Check out The Sun magazine contributor, Sparrow, on 100 Word Story Anthology.

Trails of broken stalks
across the mountain cornfield
–winter’s labyrinth.  ~me

—

Notice every shade
of green against winter sky
–while counting snowflakes.  ~me

Every night I post a few tweets with the hashtag #twitternovel. Each tweet can be no more than 140 characters, and things have got to move fast. Composed while typing, here’s what I’ve written so far.

In snowy wind, deer
topple Charlie Brown porch tree
—nibbling in moonlight. ~me

Against winter sky
the orchard’s stark symmetry
—charcoal branches swirl.

___

The kitchen sink drips
and refrigerator hums
—soundscape for writing.

I’m always thrilled when writers contribute to 100 Word Story Anthology. It’s been a while since I tried to write one, so I thought I’d go for it today. This piece came from a haiku I wrote this morning. Hope you enjoy it, and don’t forget to visit 100 Word Story Anthology.

Symmetry

Imagine the stark symmetry that created these apples—you said—rows and rows of trees, craggy with wind and months of frozen Upstate winter, which can somehow coax blooms again. You pulled a cap that I’d knitted for you closer to your eyes. I remembered finding the yarn, thinking immediately of your skin, the way our first summer had changed you into someone I’d never seen before. You were like that. With every season, I saw a different person. Now, walking through autumn in Union Square, we’d been a couple for over a year, and you were talking about orchards.

Lately, I’ve been working on a NYC rain and snow series, many of the images shot at night. This is an older picture, an Instagram, made in the Village several months ago. It’s one of my favorite iPhone pics—and since the mood’s a little rainy today, I thought I’d post it.

Early snowstorm in Manhattan, and fall becomes winter at the edge of Columbus Avenue. Magnolia Bakery’s windows, a chained bicycle, crinkled leaves and blue neon light reflected on snow lured me out of the car and into the cold.