Zephyr-driven Freelancer or Paul *Just Paul.
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fruittrees.bsky.social
Zephyr-driven Freelancer or Paul *Just Paul.
@fruittrees.bsky.social
78 followers 170 following 230 posts
When I'm not on here, I'm watching sports (college and professional), gaming, or reading.
Recently departed a (nearly) 30 year career for writing. Wish me luck or ask me anything!
#writing #fiction
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fruittrees.bsky.social
Maybe.
I found the following. Which you probably have read, I'm assuming.
October 22, 2025 at 4:51 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Purchased off Bookshop.orgBooooking forward to reading it.
Take care!
August 27, 2025 at 2:21 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Decided to move away from #vampires, #werewolves, creepy houses, and #cannibalism. Traded it for "The Demonologist" by the late @andrewpyper.bsky.social.
#iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
August 20, 2025 at 12:38 AM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Done with "The Grip of It: A Novel" by @jacjemc.bsky.social.
Great use of 1st-person and character development.
Having finished, I'm wondering if others have some suggestions. Else, I'll probably start looking into supernatural or paranormal novels.
#iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
August 13, 2025 at 4:56 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Just finished reading @almakatsu.bsky.social's "The Hunger". Loved the use of historical characters!
As part of my ongoing trek through the "101 Books To Read Before You're Murdered", I'm now reading "The Grip of It: A Novel" by @jacjemc.bsky.social.
#iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
August 7, 2025 at 7:25 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Having finished reading the last novel, I've started reading @almakatsu.bsky.social's "The Hunger".
#iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
Having finished reading the last novel, I've started reading @almakatsu.bsky.social's "The Hunger". #iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
July 23, 2025 at 3:50 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Reading this, all I saw was this, among other things.
July 17, 2025 at 11:48 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Started reading "The Lesser Dead" by @buehlmeister.bsky.social.
Interestingly, I'm averaging a book a week. Loving it!
#iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
July 14, 2025 at 6:44 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
If you see this, quote this post with a movie you watch at least once a year 🎥
#filmsky #promosky #movies
July 8, 2025 at 6:38 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Found in "101 Horror Books to Read Before You're Murdered" by @sadiehartmann.bsky.social, I started reading "Mongrels" by @sgj.bsky.social. So far, a fun, first-person novel. Solid pacing.
#iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
July 7, 2025 at 6:49 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Finally getting around to reading @cgolden.bsky.social's
"The Night Birds" #iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller. Feel like this will go well with a warm backyard, and maybe a cool drink.
June 24, 2025 at 7:06 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
June 16, 2025 at 1:55 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Decided to check out @sadiehartmann.bsky.social's "101 Horror Books to Read Before You're Murdered" #iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
June 13, 2025 at 6:40 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Just finished reading "We Used To Live Here" by #MarcusKliewer.
As someone who lives in Cascadia, I got the references. Anyone who's read it, pick up on the morse code?
Onto the next book, who's got a #thriller or #horror they'd suggest?
#iamreading #books #booksky #horror #thriller
June 13, 2025 at 4:14 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
I'm going to be more vocal about what I'm reading.
Just finished @timlebbon.bsky.social's "Among The Living". And, now I'm starting up "We Used To Live Here" by #MarcusKliewer.
