Liz Masoner

Liz comes from a long line of tall tale tellers, and with 8 aunts and uncles there were stories a plenty. She was told as a child to “read the encyclopedia” when bored. So she did. She read “The Old Man and the Sea” in 6th grade because she found it in the town library, not because it was ever assigned. By high school she had more story notebooks than class notebooks.

Today she has less time for fiction writing because, well (she says), being a grown up isn’t as much fun as we thought it’d be when we were kids. Photographer by trade, she teaches photography on the Internet in addition to writing about food, pets, and crafts.

You can currently find more of Liz’s work at: http://wizzley.com/authors/LizM/ and http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/liz-masoner.html. You can also follow her on Twitter.

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Round 14 Winner

Bette breathed deep, the damp musty scent of fresh earth burning her lungs. Something about that scent, that promise of new life to come, was always irresistible. The fog hid the city beyond the fields; the city she had left nearly a year earlier when the call came. The plague had wiped out nearly everyone and a return to the fields, unused for generations, was the only hope. Return to the earth, work the fields, bring forth the harvest.

Bette smiled at the arrival of the other survivors. They stretched the length of the field, one for every four sprouts expected. They strained their eyes for signs of the first growth. A moment later a shout of joy erupted as the first were spotted. With giddy laughter they filed into their places, marveling over the yellow, brown, red, and black tufts now dotting the earth. The survivors took their places across the field and readied their knives. A quick bite into flesh and Bette fell, knowing that in a few hours the harvest would mature. Fed by the blood of the survivors the next generation would spring forth with all the knowledge of the last, ready to rebuild the world.