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Posts from the ‘As a writer’ Category

“The One Left” Revision

Upon submission, the contest mandated a few rules:
  1. Absolutely no dialogue
  2. Each of the forty-eight author crafted paragraphs must contain at least 40 words.
So…I had to revise. Below is what I submitted to the contest. I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything…

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“The One Left”

Owl Canyon Press has a short story contest in which they provide the first and final paragraphs, allowing me to complete the other forty-eight. Here’s my take on those two paragraphs.


“The One Left” by Kim Praser

No coverage, not even one bar, the battery was dead anyway. It was still daytime, but there was an overcast and the sky had a perfectly even dullness, so there was no way to tell what time of day it was, much less which direction was north or south or anything else for that matter. A two-lane blacktop road snaked up into the distance and disappeared into some trees, or a forest if you wanted to get technical about it. It also snaked down toward some lumpy hills and disappeared there as well. What sounded like a two-stroke chainsaw could be heard in the distance, but it was impossible to tell whether it was up in the forest or down in the lumpy hills. This had been happening more often lately. Two different ways to go, with a dead battery and no bars, and nobody left to blame.

Stranded on this blacktop road was a girl. A high school sophomore, to be specific. Blame drifted through the air, and Morgan felt it always landed on her. Life seemed to point its haggard finger in her direction. With each passing day, Morgan felt those fingers clasp tighter and tighter around her wrists pulling her in two. To do what? She didn’t know. Too much gnawed at her leaving her empty.

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“The Pool’s Remains”

The short story below is my submission for a contest that is part of the Masterclass community. The agreed upon theme is courage. Enjoy my take that includes inspiration for my Uncle Stanley’s heroic act during World War II.


“The Pool’s Remains” Kim Praser

Within the blur of childhood, twelve weeks marked an important time: summer break. This break not only provided kids time off from that tedious institution, but we had time to explore, to make friends, to grow up.

When I was almost 12, the first summer after my parents’ fatal car accident, and about to enter the seventh grade, my focus was a pool. Not just any old pool, like one of those plastic jobs Grandma Laverne could buy at the Phar-Mor or even settling by playing in a sprinkler. No…my kid-brother, Nick, and me wanted to real pool. We wanted access to an Olympic sized one, which happened to be for the community where we resided with our grandmother.

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