He had his hand against his cheek, and his eyes looked tired—even with the candlelight in them.
“So,” she began, and he held up his hand.
He had this odd, multi-band ring.
“No, none of that. Be more open, would you?” Continue reading
He sat, dead-eyed, with his hand on his chin. “I know.”
And, with those two words, she sputtered. “How…?”
He smiled at her and leaned back in his chair. She could not say for sure, but something seemed to move behind him—something huge.
“I know things, not to worry,” he replied.
“I’m worried,” she said. “This is a secret. I can’t have it getting out.” Continue reading
I promise I don’t mean this as a brag—that’s not my intention. It’s a simple symptom, byproduct, a side effect of something that a lot of writers strive to do—and, if you embark on your writing journey a certain way, you’re going to hit this too, and you should be aware of the potentiality of it. Continue reading
I reached over 300 followers on WordPress, and it’s Thanksgiving tomorrow, so why not combine the two into one post? Because, well, one of the things I’m thankful for is that so many people, despite all the changes, despite all the different things I’ve done in my writing, the audience here continues to grow, and I get emails sometimes from people—and it means the world to me.
I do this blog for almost entirely free and yet it feels like so much a part of my life as a writer. I hope that it stays that way. Continue reading
Sunlight hits the buildings,
And looks wrong,
Too early—
The sun slanted against the walls, Continue reading
There may be days when you find yourself annoyed with people. Where it seems like the only option is to stay inside and not face them. I get it. I’ve been there.
But, people, dear reader, people are worth it. I write sometimes for the sake of my future self so that he might see stuff and recall what happened then. What was important and what is still important. This I think I’m writing for the sake of every shy nerdy awkward person who’s ever felt isolated.
I want to tell them that people are worth it.
People are worth it. Continue reading
Sally felt stuck in her own body. She sat at the edge of her bed and stared at her hand. It did not fizzle, pop, slurp, or warp. She focused harder, and the skin turned a nice shade of purple. She smiled at that until it faded back to her normal dark skin.
“God fucking dammit!” she swore and ran her hands through her hair. A deep anger jutted through her body. She was on the verge of tears.
“Whoa,” came a voice from the hallway—and a pink furry creature stood in the doorway. “That’s not an okay word, Sally,” it said, its voice guttural. Continue reading
To those that see a painting in twilight skies.
To those who pour out their heart because they need someone to understand.
To those that push themselves harder—harder—harder, until they find a new way.
To those that don’t sleep, don’t eat, sacrifice their bodies for the sake of something grand.
To those that explain, again and again, rather than fight.
To those that choose others above themselves.
To those that love. Continue reading
“I have not slept in so, so long.” Harold picked up his mug and sipped from it. Waiting for the reaction from his friend. The one he had called over for this exact conversation.
“How long are we talking?” George asked, eyeing him. “This is not like that time in college, is it?”
“No, no, nothing like that. That was weak sauce compared to this. I have not slept in… huh, I think it was twenty days now. It has been a major boon to my work cycle, I tell you that. I have gotten all the projects done I was ever planning on getting done in the last week or so.” Continue reading
As I sit here, I think of them.
“And that is the agony,” Brandon Scott muttered and ran his hands through his hair. His eyes were tired, one more than the other, and his head was just a little off. “Sometimes I wonder what happens to them—and if it’s any different from what will happen to me.” Continue reading
I told you, long ago, how to make monsters.
But, now, specifically, I am going to spend a few moments on how to make anything scary.
Everyone is afraid of something.
And, to elicit fear, you only need to hit them in the right spot. Continue reading
Boxes and furniture sat on the yard. Old and abandoned things of melted cardboard and ruined wood.
Melvin and Clint stood next to each other, one holding a camera, the other wanting nothing more than to run. But Clint knew Melvin was not going to be denied. Dating him had taught Clint that lesson again and again.
“It’s…quieter than I thought it would be,” Clint said.
“No one’s been here in a long time. Duh, it’s quiet,” Melvin said and took a step onto the grass.
Clint flinched. “Don’t—ugh…” Continue reading
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Life, Writing, Reading and Gargoyles...not necessarily in that order
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