Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

It is possible, you know. 'Is this seat taken?' I enquired tentatively, of a man who looked remarkably familiar. He looked up from a notebook filled...

VIII. The library was three stops past the end of Sycamore Lane, in the town center. Ruth had not been in years — she couldn't have said how many —...

Sycamore Lane is nine houses long, set back from the road at polite distances, with porches wide enough for two chairs apiece. The mailboxes are...

It was chilly. It wasn’t quite cold enough to warrant doing anything but it was just about cold enough to complain; they both sat on the slanted...