Oh Look, a place for stuff N things!

 Here is a place for stuff and things I make or write or whatever, yay!


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The Climb

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  The Climb A short story by Stephanie S. Sommers   “You’ll love it, I promise.” “Lisa, I’m afraid of heights and terrified of falling, how on earth do you think this is a good idea?” “If you give me half an hour then I promise after we can go for a nice safe hike, right?” Kyla grinned even as she rolled her eyes, knowing she would give in and let her best friend talk her into this crazy scheme as she always did.   “Okay, half an hour of death defying and then we keep our feet on the ground.” Kyla laughed when Lisa did and settled back in the seat to watch the scenery as Lisa drove them North across the prairie. Twenty minutes later Lisa slowed the car as they approached the entrance to a canyon, both sides of the road had turnouts and two cars were already parked on one side. Lisa pulled onto the opposite side of the road and parked. When she got out of the little station wagon a voice called out and she waved and jogged across the pavement to talk to the g...
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Fire on the Mountain

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    Fire on the Mountain A short story by Stephanie S. Sommers   It was dark when I woke, still the middle of the night. I could hear the murmur of voices and clinking utensils in the kitchen. There were more voices than I would have expected for so late in the night. I got out of my bed and made my way in the opposite direction of the kitchen, for some reason drawn into the dark front room, the only light spilling from the archway into the kitchen but not fully illuminating the furniture, keeping them dark forms in a dark room. I climbed onto the couch and put my face close to the window and could see a bright glow on the horizon. We lived far from town, which was in the opposite direction. I was looking out the window that would, in daylight, show meadows and distant mountains. The glow was not electric light nor was it the setting sun in the deepness of midnight. It was a red, angry light, flickering, consuming. There was a scream then, high and full of a...
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Doors and Corners

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  My Dear, I am not at all sure when I will be able to send this letter. The postman has not come for the last three days but the grocer assures me that these delays are entirely normal. He is a delightful man, the grocer I mean, and he is always smiling and speaks slowly so I can understand and smiles so big whenever I learn new things. He has two small children who run around the shop, always followed by the wife who has a perpetual expression of patience on her face despite the scolding tone she uses on her young. I am not always sure what she scolds them about, perhaps the pilfering of a ripe pear from their father’s stock or some other infraction out of my sight. He is always indulgent to them allowing the small treats they take with a smile. I found the loveliest paper pinwheels the other week in a small market stall some blocks away. I bought a few and stopped in the grocery and asked if I might give them to the children. The boy took the red one and the girl took the gree...
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