Lynn Henschel
Achievements (1)
Stories (18)
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A Hard Day’s Fright
VOCAL: Graveyard Smash One of the benefits of being fifty-one years old is that I have amassed quite a catalog of music. Aside from what I actually own, I enjoy a wide variety of genres, with my favorite probably being 70’s and 80’s rock. I’m also a huge movie fan, and horror movies have always held a special place in my heart. I know it sounds weird: why would someone want to be deliberately scared? I wish I had a good answer to that. But being scared, or even just being thrilled and titillated with anticipation, is fun to me. Being scared makes me feel alive. And what’s better that curling up with your BFF or your better half and holding onto each other for dear life because of a scary movie or TV show?
By Lynn Henschel4 years ago in Beat
Maggie
It was the summer of 1976. I was six years old, and as usual, my parents and I were on our annual camping trip to Nickerson State Park in Cape Cod. We were accompanied by three more pairs of aunts and uncles and a total of fourteen cousins, all sharing three adjoining campsites. We were like a commune but without the weirdness.
By Lynn Henschel4 years ago in Humans
Harrowing Delight
VOCAL: pear tree challenge Harrowing Delight I had finally hit twenty-five years at my police job, which meant that I could retire with a pension. Since we met, my husband, Charlie, had been biding his time until I hit this milestone. As a bridge engineer, he had been forced to only take jobs within driving distance of our house on Long Island Sound in Connecticut. He hated his current project in the Bronx and now we could finally move anywhere in the country. So in mid-September when a firm in Virginia responded to his resumé, we packed up and moved.
By Lynn Henschel4 years ago in Fiction
Round and Green
VOCAL contest: Green light It was New Year’s Eve, 1987, and I was sitting on a dock on the St. Lawrence River, the infamous Thousand Islands, with my husband, Jeff. The night was clear and dark, with the moon just beginning to wax. It was 4°F and the River was frozen solid. The quiet was almost deafening: no insects, no animals, no people, and not even fireworks. So different from the decades of summers my family had spent here at our cottage. We were all alone for a cozy, quiet, long weekend for New Year’s Eve.
By Lynn Henschel4 years ago in Fiction
Soap in the Grass
VOCAL Marigold Short Story Competition: Soap in the Grass I had been longing for Cape Cod since my last visit over eleven years ago. Growing up in New York, we would spend every summer camping at Nickerson Park, and riding our bicycles on the twenty-two mile path that cut through the greenery where sand was not so plentiful. October on the Cape was a comfy, charming, well-kept secret, or so said my cousin, Morgan, who moved there permanently after high school. With a sprawling house that bordered the bike path, staying with him would be the perfect, autumn long weekend.
By Lynn Henschel4 years ago in Fiction
