Meredith Harmon
Bio
Mix equal parts anthropologist, biologist, geologist, and artisan, stir and heat in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, sprinkle with a heaping pile of odd life experiences. Half-baked.
Achievements (21)
Stories (426)
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Gamble
I was so over it. I was so done with her sulks and whininess. I thought I could do this on my own now. I couldn't lose at the table! Any of the tables, for that matter. From the poker tournament to the craps tables to the blackjack tables, it was all about Me. My rolls, my witty quips, my flashing the cards and rattling the chips and scaring the big rollers into folding.
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Fiction
The Weaving. Runner-Up in Behind the Last Window Challenge.
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She sighed, again. Over and over, every life, every cycle. Same day, different millennia. The shape of her body changed, but not the Work. Not the threads, not the rules, not the weave.
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Fiction
Holiday Hijinks
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. And I wished I were anywhere else but here. Don't get me wrong. I love the mountains. I love the cold, the snow, the snug way the cabin feels when there's nowhere to go and all you need to do is drink hot chocolate and play card games. Or pull out the snowshoes, or make a snowman. What I don't love is the people I'd be spending this particular vacation with.
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Fiction
Keystone
I was sipping coffee, watching the snow falling gently, when the tap-tap-tap on the sliding door made me look up. There was a drone. "Well, that's a new one," I thought, watching it bob up and down. I put down my coffee and walked over, and it dipped towards my covered WELCOME mat. The blades swept snow away, and it neatly deposited a little box on the partially uncovered C.
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Fiction
The Pie Police and Other Stories of a MIL From Heck
My mother-in-law was quite the piece of work. I'm sure you know the type - classic narcissist. Luckily the two things that saved me and my husband were that she was dumb as a brick (and that's insulting to bricks everywhere), and that I had an inkling of intuition that moved her favorite target (my hubby) six hours' drive away from her vitriol.
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Families
