2025 Fall Writing Frenzy Contest

I'm currently reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic for the third time, because that's how the last few months have felt...big...and magical. I won't go into the details about the doubts that plagued my summer. I'll only say, when creative inspiration comes, I know to open myself to it, whole-heartedly because it is not a given, it is a gift.

Thank you to the generous hosts of the 2025 Fall Writing Frenzy contest, the amazing:

Kaitlyn: @kaitlynleann17, @kaitlynleann17.bsky.social, kaitlynleann17,

Lydia: @LydiaLukidis, @lydialukidis.bsky.social, cosmiclydia7 Aixa: @professoraixa.bsky.social, @aixasdoodlesandbooks

Inspiration: Image 11, Credit: Freepik via Alexdon24

Sweet as Apple Pie

197 words

The last slice of pie was gone.

None of us knew who ate it, only that it wasn’t ours to eat. Mom had been saving it for Nell. “Just in case,” she said.

For days, the slice of pie sat on the counter, tempting us with scents of a happy home – toasted cinnamon and sugar-dipped apples. Then it turned. The crust sagged and sank into the filling.

Still, Mom saved it. “One more day…” she said.

Now the pie was gone, and there was no time to point fingers. Mom would be home soon, and I couldn’t let her find the pie tin, empty as apologies. I bent over the sink, scrubbing the tin and cursing the tough bits stuck to the bottom, when Nell walked into the kitchen holding a small plate with the missing piece of pie.  

She slowly lifted the plate to her nose, sniffed, then tipped the pie into the trash. Working her fork like a razor’s edge, she scraped off every last crumb.

“Tell Mom…” Nell said, as she retrieved a piece of candy from her pocket. “The pie stunk.”

She shoved the candy into her mouth and left without looking back.