Frances Hogg Lochow

“The End of Bliss” by Frances Hogg Lochow

Her Aunt Rosie had a camera that could do that. If you looked through the lens while you pushed a little dial with your finger, the image would get bigger. It took a little while for the picture to come back into focus—but then you could do it again, and the image would get bigger still. Tammy had always liked playing with the camera. Liked leaning with her elbows on the windowsill, peering at bi...

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“The Call of Lawanda” by Frances Hogg Lochow

Submitted to Contest #184

Avi had once chided him about the GPS. “You can’t stand having a woman tell you what to do.” That little remark, made with love and in jest, nonetheless upset Jason. Because his insights about valuing the contributions, intellect and intuition of women and others was part of what had made the two of them wealthy men. So, Jason had grudgingly brought the GPS with h...

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“DUST” by Frances Hogg Lochow

Submitted to Contest #160

It came up from the west—an angry, roiling black wall a thousand feet high and moving at sixty miles an hour. Clayton saw it coming and threw a tarp over the chicken coop. He put the mule and cow into the cowshed and tied grain sacks loosely over their heads. Olive stuffed damp tea cloths and sheets into the cracks around the doors and windows, though she knew nothing she did would be enough to stop the dust. As suffocat...

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“The Inheritance” by Frances Hogg Lochow

Submitted to Contest #154

“For his grandson, Eric, I will translate,” said the white-haired lawyer.Eric felt embarrassed. Why was this old guy rubbing his face in it? Was it his fault that his mother died when he was a baby, so he had never learned to speak Chinese?Mr. Po settled his spectacles on his nose and looked at the document in his hand. “Chen Wang provides to Ling-Yu, his eldest daughter, the jade horse.” Everyone clapped as an assistant handed a statuette of a galloping green horse to the lady sitting across from Eric....

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“The White Woman” by Frances Hogg Lochow

Submitted to Contest #144

Antony hefted his equipment bags to his shoulder and watched the lights on the elevator panel tick upward. When the doors opened, he saw her at the end of the hall. She wore a long, black coat and held a shopping bag in one arm as she fitted the key into her lock. He was struck by two things—her abundance of platinum-white hair that fell past her slender hips, and the pure-white Afghan hound that waited patiently at her ...

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