She hunches over the library table, and rubs planed fingers over an already-slick forehead. Canadian forests are burning in the northwest, and the haze is thick, humidity high from last night’s rains. Her other fingers wander back and forth across a college-ruled composition book, cheap pen jagging with arrhythmia. In search of inspiration, but there is none to be found. Continue reading
inspiration
Blank, Blank, Energy Breakthrough
The room sits at low-tide. Eddies twirl sluggish through muddy gray waters. Slow eyelids blink, sleepy frogs gathered ‘round in a circle. We hope that gathering and moving pen across paper will stir enough energy in this morning’s free-association writing group to stir those eddies into rivulets of free-flowing inspiration. Continue reading
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
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 