#IAmReading #Books #BookSky #Writers
June 3, 2025 at 11:27 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Pour-over cup of ‘cold brew’ blend coffee and some morning sunshine, as I work on another #shortstory. #coffee #blackandwhite #photography #indiewriting
May 2, 2025 at 2:50 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's today's prompt - "... outline someone’s personal hell." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt #indiewriting
I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
Be Kind Rewind His lower back radiating pain, George sat on the floor. His hands riddled with paper cuts from examining every cardboard-encased copy of "Mac and Me" on Betamax, looked around to see how long he had been sitting. There was no clock. Looking down at his wrist, he found no watch. By his count, he had reviewed 1,206,889 editions of "Mac and Me" each one returned without being rewound first. Standing up, George felt a cold surge along his lower back as some of the tension eases. Applying his hands to his sides, George stretches his body upward, before scanning the interior of the 100 square foot video store. Gingerly stepping over the copies of "Mac and Me" in various stages of packaging, he steps around them while looking for an automatic rewinder. There was no sign of it. Walking towards the front of the store, he takes a moment to absorb the radiant words in neon red; "We Have Mac & Me!". Hanging in the front window, George could barely make out the condition of ambient light outside. It was nearly evening. Turning around, he surveys the crude videotape tapestry laying on the floor. Tiptoeing around the collection of tapes, he searches in vain without success for a rewinder. Realizing he has no choice, he bends down, grips a copy of "Mac and Me", pulling the cassette out of the case, and finally resting it facedown on the counter. Using his right index finger, he slowly rewinds the tape, counting the revolutions in his head. "One, two, three, four..." He counts while staring towards the neon sign. Closing his eyes, before pausing his labor, George curses himself when he realizes why he is here. "This is what I get for never returning my un-rewound copy of Mac & Me!" Moments later, the front door's mail slot opens and slams shut, immediately followed by the sound of cardboard and hollow, hard plastic colliding with the floor. Halting his progress, George leaves the videocassette on the counter, strolls over to the source of the din and recovers t…
February 20, 2025 at 1:26 AM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's yesterday's prompt - "... write about a work in progress." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt #indiewriting
I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
Something unsaid Preceded by the E and A chords, Pearl Jam’s “Black” echoes from the tiny college stereo. Shortly after, Eddie Vedder’s voice serenades Tony as he holds Sophie close. No one speaks; words are unnecessary. Closing his eyes as the lyrics escape from Eddie’s lips, Tony inhales deeply, the scent of lavender and sweat transmitting into his senses. Utterly intoxicated, he allows his hands to slide down from her back, caressing her lotioned-skin, as his hands meet the top of her butt. Covered by her black lace dress, she rests her head on his shoulder, as she allows the music to penetrate her. Their forms now union, they slow dance in the dimly lit space of Tony’s apartment dining room, the only source of light a low-watt lamp near the alleyway window. Returning to old habits, he places a small kiss on Sophie's neck. Responding, she returns her gaze back to his face, memorizing every shadow-kissed feature of his face, his eyes a deep blue. Smiling back at her, Tony leans in to press his lips against hers, pulling her closer to his body. The song nearly concluded; Tony opens his eyes while withdrawing his kiss. Responding in kind, Sophie opens hers, her lips in a sullen composure. Keeping pace with the song’s acoustics and vocals, they slow their movements, followed by coming to a complete stop. Starting at each other, instinctively Tony maintains the tension in his arms as he holds her. Knowing this isn’t supposed to last, he lessens his grip before letting his arms slide down past her thighs to his sides. The music long since ceased; they stand in a cathartic gambit. Tony finally makes the move, first by reaching out to Sophie’s still warm, yet smooth left hand, then by guiding her towards the hallway of his apartment. The hallway only illuminated by the light from the living room lamp; Sophie cannot see the regret and sadness on Tony’s face. Nor can she see the tears that are cresting in his eyes. But she can recall his lips, those blue eyes, and h…
February 19, 2025 at 4:29 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's yesterday's prompt - "... write about a work in progress." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt #indiewriting
I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
Something out of place. Her fingers chapped and cracking from frequent hand washing, Abagail raises the coffee mug to her lips. As the scents of tobacco, cacao chocolate, and earth crawl into her senses, she closes her eyes. Sitting in the well-worn wooden dining room chair, she takes a reserved deep breath, followed by a slow exhale, as she takes her next sip. Her eyes remaining closed, she listens for anything out of place. Nothing. Just the sound of a nearby bluejay celebrating the afternoon, several cars rolling by, and the refrigerator’s condenser kicking in. Lowering her guard, Abagail skates a light breath across the surface of her coffee, pushing layers of steam away. Thinking to herself, she recalls the way she smelled: lavender. The color of her eyes, an ocean blue. The way she laughed, infectious to all that were within earshot. Or how she insisted on wearing sandals, no socks, exposing her unmanicured feet for all to see. Or maybe it was the lack of attention to cleanliness, leaving dirty and clean clothes all over the bedroom. Leaving the dishes in the sink, sometimes two or three days old. Her need to use a clean dish every time she wanted some chips. And she never flushed the toilet. Gripping the cup firmer, Abagail opens her eyes, allowing her vision to re-adjust to the light of the overhead lamp, as she surveys the contents of the dining room and nearby kitchen. Looking at the mid-century cupboard doors, she reconfirms the imperfections on the doors, mostly around the corners and the faded wood stains from sun exposure. Looking down at her coffee, Abagail raises the glass back up to her lips before taking another sip. Staring at the ceiling, she replays the events from that night. In her version of the events, Abagail was justified in reminding her partner to flush the toilet. She was justified in reminding her partner to rinse the dishes off before putting them in the dishwasher. Or to hang her shirts on hooks instead of leaving them on the bed. …
