Clifford Fryman

She closed her eyes, lifted her face to the sun and smiled. Breathing in deep, she whispered, “No place like home.”
“Sure you wanna walk from here in this weather?”
“I’ve been gone for too long,” she said, taking a bill from her purse and passing it to the cab driver, “so I wouldn’t dream of passing [...]

Wolf and Twilight is a short flash piece I recently redone to tie in to a fantasy novel I wrote some time back. It mimics the style used by Native Americans to describe the reasoning for something.

The brass lock on the door had fed my imagination for years. As a boy, it had been the curiosity of what lay behind a closed door. As I grew older, it had been the mystery of why I’d never seen anyone open it. Finally, the strange location of the locked door alone had been [...]