He loved fruitcake, and he always said that hers was never as good as his mother’s. Like with everything else. So, for one more time she set out the ingredients on the counter: flour, sugar, butter, pecans, raisins, arsenic, cherries, cinnamon, nutmeg and rum. Lots of rum.
She hated fruitcake.
Peggy Acott makes her home in the Pacific NW, with a partner, dog, large garden, and some would say an outrageous number of books.
Her writing includes fiction, non-fiction and poetry, along with an active journal and letter-writing practice. Her fiction has appeared both in print and online, including Spadina Literary Review, Cactus Heart Press, and PDX Writers, among others. She was co-author of the book “Portland Made: the makers of Portland’s manufacturing renaissance.” She was a semi-finalist in The Writer Magazine’s Summer 2022 Flash Fiction Contest, and is currently deep into the second draft of her first novel. See more at peggyacott.wordpress.com.