Leadbelly sidled up to the bar, tossing a small leather bag on the counter. His boot hooked over the bar rail, spurs jangling, as he leaned toward the buxom barkeep. Continue reading
fiction
A Midsummer’s Dear John
Dearest Oberon,
Although I swore to renew our vows this Midsummer’s Night, I cannot in good conscience re-marry you. Your cruel joke on Nick Bottom backfired, and I’m still pissed that you snatched my changeling to make him one of your warriors. Continue reading
The Art of Creation (or vice versa)
In the beginning, there was darkness. No movement. No sound nor smell. Continue reading
Aphelotés Gets It Done
We’d planned it down to the last detail, listed everything we could control and those things that we could not. Continue reading
A Secret Garden (In defiance of more snow & cold)
She closes her eyes, imagining the garden in springtime. 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
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
Valley of the Trolls 