“What does she want?” the ocean wonders. “Is she here as supplicant, queen, or warrior?” Continue reading “A Desperate Balance”
The very first hour before sunrise is the most powerful time of day. Continue reading “The First Hour Before Sunrise”
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 “Only in Real Winter Dreams”
Lilimor slipped out the back gate, trotting to the meadow as fast as her little legs could carry her. She’d wanted to arrive at sunrise, before anyone noticed she was gone. Continue reading “Grim Harvest”
He stands on the bank where forest parts to sunrise on the rich strip of green, and lowers his muzzle to feed. Thick grass pops between his rotating jaws, snapping as he tears into clumps of equally satisfying roots.
Midnight river of earthy darkness tumbles into indigo coffee cup. It cuts the heavy silence of an empty house. A single tangelo, head snapped open, peel bent and bursting forth with the sharp scent of new ideas. I take my treasure out the front door. Continue reading “Morning Song”
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 “All the News That’s Fit to Print”