Do you like ghost stories?
Do you like riding trains?
Answer yes to either question, and you might enjoy a new short story that I published this morning. It’s titled
Is it possible to see the future by looking backward? That seems like a reasonable assertion, right?
If a little strangeness and horror are your cup of tea, you can read the story by clicking
Do you daydream?
I suppose we all do.
What do you dream about?
I dreamed up a short story.
It’s a fairy tale, and it isn’t.
It’s about life, growth, and forgetting.
The abrupt climax is sad, and perhaps not unexpected.
If you have an active imagination and a philosophical view of life, you might enjoy reading it
Have a great Sunday!
I just finished writing another short story. It’s titled
The Highest Seat.
This very small work of fiction concerns stars and how one can almost touch them.
The unusual concept behind the story arose from something a friend mentioned. We were talking during my Sunday visit to Balboa Park.
The story is based a little on truth, and much on imagination. If you’re a dreamer, you might like it.
Have you ever encountered a deep mystery whose solution turned out to be obvious?
A mystery like that unfolds in my new short story
A Half Dozen Odd Things.
I love to walk around the city, take photographs, make discoveries . . . and occasionally write short fiction.
Do you love to read?
To solve the surprising mystery of A Half Dozen Odd Things, click
I hope you have a great Sunday!
Readers who are new to Cool San Diego Sights probably don’t know that, when I’m not walking around the city taking photographs, I love to write fiction.
Well, I’ve completed another very short story. This one is about a school teacher and a very peculiar lesson taught to her students.
The lesson isn’t merely strange–it might be one of the most important lessons any person, young or old, could learn.
To read it,
I published another short work of fiction a couple weeks ago. I wasn’t sure I wanted to publicize it on Cool San Diego Sights, but I read the story again this morning and I still sort of like it. So here goes…
Ghost Wind is the title. It’s about life. Your life, my life, everybody’s life. How invisible wind fills our sails. Read it here.
While I’m at it, here are two more that I also published not too long ago. You can find them all on my website
Short Stories by Richard.
Night Walking is a story about a walking house. And dreaming.
The Specimen is about throwing moon stones. And yearning.
Have a great day!
More cool sights are on the way!
I’ve published another short story today. It’s a very odd tale that you might enjoy reading.
It’s about moving through the night. Or about dreaming. Or about living. It is definitely about perception.
I’ve titled this strange little work of fiction
And now, having arranged these few words, I will head out my door and go day walking with my camera . . . through a world that often seems a dream . . .
If you’d like read this new story, click
I’ve published another very short work of fiction. This piece is titled
The Fight. It’s about living and dying . . . and laughter.
Perhaps you’ll enjoy this little story. It includes life experiences that are relatable.
Getting this simple story to work has been a struggle. I published The Fight prematurely a couple weeks ago, then pulled it down. A tale about life and death should be written carefully.
And laughter is a serious matter, too!
Now I hope I have things about right.
Read the story
You might remember a few photographs I took of buildings reflected in puddles. I posted those last month, after downtown San Diego had experienced a night of rain.
Looking into those silver puddles was almost like peering into a strange, bright world just beyond our own. To see those photos again, you can click
Well, during my walk among those magic puddles a seed was planted.
That seed germinated, grew, broke through, has blossomed.
If you’d like to read my newly completed short story, which I titled The Shining World, click
I saw this on Sunday. Valentine’s Day.
I was walking past a bus stop in North Park when my attention was arrested by a large teddy bear. The bear was sitting alone at the end of the bench. I looked around. Absolutely nobody was nearby.
I had to pause to take in this strange sight. Then it occurred to me: either this cute, very loveable teddy bear had been accidentally left behind, or it had been left there intentionally.
Either scenario meant heartbreak.
It’s one small story in the city that you and I will never know.
What made my discovery really weird–almost eerie–is that for weeks I had been working on a short story concerning a similar teddy bear on the streets of a city.
Even though the story is very short, it had persistently troubled me. I knew it had potential. But I couldn’t seem to get it right.
Seeing that mysterious bear inspired me to work on the story with renewed purpose.
The Teddy Bear yesterday. Since then I’ve made a number of changes. But I think it might be finished. It remains painful. Like many of my little stories it has a surprise ending.
If you’d like, you can read it