Head still down, she looked at the vines that started under the dead leaves lying before her. Following the green of their winding on the trees that lined the path brought her eyes up, climbing their height as the vines did. They were life; growing infinitesimally and breathing as she looked at them. And as her head lifted she saw in the distance an opening through the trees at the crest of the hill she’d labored to climb but was only halfway there.
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 […]
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 […]
Every picture tells a story… He was still young, almost 18, but many—no, most—would say too old to swing like a child. But the motion soothed him; a subconscious sense he could change his perceptions by mere movement. A shifting of view that revealed more of the world… and himself. To see what was before […]
She watched the old man, who had brought her there, as he went about adding more forgettable things to what was already forgotten.
So he worked, he lived and wondered where his life would lead if he only followed a half-way street that seemed to lead nowhere… to see if it didn’t.
Martha Vanderwayne had the gift. The 7th daughter of a 7th daughter once she turned 16 years old, she could foretell the future. At 32, the nightmares awoke her. They showed that her grandson would die, along with his lovely wife… in a foul alley in a city grown so dark and twisted she could not […]
Centuries ago a wastrel, a drunkard known as ‘Stingy Jack,’ wandered between towns and villages in Ireland. Calling none of them ‘home,’ Jack was known throughout the land as a deceiver, manipulator and otherwise dreg of society. On a fateful night, Satan overheard tales of Jack’s evil deeds. Unconvinced any man could or would do […]
Halloween a few years ago, I came across a picture of an abandoned house and it turned into a flashfiction piece I called ‘The House in the Woods.’ Readers liked it so much, wanted more and I decided to expand the story. About that time I also came across another picture and the two together […]
Based on something—a moment—a friend told me that moved her deeply. ‘Love and beauty is always there, in the ways our world reminds us.’ –Dennis … The Morning… Sometimes you awake thinking of the imperfect world of serial irritations, frustrations and for most folks… worries and concerns… you’ll soon deal with. All milling about—in your […]