15-minute Writing Session

My little sister hung onto her handlebars with their streaming ribbons. "Maddie, it's fine. It's just an old house." A window shutter slapped the siding, making both of us jump. Maddie worried gaze begged me to lead us down the street and closer to home. "It's just the wind." The afternoon sun gradually dimmed to its rosy dusk color. "Sure it is, Howie."

Advertisements

15-Minute Writing Session

The sun beat down on the backyard. Grass, which usually felt soft and soothing under our bare toes, felt scratchy and stiff that day. Maggie picked at the wood pile for the fire ring beside the shed. Her chipped painted nails chipped at the dry logs' bark. I brushed anthills away with the tip of a stick.