Those Were the Days

A Vignette

As you get older, your experiences… the paths you’ve walked in life… all you know and have become (and what or who made you that way) rest in your memories. They sleep… but they’re there, yes they are and sometimes they’re lively and churn around. A sound, a smell, a picture; some little thing shakes […]

AVAILABLE FOR ORDER | On 7th Street, An Angel Fell

Below on the left is an image that caught my eye, and as happens often, it made me think of the story behind it. Was it an accident? A suicide? And then I realized—with her outstretched arms, hair whipping over her eyes—she looked like a lost and falling angel. What could cause her to fall? […]

EXCERPT ‘On 7th Street, An Angel Fell’

The Opening

Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light? Or just another lost angel… City of Night…” —Jim Morrison   She had misjudged when they would take her wings; punishment for her questions, her doubts. For her the fall was real. Pain. She knew that was what they—humans—called it. But had never felt […]

‘Thou Shalt Not | Thou Shalt Not | Thou Shall’

Flashfiction

Hell—and Hurricanes—Hath No Fury Like a Woman… Overhead, the wild huntsman of the storm passed in one blare of mingled noises; screaming wind, straining timber, lashing rope’s end, pounding block and bursting sea contributed; and I could have thought there was another, a more piercing, a more human note, that dominated all, like the wailing […]

‘The Bell Ringer’

About the importance of seeing a path to follow... and knowing that obstacles can be overcome.

With thanks to Dan Caldwell; something we talked about inspired this story. He slowed the rocker when he heard the steps come out onto the wooden-floored porch. His eyesight was failing, but hearing was still sharp as ever. Those boards—how they sounded when trod on—told him it was his great-grandchildren. “Alice… and Jimmy, you came to […]

SCROLLCIALMEDIA

Nonfiction Commentary Formed as Fiction

The man sat on the patio chair and watched Petunia play with her string of beads large and small. She’d grab them and run across the yard, look back at him to make sure he was watching, then take off again… a pale pink streak with them streaming behind her like an optimistic kite tail […]

‘There Was Something About Her’

Scene Excerpt

A little warm-up writing (draft) from this morning’s coffee… (spurred by this image and a ‘mock’ cover I created that could one day be a real story). Spring had died, drowned by the climbing mercury in the giant thermometer on the brick wall of Tilson’s bar she could see by day in rising and fading […]