Articles written by Marsha Sigman in Creative Writing

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About me - Marsha Sigman

My name is Marsha Sigman and I am from Texas. I am not sure why I always add that as if in someway this defines me. Maybe it does.

I have a full time business career that I enjoy but my real passion is writing.

Words are power and I am in love with the written

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Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: End of the world: 1 of 85
When the Bible bit me I knew it was the end. I had woken from a sound sleep an hour ago, hearing alarms going off in the street and the first of the screams. The screams were gone now, receding in the distance as people ran trying to escape the hell that had come for them. "You can run but you can't hide," I hysterically gig... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Forgiveness: 4 of 122
Forgiveness I had to forgive him I had no choice you see It came down to him or me. I could not let him win Time and time again. The anger never leaving Eating me, changing me shaping my perception. What was real or just more deception? I had to let it go To finally end his control. I forgave him and set it free. Do you see?... More..
Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: My first job: 1 of 21
My first job is one that I do not enjoy speaking about. I have never added it to a resume. I have tried to block the entire experience from my memory. It was three weekends of pure torture. I had just turned 16 years old. My father felt that if I could not purchase what I wanted on my $5 a week allowance then I must not real... More..
Creative Writing > Novel Excerpts Novel excerpts: Murder: 2 of 39
I tugged the body the last few feet to the open hole I had made in the backyard. Sweat trickled down into my eyes and I paused long enough to swipe at it with the back of my hand. God, he had let himself get so fat. I had to sit down in the dirt and brace my feet against his side to shove him those last few inches into the h... More..
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: The secret keys to happiness: 13 of 114
The secret to happiness is different for all of us. Most of us are so caught up in the pursuit of it that we wouldn't know happiness if we were rolling in it. The first paragraph in the Declaration of Independence states that all men are created equal, with certain unalienable rights. Those rights are life, liberty, and the ... More..
Creative Writing > Humor Humor: Fantasy: 16 of 79
Hangin' with Stephen King I walked into the cozy, dimly lit pub and he was waiting for me at the bar. As I took a seat on the stool next to him, I raised a hand at the bartender and he brought me the usual. Cold Miller Lite on tap. I didn't speak until the glass was in front of me and of course being the polite gentlemen tha... More..
Creative Writing > Humor Humor: Lies: 3 of 13
I am a compulsive liar. My only comfort is that I am not alone. My entire family shares in this compulsion. I feel that my addiction to lying comes from a sense of creativity while my husband's stems from memory loss and a warped sense of humor. We limit this horrible habit to family members only of course. We do not lie to ... More..
Creative Writing > Humor Humor: Going to the hospital: 8 of 27
I awoke to my husband screaming my name. When I opened my eyes all I could see were flames inches from my face. I screamed and immediately rolled off the bed. I flopped around on the floor for a few minutes, certain my long hair was on fire. It was not; it was the pillows that were burning merrily away and half of our bed wi... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Growing old: 58 of 190
I looked in the mirror today, then quickly looked away. I wonder who is it I see? I know it can't be me. Time has come and played, delaying all the plans I made. Then just as quickly, time has flown. Look at how the children have grown. Am I where I wanted to be? Did I do all that I said I would? Too many things left to do, ... More..
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Battered women: 10 of 30
She hated him. She hated him so much that her teeth were gritted with it. She sat in the corner of the bedroom nursing her bruises, glad that at least she had marked him too. It was always worse when she tried to fight back. He was not going to get away with what he had done. One too many times, this time she was leaving. Sh... More..