20 Jan., 2018 – Getting Lost

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

Aaron checked his compass when Maggie stopped for a drink.  The needle pointed southeast, a steady direction for the past hour and, from the look of the mountain ridge where they’d been walking, it seemed unlikely to change. Ahead, a vast, unchecked wilderness stretched out before them.  He was just factoring out the time they’d been away from the car when Maggie clapped a hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” she asked.  “Put that thing away.” “Sorry,” Aaron said.  “I just don’t want to get lost.” Maggie smiled out at the endless horizon.  “Lost?  That’s the whole point.”

19 Jan., 2018 – Oldest Friend

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

People like to say that the two of us were made for one another, but I’m not sure that’s true.  Scope had lived a full life before I took him home, off doing God knows what with God knows who.  Of course, I had my fun as well, running up mountains and across rivers off into the northern wilderness.  I think Scope would’ve enjoyed that, though we’re both too old to make good progress these days. My knees aren’t what they used to be, and Scope’s hips have been worn through over a lifetime of hard work.  I say “doing … Read More

18 Jan., 2018 – Old School Tunes

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

Jason threw his bag in the overhead compartment and himself into the seat.  His fingers flicked over his smartphone screen while he slapped the headphones onto his ear with the other.  Then, at last, he pulled his hoodie over his head, pushed his sunglasses over his eyes, and set the crown of his head on the chair back. Uncomfortable. He shifted.  It was a sixteen hour flight to London, and the plane was fully booked.  Jason rustled around his seat, agitated.  He’d finally settled in when a hand tapped against his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Jason focused on the older … Read More

17 Jan., 2018 – Nest

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

I always prune the trees in early spring.  It’s the perfect time of year for it.  The boughs are still bare, and the midday heat thaws the ice and snow well before the first leaves sprout.  Those are good days to be outside.  The trees show their age about that time, and the oldest limbs sag from the weight of the months-long snow.  I trim those — the old, the worn, the broken — so that newer branches can have their day. It’s in one of those fallen limbs that I find an empty nest.  There’s not much to it, … Read More

16 Jan., 2018 – Distant Ruins

Scott Summers365 Stories, Fantasy

Cyrilla shouldered out of her tent just after dawn, sword clamped tight in her fist as she stumbled into the cool, morning air.  The campfire in front of her, recently stoked with kindling and a fresh log, burned bright against the morning frost.  Past it, the body of another tent had been folded into a neat pile of poles and thin canvas beside a leather pack. Vanos was awake, then. Plodding down beside the fire, Cyrilla blinked and shook her head.  After all that talk around the fire last night about the vigor and vitality of youth, here she was … Read More

15 Jan., 2018 – Galaxy

Scott Summers365 Stories, 50 Word Stories, General Fiction

She had no words for the color of the night sky, when the cold air sharpened the stars to crystalline clarity.  They twinkled down at us from the galaxy above, bright and uncaring. I knew words for the shape of that beauty, but I had none to describe her own.

14 Jan., 2018 – New Shoes

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

The shoes came by post inside a box stuffed inside another box, those cardboard walls covered with corporate logos and shipping labels.  Derek tore through the packaging tape with a knife and pulled the unworn leather into the open air.  The scent wafted into his nose, and  Derek let it linger a moment before he kicked off his old shoes.  Then, he set his new shoes on the floor and stuffed his feet inside them. He’d been saving all summer for these.  A little each paycheck, like his parents said.  It made all those nights bagging beer and chips for … Read More

13 Jan., 2018 – Lens

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

Annie saw the world through an open window and a Minolta viewfinder, riding down I-10 from Tucson toward the East Coast and freedom.  The wind whipped loose strands of her hair into the frame until she tied it back, but every picture to El Paso would one day remind her to bring extra hair ties the next time they hit the road. They.  Herself, of course, and Thomas.  A duo.  A pair.  A couple?  No.  Not a couple.  Not yet, anyway.  Probably never, though Thomas thought otherwise. Click.  Click.  Click.  Down the highway.  She snapped the shutter-release for the sunrise … Read More

12 Jan., 2018 – Escape

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

Bess always wanted something more than a house with a white-picketed fence.  She was more interested in trains and planes than dolls and houses.  Gerod knew that better than anyone.  They were always together, down by the train tracks or roaming the hills in search of a good view. “Which way do you think the tracks run?” Bess asked. “What do you mean?” She pointed.  “Are they coming or going?” The question didn’t make any sense to Gerod, who shrugged. “I’m going to get out of here someday,” Bess told him. say.  She said it proudly, as though it were … Read More

11 Jan., 2018 – Vixen

Scott Summers365 Stories, General Fiction

My daughter is nine when she first sees the fox.  It prowls through stalks of sage and lavender, leaving little more than a rustle in its wake.  When she asks, I say that it is a vixen, a female, and she gapes through the windowpane at the slender body slinking through the underbrush. “I want to be a fox,” she proclaims. She immediately runs toward the door, but I catch her before she can frighten away her newfound friend. “Stay inside,” I say.  “You’ll scare it off if you open the door.” I expect an argument, but she perks up.  … Read More