February 14, 2025 at 5:11 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's today's prompt - "... write about googling something." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt #indiewriters
I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
9-1-1 is a joke on my phone. As fists pound the door outside his dorm room, Teddy frantically screams into his phone. “9-1-1” The screen flashing for a moment, confirming the prompt, he stares down hurriedly, then the door, and then the screen again. A minute later, it flashes for a moment, displaying results. “OK. Here’s what I found.” Displayed on his screen was a search result covering everything from the history of 9-1-1 to September 11th, 2001. Frustrated, he can hear the wooden door breaking, creating jagged gaps in the wood. Tormented, Teddy yells back again. “Call, 9-1-1!” Again, the screen comes to life as the muffled voices yell through the door. His heart rate increasing, sweat continues to current its way from the top of his head into his eyes, occasionally raining onto the floor. His phone responds with results. “OK. Here’s what I found.” Unlike the previous result, it returns topics like "Ball of Fun", “911 Is A Joke” by the band “2 Live Crew”, and instructions for "calling 9-1-1 on your phone". Exasperated while wiping the sweat from his forehead, he states. “Call, 9…1…1!” This time the result is quick and with a question, followed by flashing the screen. In the background, underneath the door, fumes of smoke are emanating from the bottom of the door. “Calling 9-1-1. Is that what you want?” Relieved, agitated and tired from the waning adrenaline, Teddy exclaims. “Yes! Holy shit! YES!” It responds, simply stating. “OK, calling 911” Thinking to himself as it calls emergency services, all Teddy could do was curse Andy for deleting the phone from his home screen. The screen active, the earpiece speaker plays the familiar tone of a call attempting to connect. “Boom!” Bisected one-third by two-thirds, the door explodes against the weight and hard edge of the fire axe. Startled, Teddy unexpectedly drops his phone, immediately looking towards the doorway. Bursting through the doorway, several masked firefighters rush in, shouting statements. Rec…
February 12, 2025 at 11:03 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's today's prompt - "... write about peace." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt
Note: I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
Silentium Temporalis Turning the key to the front door, Zack heard the sudden sound of running and small voices screaming and shouting behind the door. Unlocking the door, Zack turned the knob before pushing the door into the house. The sound louder in the back of the house, Zack drops his keys off on the nearby counter before stowing his jacket into the closet. After closing the door, Zack makes his way to the back of the house to inspect the damage. Some 10 feet down the hall, the first act of vandalism, a long uneven line made by blue crayon, is found. Further in, shoes of all kinds are lying near the entrance to the dining room. In the distance, the sound’s of children yelling and laughter echo against the walls of a nearby bedroom. Bending over, Zack scoops up the shoes, securing them against his chest. As he walks into the dining room, tennis balls and basketballs are under the dining room table. Meanwhile, several suction-cupped darts are embedded in the table. Walking around the table, towards the kitchen, Zack allows a deep sigh to escape while he continues to review the carnage created by his and other unknown children. Leaning over the dining room table, while holding the shoes, he wrestles the implements from the tabletop before walking down the hallway to the source of the sound. The voice growing louder, unintelligible but definitely child-like, Zack enters the closest bedroom. Like energized electrons, Zack’s 5-year-old Robert runs back and forth, tagging the sides of the beds in a sort of loop. Meanwhile, Cathy's legs and feet poke out from under a row of coats and dresses hanging in the closet. With a devious, yet playful, smile, Zack approaches the closet before inquiring. “Hmmmmm, whose shoes are those, I wonder.” As Cathy’s legs shake against the vibration of her laughter. Behind Zack, Robert has stopped running and is now observing his father. Dropping the shoes in front of the torso-less legs and feet, Zack bends down before continuing. …
February 11, 2025 at 1:47 AM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's yesterday's prompt - "... write about a creation." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt
Note: I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
God and Satan in Paris Meeting at their usual spot, God, creator of everything in seven days, and Satan, former acolyte of the creator and king of Hell, are enjoying a conversation. The cafe in Paris’ Etienne Marcel, a favorite of Satan's, mostly because of their resplendent croissants, is the backdrop of a wager. With their assistance, what could humanity create or have created that will be discussed for years to come?
Sitting there, while enjoying their cappuccino and croissant, God recalls many frustrating devices, creatures, conditions throughout history, before recalling their most recent creation.
Still relaxing, the duo recalls many technological advances from the wheel to artificial intelligence and everything in between. This exercise continues, sipping on their cappuccinos, as a volley ensues back and forth.
The sun in the background resting on the horizon, God realizes the day is late and recalls all the things they have come up with.
“So, let’s see. I argued for.
“2012, organized religion, free wheel, artificial intelligence, the wheel, a cure for aids, a cure for cancer, and the iPhone. Meanwhile, you had what again?”
Sipping on the remnants of their third cup of coffee, Satan reminds God.
