Posts Tagged ‘short story’

To All The Books I’ve Written Before

Posted by melissa kandel on January 14, 2019 in Bookish | 1 Comment

Well, hi again. I’m trying to get back on here at least once per week in 2019. You deserve better than a blank blog with nothing to read. So, please, hold me to it. Last time we spoke I shared my 10 goals for 2019 but one of the goals I forgot to include in […]

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How About That

Posted by melissa kandel on December 24, 2018 in Fiction, Photography | 4 Comments

Dear Sir, My apologies that this awful news arrives so close to the holidays but I had some difficulty tracking you down. Your friend, Mme. Valentina Velasquez, has died. Her death was sudden, unexpected but painless, if that eases your mind in any way, and I do hope it does. I know you two had […]

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His Muse

Posted by melissa kandel on February 4, 2018 in Fiction | 2 Comments

There’s a road in Costa Rica that is watched by snakes and stones. The stones don’t make the best sentinels (stony-faced as they may be), mostly because they have no eyes and can only roll loosely in one direction or the next to warn of trouble ahead. The snakes, by comparison, fare a little better. Though […]

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Night Flight of the Sheep

Posted by melissa kandel on December 5, 2017 in Fiction | No Comments

“ … and, should the symptoms of sleeplessness persist, a patient may attempt any number of psychologically soothing exercises … lulling the mind to a more restful state of being … the most popular and effective of these called ‘counting sheep,’ wherein the patient, with eyes closed, begins enumerating sheep as if the beasts were […]

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Whale-Talk

Posted by melissa kandel on November 20, 2017 in Fiction | 4 Comments

Yosemite My name is Yosemite. I’m five feet, six inches tall with a reddish tint to my hair, a long beard that I never comb and green-blue eyes that are noticeably two different sizes. I only shower on Thursdays, smoke at least five cigarettes a day and eat my cereal each morning with cinnamon whiskey […]

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Colorado Man Says He Is ‘Deeply Troubled’ by Recent Facebook Post

Posted by melissa kandel on August 18, 2017 in Fiction | 1 Comment

By Marsha Sendar, Contributing Staff Reporter, The Colorado Bugler On Tuesday evening around nine, Marshall Fillchardo, owner of Kipp, CO-based bakery, Bread A Leg, took out his phone, looked up into the starry sky and snapped a photo of the full moon. Though the photo was partly out of focus, it was still decent enough by Fillchardo’s non-exacting standards […]

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A Date Near Downing Street

Posted by melissa kandel on August 17, 2017 in Fiction | 4 Comments

The taxi door fluttered open, a bright flap of yellow against the sluggish August wind. One last look to the driver with graying teeth and gangly, corn-husk hair and Simon Plinkers peeled himself out of the car. (This after sitting for twenty seven minutes in downtown traffic as the taxi meter skipped along and his elbow ached […]

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The Figaro

Posted by melissa kandel on June 5, 2017 in creativity, Fiction, travel | No Comments

Of all the details to remember, her hands were still the clearest in his mind. Unpolished nails of otherworldly innocence, intoxication by way of ten fingers and smooth skin and a wrist circled with Rolex Sky-Dweller gold, limited edition. Back to her hands. What did he later call them, windows to her soul? They appeared […]

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Moonlight Serenade

Posted by melissa kandel on April 19, 2017 in Fiction | 9 Comments

By Melissa Kandel There was no way around it: Luna had lost the moon. The revelation was quick but biting and it happened last night around dusk. She had been sitting with her cat, Marama, on the hill overlooking a town fading to pale, evening blue and there assumed her usual moon-watching position: Luna tucked […]

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Annalee

Posted by melissa kandel on March 28, 2017 in creativity, Fiction | 4 Comments

Annalee was her name. I say was because she’s no longer with us but you should know she was my Aunt Annalee and she was forever saying strange things to me like, “You’ll never understand what’s sitting inside or outside the ocean, so the best you can do is try.” “Yes, Aunt Annalee,” I’d reply, […]

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