yet
I take heed of their advice
And continue on my way.

For it is the soft moan of the wind,

A song played on the rusted wire fence,
Telling of the night to come;
It is time for me to leave.





Whispers On The Green


Image - spring_whispers.jpg - The place where my father is laid to rest ©2013 K. R. Smith



Between the cold and the heat,
After the white and before the brown,
The warming Earth renews itself
Splashing bits of green around.

With daffodils and crocus,
Scarlet buds bursting on maple trees,
I rest upon my favorite bench
To do the same for me.

They say a young man's fancy
Turns to love on such a day,
But truth be told, though mature in years,
I've never quite turned away.

So as two lovers stand beneath
A tree beside the pond,
Their whispered words I need not hear
To fully understand.

And as another couple passes,
Smiling, eyes aglow,
I think of a girl with long red hair
From a spring so long ago.



All images are the copyrighted property of K. R. Smith. They may be used with attribution.

© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Mum(mie)s The Word



The short story and drabble I submitted to The Were-Traveler webzine have now been published and available for your reading pleasure - or critique. This issue is all about mummies. I had to shorten the mummy story a little from its original length since it kept going over the 2000 word limit, so I'm hoping it didn't suffer too much. This is my second submission to The Were-Traveler, the first being my werewolf story, Going Home, published back in December 2012. They've been pretty responsive and helpful for a small webzine, so I'll probably consider them again if I have a suitable story.

In addition to the short story, I did the drabble because I'd never done one and wanted to see how hard it was to make a little story come out to exactly 100 words. It can be frustrating at times!

Sorry for the picture below, but I do write horror...


Here are the direct links to the stories:

Please let me know what you think about 'em!


© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Old Tree Sketch



If you want to see the sketch, it is now on my Patreon site.

I haven't put any artwork out here yet, so I dug up an old sketch I'd done a long time ago to put on display. This isn't the best rendering of it - it's a scan of a copy. The original was given to a young lady named Judy many years ago. I don't know if she still has it, and I have no way of contacting her to find out. She was in Florida the last I heard.

It's something different on the blog, and if you think the image is useful, you may use it for any non-political purpose (or don't have someone hanging from it - well, maybe if it's a bona fide horror story sort of thing) so long as attribution is given.





© 2012-2013 K. R. Smith All rights reserved