Karen Pickrell

Flyboy

Writing

My school librarian, Ms. Flea, turned into a fly on the fourth day of fifth grade. I don’t know why I swallowed the fly. Perhaps I’ll die. Either that or I’ll become a bookworm. Instead, I just kept shushing everybody.  “Stop being the talking police, Henry. It’s irritating,” snapped Fern.  So, I did the only thing a librarian eating boy…
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Plant Killer

Writing

Ms. Basil’s class always plants grass in white Styrofoam cups in spring. “Do I have to plant one?” I plead. What Ms. Basil doesn’t know is… I don’t have a green thumb. And whatever I put in that little cup is doomed. “It will never grow,” I protest. But Ms. Basil doesn’t listen. Each week, we look for signs of…
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Neighborhood Watch

Writing

I tried to tell my mom, “Location, location, location,” but she wouldn’t listen. And now, our new house overlooks the haunted mansion next door. “But mom, that place looks creepy and covered in soot.” “It’s just rustic,” she said. “And why are some windows boarded up? What do they have to hide?” “Oh, Sherlock. You’re so suspicious.” Watson rolled his…
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Sassy In Spring

Writing

Did you know it’s officially spring today? Not that it matters. Yeah. The snow is melting. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. All the normal signs of the season. But I’m stuck inside. All because I was sassy. “Go upstairs and think about your tone, Gwyneth,” mother said. “And while you’re at it, clean your room.” So, I’m…
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I Need a Hero

Writing

I came dressed for the part. I take my role very seriously. How am I supposed to save the world with this ragtag team? Who’s in charge of wardrobe here? Who ever heard of Captain America with a blue beaded necklace and a dinosaur bucket? And who cast this leading lady? This super model princess towers over me. She’s twice…
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