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
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
Smokey sighed and sniffed the shirt front and wide-brimmed hat of the abandoned Park Ranger uniform. It had been dropped near the scenic overview, next to the Michigan-plated Lexus. Betsy likely hadn’t even noticed that her guide had paws, not hands and feet.
Betsy jogged through the underbrush, pounding her Calphalon saucepan with a designer stainless slotted spoon. The rhythm was irregular, to keep the grizzly ahead in a state of terrified confusion. Continue reading
Her 1997 Honda rocked and groaned through the narrow city streets.
She knew the moment her car crossed from affluent to impoverished neighborhood. Continue reading
She wrapped her hands around the hand-thrown mug, coffee scent misting the still-cold morning in an exhausted cloud. The metro newspaper lay splayed before her on the kitchen table, moaning headlines and sub-stories of international terror threats, environmental ruin, domestic violence, a floundering economy, and the collapse of another small local non-profit. Continue reading
He looked away from the waterfall and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m not ready. I don’t understand.”
The water tumbled and flashed, as if laughing at him. Continue reading
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
A.I. Art and Poetry
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
Chel Owens
Live music in St Paul Minnesota
pagan songs & tales
Poets Pub
Writing/Tales + Tails + Culture + Compassion
my views.. my way
Challenging the barriers of the way we define reality
Stories and thoughts about being a queer girl geek in the 21st Century.
Valley of the Trolls 