Red lights glow in outlying huts of the tiny village of Paanai-phat. Red lights signify the deadly fever is high, though flood waters have receded somewhat. Farther out, hearth fires have been snuffed with no family alive to feed them. Continue reading
art
The Mandala
Nora reached two fingers towards the mound of shaving cream on the tiny table. Sliding her fingers across and down, she palmed the foam, squishing it flat and rotating her hand slowly. Continue reading
The Art of Creation (or vice versa)
In the beginning, there was darkness. No movement. No sound nor smell. Continue reading
Where Nothing is Wasted, Nothing is Lost
Pushing the goggles back on her forehead, she waved away the acrid smoke and smiled. Continue reading
Worth Preserving
“Enough of that,” he snapped off the television and stepped onto the back porch. Easing into a wooden rocking chair, he cupped his hands around his coffee, Continue reading
Blackguards in Christmas Town
Corky tipped the bill of her cap back and scratched her forehead, staring up the length of the tall pine.
Valley of the Trolls 