She knew the caverns like the back of her hand at this point, and was able to navigate to the furthest reaches, into the darkest corners, without need of light. Continue reading
water
Sunday Morning
I lift my paddle for a moment, hearing but not noting the drip of water that slides off its smooth, blond curve. My canoe slices through the morning cool, bisecting and self-healing the waters as I pass. Below the dark water, silent lake grass caresses sand and small, secret pebbles. Continue reading
Water Walker
The days were endless, the nights not long enough. She was tired, but too well-rested. She had all she needed to restore her health, but was weary of doing the work to rejoin the world.
Noted
I dreamt last night of snow.
It lay,
A thin blanket over vibrant late summer.
Silent white, still as death,
Satisfying in its containment.
Cool Water or Writer’s Block?
The firefighter pulled off his helmet, face streaked with sweat and dust from a raging fire, now controlled.
He’d single-handedly saved an even dozen citizens that night. He felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down into the wide eyes of a tiny tot.
“Thanks, Mister!” the child lisped. “Want a TMCoke and a smile?”
“Thanks, but I’d rather have some cool water.”
“Good choice!”
(No. Just…No. Highlight, then delete.)
