In the beginning, there was darkness. No movement. No sound nor smell. Continue reading
Fantasy
Where Nothing is Wasted, Nothing is Lost
Pushing the goggles back on her forehead, she waved away the acrid smoke and smiled. Continue reading
Wrestling with the Midnight Muse
Somewhere up above the viscous fog that rolled and knotted itself across the meadow between fen and family farm, the moon shone full, a cold silver shield in the night sky. Continue reading
The Watcher
Joseph leaned against the hardware store’s outside wall, impatiently tapping his fingers. Its surface was cool in the shade of what promised to be another scorcher. He drew on his cigarette, then used the same hand to slide his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. His fingers trembled and the ash dropped to the dirty sidewalk.
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Rainbows and Valentines
Nora sat on a low rock, head tipped to one side. The meadow’s shallow pond flashed morning’s sun and last night’s shadows. Continue reading
Sticks and Stones
Two boys huddled on the battlement wall, wind-blown and on fire with An Idea.
Between them the small catapult waited, fragrant with fresh-tanned leather straps. A pile of stones glittered, rubbed free of ocean, with chapped hands and tunics needing a wash. Continue reading
What Darkness Inspires
There was little light in the cellar, but it was nothing to the darkness of the army of boot heels sinking into the bloody ground overhead. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 