What Is Creative Colloquy?

Creative Colloquy is a submission based  literary site.

It’s our aim to share the South Sound’s rich literary talents and foster relationships built upon our mutual admiration of the written word.

 

New Stories for 12/08/2014

This week we have four holiday stories and one for those who aren’t into the whole yule thing, enjoy.

A Backwoods Christmas By Titus Burley

catandhatPoppa spit chaw into his little Sanka can and told ma and the two progeny, “Put your thermals on. We gonna trek to the woods and haul back our Christmas tree.”

Momma rubbed the breading for the okra off her fingers and sniffed them once before wiping them clean on her checkerboard patterned apron. “Snow likely by evening. You sure ’bout this?”

“Might’s well.”

Daughter Amy smiled a big gap tooth grin. “Let’s get the best one, Daddy. Missus Merton letting us make ornments during free time.”

“Dress like you mean it,” reminded Ma. “If the squall comes early, lil’ brother gonna have a hard time keeping up.” Lil brother was Malcolm, called simple by those who loved him and half-wit by the crueler town folk.

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Ribbon Candy by Ellen Miffitt

EllenThe satin luster of ribbon candy resembles the reflections from the Christmas tree lights on colorful glass ornaments; it’s not clear enough to actually reflect anything but the surface gives the illusion. My grandmother always had a pressed-glass bowl of ribbon candy set out for the Christmas holiday. I don’t remember her having a tree those last few Christmases but the overflowing bowl of ribbons was a tradition during the holiday. As a teenager no one else I knew set out a bowl of ribbon candy for their guests; candy canes, mints, mixed nuts or a box of chocolates replaced the fragile old fashioned treat that had a propensity to get sticky with moist air. The intricate patterns of colored sugar were fascinating as they wove the length of the candy. How did they make it loop back and forth so precisely?

The McNeill family had grown so large that no one had a house big enough to hold everyone for the Christmas Day gathering so a small church hall was rented. My oldest aunt was twenty years older than my mother and her children were close in age to my Mom. Each of the oldest aunts had five children each; the older of my first cousins were married and had children while some cousins brought their dates to the dinner…

To continue reading Ribbon Candy, click here.

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Buckminster Holiday Letter by Jennevieve Schlemmer

JennevieveWell, happy holidays everyone! Another year has flown by and it is time for the holiday letter from the Buckminster household!

First of all, we who chose to live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, earthquake capitol of the world, are thankful to have gone another year without the “BIG ONE” striking. I know the Lord is looking out for us here but Tom convinced me it was time we put together an earthquake preparedness kit just in case. Better to have a little extra insurance. With the new Republican Congress assembling in January, who knows what plagues might come upon us? Remember, He helps those that help themselves!

To continue reading Buckminster Holiday Letter, click here.

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Season’s Greetings by Michelle Nikisch

Michelle 2“Season’s greetings!” A commonly heard phrase this time of year. The holiday season seemingly starting in summertime. Store shelves stocked with Santa-themed silliness earlier than the 4th of July is underway.

“Season’s greetings!” Season of life, season of year, seasoning for a good savory stew. Joni Mitchell pops into my head, “And the seasons they go round and round…we’re captive on the carousel of time.” For me, greeting the seasons is starting to take on wider meaning, not just a holiday greeting, but an invitation to look at the seasons of life, the beginnings and endings, the natural cycles. As a mother, my own children’s beginnings and endings are often my main focus. Their pictures with Santa from the previous year bring their astonishing growth into glaring view.

To continue reading Season’s Greeting, click here.

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Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner? By Christian Carvajal

Carv Author PhotoThe Ninjas were just sitting down when President Mendoza arrived, her Secretary of State in anxious tow. I was there by virtue of being one of the handful of American linguists capable of reproducing the apical velar stops, retroflex implosives, and tonal distinctions of our visitors’ formal dialect. Yes, the Ninjas can sit, though it stretches their pelvic joints backward in a curve that strikes unprepared observers as obscene. We call them Ninjas or Keplings partly because their actual name for themselves contains two lateral trills, and good luck with that. It’s also worth noting that Keplan Tradespeak uses nominative diacritics, so if you don’t know how to incorporate those, you could accidentally call them a similar noun they’d consider an act of war. These creatures bent space and evaded relativity to travel 1200 light-years from Kepler 62-e, so it’s a war they’d win without breaking a sweat. And yes, they do sweat. Their perspiration smells like cucumber. It’s lovely. I mean that.

To continue reading Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner, click here.