This CNF by @pennypriddy (from the @PitheadChapel archives) is the kind of typical lyrical brilliance I expect and adore from Mollie McLean, a friend with whom I've enjoyed workshopping in @SmokeLong Fitness over the years. The repetitive water images and poetic word choices pull you through the heartbreaking story, leaving you breathless at the end. 💔 "The air smelled of salt, of decay, of things given back to the water. A seagull’s shriek pierced the sky; I lay there burning and longed for England. In England the water is cold. The sky is gray, like my heart full of nails—my heart, another God-given machine." #archivechallenge Pulling Mussels from A Shell pitheadchapel.com/pulling-mu…

"I learn from the nurse that “lac” is short for “laceration” in ER-speak. I think, My daughter has a lac, adding a “k” in my mind. What does she lack? What can I give her when I lack so much myself? I know, before the nurse says it, that my daughter isn’t going home tonight. I wish I wasn’t, either." So much heartache in this CNF written by the brilliant @mooninabucket (from the @PitheadChapel archives). The details are so raw, they take you right there to that ER. My chest hurt and I wanted to hold this mother's hand as I read how helpless she felt. My God, parenthood is truly the scariest hood you'll ever go through. #archivechallenge When My Daughter Says She Cut Herself at School pitheadchapel.com/when-my-da…

Ask me what I love about this flash CNF by Liam Carnahan from the @PitheadChapel archives and I'll tell you, "EVERYTHING!" The craft, the tension, the unforgettable ending! 👏 #archivechallenge "Ask me how my mother died, and I’ll tell you what was written on the death certificate: blunt force trauma. A description that makes my mother’s death seem like one of the murders we used to watch on Dateline NBC and 20/20, when she insisted on stroking my hair while I rested on her lap, falling asleep while Diane Sawyer pieced together a crime. But my mother did not die of homicide. There was no murder weapon, unless you count a pane of glass, a few feet of asphalt. Ask me how my mother died, I’ll tell you: It was her passion for used furniture." Ask Me How My Mother Died pitheadchapel.com/ask-me-how…

The Snow in Duluth pitheadchapel.com/the-snow-i… “The dream oak tree in my dream yard moves slightly with the dream breeze. If the boy and I were to ride on top of that bumpy bus from Pokhara to Varanasi again, our young skin taught and sweaty in the midday heat, would I let his knee touch mine?” I love the speculative dreamscape and “what ifs” in this CNF by Lisa Thornton from the @PitheadChapel archives. #archivechallenge