by kira.dorward | Jul 26, 2021 | Fiction, SpeakEasy Media
Hulda Once there lived on Point au Pelee An Indian maiden blithe and gay, Who often from her birch canoe Would spear the spotted salmon through. Pride of her Chieftain father’s heart, She oft would through the wild woods dart, And with her bow and arrow raised Would...
by kira.dorward | Dec 29, 2020 | Fiction
Published by sadgirlsclub: https://www.sadgirlsclublit.com/post/the-millpond-kira-wronska Everyone called it the Millpond. Built by an enterprising gentleman to run his saw mill a hundred and twenty-five years before, the less-than-mighty but still prominent Humber...
by kira.dorward | Mar 14, 2018 | Fiction, Uncategorized
It was eight forty-three on one of those listless Canadian March days that make one think that winter never ends, the snow never melts, and that nothing interesting ever happens. The weak winter light filtered through the blinds of the room and stirred Alexandra from...
by kira.dorward | Mar 12, 2018 | Fiction
They named it Daedalus. Daedalus because it- no, he- had flown like no other with wings of marvellous construction. Spotted by satellite caught in Mars’ eccentric orbital pull, scientists were dumbfounded. The rough images conveyed depicted a figure like a man but not...
by kira.dorward | Feb 8, 2013 | Fiction
Marie Gachet was not a woman to make small concessions. In whatever she did, she was beyond reproach. She had been born and raised in Auvers-sur-Oise, the valley town beyond the hills of Paris. Upon the hill of the town rested the church. From its vantage point...
by kira.dorward | Oct 4, 2012 | Fiction
She remembered the summer for its smell. The summer of the garbage strike when the air was weighted with a rot that could not be ignored. One weekend that summer, she stepped onto the subway, surveying the train for a seat away from anyone else. She chose an empty...
