friend Archives - Spillwords

The Dog She Was

ArikuiNovember 12, 2019

The Dog She Was written by: Arikui She’s not the dog she was ten years ago, When she would run for country miles. Stiles and fences flew beneath he...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Temple

Katy SantiffAugust 15, 2019

Temple written by: Katy Santiff On the day you died, I prayed before round golden gods, made their bronze bell giant ring, and when the l...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Flint

Karen WalkerJuly 23, 2019

Flint written by: Karen Walker Huddling against the night, our clan whispers, “When will there be fire?” The moon awakens and pushing aside a cloudy...

EnglishLiterature0 min read

At The Library With My Silly Friend

Mr FunJune 28, 2019

At The Library With My Silly Friend written by: Mr Fun @hotsacoman The place was abound with silence. My friend sat away from me, quietly reading h...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Tripping Over Walls

Bojana StojcicJune 21, 2019

Tripping Over Walls written by: Bojana Stojcic @BoyaETC for Kim It made no sense at all I tripped on a stone a while ago and fell face fir...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Cold Comfort

Ian FletcherMay 18, 2019

Cold Comfort written by: Ian Fletcher Just consider all you have done and the full life that you have led are his would be words of wisdom. Ah, ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Eventually, I’ll Give Up

Linda M. CrateMay 6, 2019

eventually, i'll give up written by: Linda M. Crate @thysilverdoe "sorry, i've been selective" it's your prerogative like i've said, but i am no...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Intervention

Rich RurshellApril 18, 2019

The Intervention written by: Rich Rurshell Jenny got into bed like her mother had told her to do and pulled the covers tight over her head. Daddy wa...

EnglishLiterature10 min read

How Hilda Stopped Mourning

Anita G. GormanApril 11, 2019

How Hilda Stopped Mourning written by: Anita G. Gorman Most people remembered birthdays and anniversaries and all sorts of holidays. Some people kep...

EnglishLiterature7 min read

To Live to Bleed for Glory

Heath BrougherMarch 25, 2019

To Live to Bleed for Glory written by: Heath Brougher for Duane Locke I’ve gone back to the basics. Back to my notebooks from my tee...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

The Winner of Our Discotheque

Shawn M. KlimekMarch 22, 2019

The Winner of Our Discotheque written by: Shawn M. Klimek and Stephan Klimek The "Hungary Grocer" disco, in downtown San Francisco, Was run by Z...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

The Dog’s Name Was Maxwell

Adam W RedmonMarch 15, 2019

The Dog's Name Was Maxwell written by: Adam W Redmon @AdamsWritings The dog's name was Maxwell, his best friend in the World. Received from his Mo...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Burn

Katy SantiffMarch 1, 2019

Burn written by: Katy Santiff Don't you lay on down because its harder now, because grain, you did not germinate, no green fronding thing...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

My Dear Companion

Christine E. RayFebruary 26, 2019

My Dear Companion written by: Christine E. Ray @Christabelle666 We have only recently met but there is a sense of inexplicable connection an eas...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Phyllis P. Colucci is a freelance/indie author from Brooklyn, New York. She is currently retired from a Supervisory Administrative position with a Federal law enforcement agency in New York City, and is now pursuing her passion for writing fiction and poetry. She has always had a love for writing over the years, whether it be poetry, short stories or novels; and mystery and suspense is something she has recently gravitated towards with a touch of romance and that "New York edge". Phyllis has three novels, one novella and an Anthology of original poems currently on the Amazon market, and continues to be part of the Spillwords writing community by sharing/contributing her fiction and poetry on a monthly basis. She also has a writing blog under the name of "FictionTarot" where she hopes to entertain readers, take them on journeys page by page - and perhaps make a difference with a blog.

Bodies In The Basement by M. Taggart

It was a crisp, damp, October night.
“When we get to the Church I’ll go down first.” Colin was thinking of the moment when both he and Aaron would be standing at the top of the basement stairs peering down into the darkness.
The old stone Church was perched at the top of the largest hill on the prep school’s campus. Colin’s parents were professors at the school and their house was on campus grounds. They’d been waiting for Colin’s parents to fall asleep upstairs. Both boys were comfortable in their sleeping bags on the screened in porch. The lights had been turned out an hour ago and Colin felt it was time to slip into the night ...