Living with Tammy

  T hese short stories are written as practices in writing and all are unedited and are not proofread His Day The winter cold snapped at him for a few minutes before he woke up, rolling onto his back he looked at the familiar room. The cornices were the shape he had always known, rounded with a small bump right before they reached the ceiling. There on the ceiling itself he saw the five dots, in the same place they had been since he had painted the roof so many years ago. As he looked around the room, everything came into focus and he could make out the details as wakefulness came to him. There were several things that were new to him but as he recognized the white shapes, the poles supporting them, and the pipes running from them he realized. He wasn’t in the hospital, but he was certainly being taken care of, having converted the mansion he built into a hospice. After a while he pushed himself upright and with a few blinks he swore there was something he had to remember. ...

  These short stories are written as practices in writing and all are unedited and are not proofread The morning broke with its usual shimmery haze, the sun was shining through slits in the blinds, giving the entire room a magical golden glow. She awoke when the first birdsong drifted through, caressing her ears and stirring her dreams into a wonderful mixture of sounds. She rolled first to the left side, trying to avoid the songs then to the right, in a vain attempt to avoid the sunlight. Slowly she awoke, her brain processing who she is and where she was, there would be no sleeping in for her, work had to be done. A few moments later she was out of her ensuite room, fully clothed and ready to face whatever the day may bring. She floated down to the kitchen, where food was already waiting for her. She grabbed the mug of coffee as it rose towards her hand, the drink was hot, sweet, and not entirely unlike hot-chocolate. As breakfast was scarped down the first message pinged into ex...

These short stories are written as practices in writing and all are unedited and are not proofread It started quite normal, almost average in a sense, Wysh had gone to get a new family member from the nearest adoption agency. Upon arrival she was shocked to find that most of the younger cats had already been adopted, with the two that remained being too sick to take immediately. You see, the trip to the agency was a long walk and Wysh had no desire to make it a second time when they had enough kittens available. Instead, upon some advice from the staff there, she went to take a look at some of the older cats that were kept in the back of the agency.  The first one she saw had a missing eye and seemed to be unwilling to approach her, preferring to stay in the back of the cage. The second, third, fourth, all the way up to the tenth all were playful and loving, each having been abandoned after their owners moved.   She was tempted by each, but still felt a disconnected, som...