Photo courtesy of David Pennington on Unsplash

Photo courtesy of David Pennington on Unsplash





a short story by Marnie Lyn Adams

Photo courtesy of Todd Quackenbush on Unsplash

Rough: A Short Story

The opening paragraph:

Standing on the end of the diving board, springs groaning from the arthritis of disuse, Rough Hardy looked down into the pool’s deep-end and realized one thing—the frog had to die. In what once ran wet with chlorine and laughter rested a swamp—stagnant water stained rusty brown by the Oklahoma clay, overlaid with mosquito eggs and bug carcasses and yard detritus—and the freaking frog. Rough took aim with the only weapon left to him, a cordless DeWalt nail gun. His family removed the others—a deer rifle, his Glock. Hell, they even took his fish fillet knife—"in case he got any ideas.” Looking back, maybe that had been for the best. The pool reminded him of sticky kisses and coconut-scented sunscreen and everything he had lost. And the damn frog sat there, fat and happy—mocking Rough and his memories—belching out an ancient tune, clueless to the impending danger overhead.
Marnie Lyn Adams: ROUGH

Praise for ROUGH

...two main characters that are interesting and worth reading about.
Ken S.

… writing is captivating… just the right details to paint a picture of setting and character in your readers' minds.
Meg T.




Die Already

a short story by Marnie Lyn Adams

Photo courtesy of Bryan Minear on Unsplash

Die Already: A Short Story

The opening three paragraphs:

The odor, the putrid stink of human feces, of stomach upset, of contamination, woke him.

Ethan Jacobson's long, slim frame took up the entirety of the narrow twin bed. The room was spartan, monk-like, devoid of the typical teenage trappings. Besides the bed, the room only contained an end table, a small desk and chair, and a three-drawer dresser, all stripped of any personality or appeal beyond their primary function. The walls were bare; the closet contained a dozen or so hangers of shirts and jeans and nothing else. Unlike the rest of the house, Ethan's room was spotless, a personal oasis in a sea of chaos. More than anything, Ethan wished he could be normal, and Mother’s house was anything but.

The year prior, he had bought a padlock for the door, creating a physical and psychological barrier from the horrors beyond—the kind only years of hoarding could provide—but he returned home from school to discover Mother had hired a handyman to remove the door altogether, leaving Ethan hurt and defeated. Along with the disgust over their lifestyle, Ethan feared, if nothing changed, he would end up just like Mother.
Marnie Lyn Adams: DIE ALREADY

Praise for DIE ALREADY

..details are grotesque and vivid. This is a dark story, but extremely engaging and nicely written.
Susan C.