My writing makes me feel as if my soul is exposed. I’ve never been comfortable with that. I persist hoping the feeling will fade, but it never really does.
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Where the Witches Live
Little towns are notorious for gossip, most people know (or know of) most other people. The rumor mill makes for excitement in a small country town, I suppose. For the most part, I’m the type of person to mind my own business, however; my husband and I have indulged in a bit of town gossip… Read more
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A Witch on the Beach
I was at the beach yesterday. It was a beautiful day, and the water was warm. My son had a ball diving into the waves and building sand castles. I was walking barefoot through the hot sand making my way to parking lot to retrieve something from my SUV. On the way, I passed a… Read more
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Printing of the Pages
I sat at my desk as the printer produced page after page. My husband walked by, stopped, and picked up the stack of pages. He began reading. I continued to click print. The printer kept printing. He continued to read. Except for the sound of the printer, it was silent, until he spoke. “I thought… Read more
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Caught In the Rain
On a warm summer afternoon I went for a walk to one of my favorite places, the cemetery. It’s a lovely place with beautiful old headstones, and where huge maple trees stand in rows down the center. In the summer the green leaves offer a canopy of shade, and the grass is a plush emerald… Read more

Flash Fiction and Short Stories
© 2026 S.B. Lacroix