“It was social media, the Guinness Book of World Records, Global Warming, the Separation of Church and State, and the Snyder Cut.”
Not all that impressed with Satan’s list or their own. God thinks they have the tie-breaker and exclaims.
“Jesus Christ!”
Confused, mostly because Satan can’t tell whether God is using a slur, Satan finally states.
“I’m assuming you have another creation you’d like to share.”
Gesturing with their hands in reassurance, God states their son was the one creation that everyone talks about and will continue to talk about. Resting in their chair, swallow the last of their coffee, God relaxes in their seat. A less than enthused Satan recollects their thoughts before reminding God that they created the thought in the minds of all humanity. A previ…
February 10, 2025 at 9:14 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's today's prompt - "... an animal’s perspective." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt
Incidentally, despite a lack of profanity, this one was labeled as Spam by @disqusofficial.bsky.social. LOL!
Note: I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
Put It In The Dishwasher My feet growing warm against the marble, I stare at her, watching her every move. I have the upper hand.  Continuing to avoid eye contact, Melissa continues to make failed attempts at negotiating with me. This has to happen! It’s going to happen! I won’t fail in my intent. As the seconds tick by, I am growing increasingly tense, as Melissa starts gesticulating, the volume of her voice increasing, impatient, but with accents of fear trailing every word. She knows that I won’t give up! Standing there, I look down at the source of our conflict: a white ceramic cereal bowl. Previously used to hold Cinnamon Life cereal and some almond milk, it was left here for some reason. Either through ignorance or wanton disregard for house rules, she left it here and not it in the dishwasher. God, I hate it when she leaves dirty dishes lying around. My eyes are growing dry, I can’t blink now. Compromising with my body, I allow my eyelids to close a bit. As I do this, Melissa relaxes. That’s it, I’m moving closer to the bowl. Melissa is growing tense again. She’s saying something. Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the lust for retribution, but I’m having a hard time understanding what Melissa is saying. What is clear is she wants me to stop what I’m doing. No turning back. Standing there, I shift my right foot forward, slowly nudging the bowl. Nudging it across the countertop, it grows closer and closer to the edge of the kitchen counter. I can see Melissa preparing for the worst. With a final nudge, I slide the ceramic bowl off the kitchen counter, simultaneously taking delight in my owner leaping towards the bowl careening down towards the floor.  Damn!  She caught it!  On her stomach now, Melissa is standing up with the bowl in her hand before depositing it into the sink next to me. Turning back towards me, I see that her shoulders are relaxed, but her face is contorted. She’s upset.  Tensing up, anticipating an assault, I see her a…
February 8, 2025 at 9:54 PM
fruittrees.bsky.social
Here's yesterday's prompt - "... write a story based on a font." #FlashFiction #writing #prompt (Note, this is an updated post).
I'm responding to any typos/grammar within this post. Please read before responding. Thank you!
The struggle with Broadway is real. At 1127 Hunter Avenue, during a clear but brisk Friday, Brandon Mitchell sat at his desk reviewing the latest batch of applications at the law firm of Mitchell, Bosley, and Schumacher. His 11th resume of the morning, Brandon sipped sparingly on his Single Origin Colombian coffee, occasionally resting the mug on a hot plate. That’s when he hit a roadblock: Broadway font, formatted with italics. For the uninitiated, Broadway font was first developed by Morris Fuller Benton in 1927 for the American Type Founders ( ATF). Often used for decorative purposes, mostly in flyers or posters, it is a remarkably rotund font. Unfortunately, it is also a font that disturbs dyslexics, especially when it’s italicized. Mind you, any font that has irregular spacing, shapes, or curves is equally hard for those with dyslexia. Closing his eyes, Brandon takes a deep breath before sighing outwardly in frustration. “I fucking hate italics. I especially hate Broadway.” Now in his early 30s, Brandon was among the nearly 10-15% afflicted with dyslexia. Because of this, his teachers often thought him a daydreamer and often detained Brandon after school. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that his parents learned about his condition. With help from his parents and counselors, Brandon has worked around this impairment. Sitting there, staring at the backlit screen of his laptop, Brandon drags his finger across the mouse pad, highlighting the entire document before copying and pasting the text into a new document. Still highlighted, Brandon moves the mouse’s cursor to edit the font, selecting Times New Roman and selecting the Normal option amongst selections like Italic, Bold, and Bold Italics. Focusing, he reviews the words on the page, taking notice of the applicant’s college, years of experience, and other relevant information. Font choice and format notwithstanding, Brandon allows a bit of laughter to escape. Noting the applicant’s name, Brandon circles …
February 8, 2025 at 8:31 PM