Short Stories & Poetry
The Ripeness Of Fruit
Badria wakes. The sun is not yet up. The cock has not yet called. Perhaps it was the hoot of loons, the stirring of goats in the barn, the restless wandering of the wind among the budding cherry trees “Does the wind taste the tart ripeness of the fruit?” she wonders....
Uncle in Vermont by Kenneth Weene
She loved traveling, delighting in hotels and particularly enjoying room service breakfasts: scrambled eggs not too firm or a cheddar omelet, a side of bacon, toast buttered and strawberry jam, hash browns with ketchup, and coffee—light and sweet. Uncle, our...
Alpha ~ Omega An Irreverence By Kenneth Weene
“Worthless!” The trumpeting blast of Jehovah’s voice set the bowls of manna jumping. Waves of mead swished from goblets. Two unsuspecting seraphim were knocked from their precarious perches atop great golden harps. In the aftermath, quiet reigned in the massive hall....
Hunter by Kenneth Weene
The youngster takes his stand. He leans back against the double birch. The bushes he has pushed aside close back around him. Even though it is still night, he can feel the sun rising ahead. “Too cold,” he had thought when his father had pressed his shoulder...
Eating Fried Chicken in Eureka by Kenneth Weene
I've been spending a few weeks in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. That's in the northwest corner of the state, where the Ozarks meet WalMart. I'm at the Writers' Colony, a place where authors can go to just write, to just have the freedom to create. Of course, nobody can...
Apple Pie and Elephants by Kenneth Weene
It was August, just before we heard that the last elephants had died. Suze got it into her head we should ride out to the old Viles farm and pick apples, fresh tree grown apples, for some pies. No Viles has lived on the place for nearly a hundred years, but it’s still...
Site Designed by Vertikal Media Group 2019 © All Rights Reserved Kenneth Weene