Streams of consciousness come from all quarters,
Hurrying to create a sense of balance,
To find peace in some blessed gathering place.
Our origins are underground, but
We tumble down waterfalls,
Stretch and roll along shores both verdant and blasted,
Before resting in an ocean
That may need to cover the entire world before the end times. Continue reading
Source: Matt Fraser
“I’ll get that for you,” murmured Kathy, sighing, as she rose to fetch her mother’s favorite wool blanket; it had been in the family for ages, but it was the one Elinore had always favored. Continue reading
Winslow Homer 1893
The falling snow piled around his hut, the shelter he’d built at the edge of the woods, from stone and fallen trees, meadow grass and mud, the retreat that was far enough away from the Hold that he rarely got visitors, but near enough that he could watch the lights wink out in the north tower when the weather was clear. Continue reading
Prompt from Carrot Ranch is “Author’s Chair.” I chose to dream of where Vision begins.
Stepping from the top of one tree to middle of the other, she slides toward the trunk, tests each step. Continue reading
Sister Indelicata left the cacophony of squeals and laughter behind her; the tall, hardwood door sneezed delicately shut, blessing the happy, healed family. Indelicata’s bare feet whispered swift and sure, softer than the guttering of the beeswax candles that provided more scent than light. Continue reading