Tree prints on dark’ning sky
Dusk comes, a soft quilt Continue reading
It lay,
A thin blanket over vibrant late summer.
Silent white, still as death,
Satisfying in its containment.
The very first hour before sunrise is the most powerful time of day. Continue reading
He lay the quill down beside his Manifesto, reaching to close the cap on the near-empty inkwell. Continue reading
Spoon coffee grounds into the BPA-free filter, the scent a bright hit in the ice-crystal kitchen. Cat slurps his morning meal, shoulders hunched protectively over his bowl. Continue reading
She rolls in flickering blue and white, darts between other bodies, slick and shining, touching but not colliding. Breaching, she leaps into the moon, heavy with promised bounty. She swallows silver light, joyfully sated as it fills her center. Continue reading
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
A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.
It's All True, None of It's True. Don't Ask.
Words of a clarklike female
A writing blog by H.R.R. Gorman
To participate in the Ragtag Daily Prompt, create a Pingback to your post, or copy and paste the link to your post into the comments. And while you’re there, why not check out some of the other posts too!
Fiction Writing
Lance Greenfield - Night Writer
“Beauty was not simply something to behold; it was something one could do.” – Toni Morrison
Original Writing Inspired by King, Poe, and The Twilight Zone
Walk On The Wild Side