Fiction A Warm Place (III) After a moon had passed, none of us could rise from our furs, weakened by my grandfathers curse. We watched helpless as another one of the children succumbed to the wasting of the curse, and I vowed it was the last.
Fiction The Warm Place (II) Lack of food during our long hunt for the cave must have weakened us, for even the womenfolk were capable of faster digging than the hunting party. Our newcomers brought the last of the village’s food with them, the winter stores of dried venison and hard bread
Fiction The Warm Place The approaching thunder warned us of the coming apocalypse. Long shadows cast across the mountains of a rugged range. Peaks worn and weathered by the stains of time. Echoes of past memories, imprinted through the ever-changing landscape. Tents of our forefathers, falling down around our ears.
Fiction Raspberry jello We’d sit, working out, playing games, smoking, just to ease the boredom, and then boom: the red light would flash, the siren would sound, and we’d rush out to the latest inter-dimensional transportation disaster.
Fiction Bar He sits, and watches, drinking, the gun sits heavy on his hip, its dark wooden handle rubbed to a polish by the hands of lawmen and murderers alike. His eyes rove around the dimly lit bar, as a wordless tune warbles from half-blown speakers overhead, fuzzing and hissing with every drum beat.
Sci-Fi Sand (III) Once more into the sand I grip my knees until the bones creak. Deep heaving breaths, trying to calm down. Bad idea. I cough and spit granules of sand spitefully back onto the ground, adding my precious water to replenish the torched oasis, can’t wash the horror away. Who would murder a whole village?
Sci-Fi Sand (II) Still Sanding He flips display lenses down over his goggles, a praying mantis, and adjusts his one-handed claw grip on the controller. Schmidt stands next to him, covering with his rifle. The high-pitched whine of tiny electric motors pierce through the wind whipping against our ears as the drone takes flight.
Sci-Fi Sand The scorching heat of the desert wind blows fiercely over the sand, piling and sculpting it, building tiny rivulets into mighty dunes that tower over us, flying between them, we speed toward the drop zone.
Fiction Chains They chained him to the aft railing as the sun beat down on his sandy, unwashed hair. The sails above hung limp above, the only movement from crew and the ship itself as
Blog Break Life has been busy since November and I haven't had as much time to dedicate to writing as I'd like. A sixty day sabbatical, except with stress and life events, instead of unwinding
Fiction Rocking “It touched me, it touched me, and they washed me clean.” The girl sits, long brown hair covering her face, rocking back and forth, on a sea foam floor, chin on her knees,
Horror Ritual The mirrors that surround the altar amplify the flickering light of the candles as they sway from chains wrapped around wrinkled hands. Robes and chanting, swaying and muttering, everything flickers, the sound, the lights.
Falling Star Shore Leave Life was good, Jack thought, as he stepped through the hatch of the bar, and out into the kaleidoscopic light of the promenade. Above him, the neon signs were flashing, advertising the stations'
Falling Star The Dream I was falling again, like before, this time landing in a body of water. An ocean? A river? I had no way to tell. Not this again, not this nightmare. Not falling and
Sci-Fi Auggies I drove the slender spike into his brain, up through the eye socket and deep into the grey matter. Making sure to wiggle, stir it around a little, didn't want forensics recovering anything,
Falling Star Blank She was there when he woke, just like he knew she’d be. Leaning over him, like she’d done a million times before in half-remembered dreams. She was so beautiful, easing the
Rick & Tabitha Clifftop The banshee shrieks of the beast above tore Rick from his feverish nightmares, reality snapping into focus as a finger of dread touched his heart; what new phantasms erupted into this wretched hell?
Fiction The Desert Tabitha trudged through the sandy desert under the cool moonlight, shivering as the wind rose; whipping the sand into little tornadoes and chilling her to the bone. Sun and moon traded places in
Fiction Fixer The pain was a constant in Jane's life. Womanly pains, childbirth pains, man pains, the pain of cleaning, the pain of cooking. Oh, god, her life was so boring. She was turning into
Fiction Too late She jumps from the moving train, not waiting for it to slow, her only thought; getting there in time to save him. Her skirt flies above her knees as she runs recklessly, off
Poetry Gravity Swept up in the whirlwind of my insanity I picture gravity It draws me And I it The swirling continuum of our masses Colliding gradually Shattered tragedy Bird of flight Taken down into
Fiction Kiss When we kiss I taste your sorrow. Your sadness gladdens my heart, staunches my wounds. The desecration of your soul bathes me in beauty; I can finally see the wonder in something broken.
Falling Star Capture I wake to a sharp spike of pain as a fist deforms my solar plexus. A face swaying in and out of focus as I look out through tears and bruised eyes. The
Falling Star Coils Not this again, not these hallucinations. He couldn’t tell if he was awake or dreaming. It had been at least fifteen days since he’d let himself drift to sleep. Not wanting
Falling Star Rush The air rushed past my face, exhilarating, loud in my ears. The travel posters were right, “See the view!” they said, and the view was incredible. You could see for miles from up
