Writing - Morgan Broadhead

Great Expectations

We’re finally getting our kitchen installed. We’ve been living in this house five years now. Or six. Ten? I dunno. I’ve lost

Sometimes the writing feels like throwing chunks of broken bricks into an abandoned lot. I pass by that lot every day, usually

I feel like I owe William Shatner, Gene Roddenberry, the entire cast of Star Trek, and Trekkies all around the world a

It’s weird to think Christmas is just around the corner. Only five weeks left, kids! You can feel it in the air,

I feel sorry for this trail horse. The bridle is rusty. That can’t taste good. The leathers are worn and cracked. I’m

The battlement walls have crumbled. The moat has been filled in and paved over. The flags, brightly colored and snapping in the

He gripped the steering wheel and drove along the dark two-lane, headlights on, his cruise control switched off. Ahead of him, single

Sweat dripped off Malcolm’s forehead. Tears blurred his vision. Saliva coated his throat like hot tar. “You like that, Agent Kinnison?” The

Jamari was soaked. The mossy rock hadn’t felt slick when he tested it before crossing. But like everything else in this forest,

Signs were everywhere as he coasted into the gas station. On his dashboard, a yellow Low Fuel light next to the orange

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” the toad said, and gave a little croak. Despite his insistence, the princess held onto

Listen to the sound ofThe dripping of water,Etching the face of the rock.Changes through time and Eons of history,Spinning the hands of

“Where are they all going, dad?” I capped my binoculars, and she zipped them back into my pack. “To their deaths,” I

“What made you think this was the way?”Said the man who lost our map.His charger broke, his phone blacked out,And our navigation

If I don’t kill it, it will crawl on me in the night. It will bite me under my covers. It will