Flash Fiction: Stress Electric

The reporter was more than a little surprised to see the outfit the man was wearing when he opened the door.

It had a lot of wires.

“Hello, hello,” he said. “Please come in.” Continue reading

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I Love Card Games

Lesser known fact about me: I adore card games. From Cards Against Humanity to Magic: The Gathering, I love using little cardboard rectangles (often worth a lot of money) to win in contests of skill and wit.

And luck.

Obviously. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Crunch

When they had brought Charlie in, when they had told him they were going to get the information out of him, one way or the other, he had no idea that this was the method they were going to use.

His superiors had trained him to not squeal any information even if they were attacking him in the genitalia. But, this, he had never expected something like this. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Sky Tear

Mackenzie had her hood pulled down and her eyes stayed hard on the sidewalk. She ran, but cautiously. Avoiding bumping into anyone. She did not want to risk falling over.

Shadows warped and elongated. It was getting dark fast. This was going to hit right now.

She glanced up, but not too far, and spied a bakery. The patrons of the restaurant were peering past her and would for a very long time. She shoulder-checked open the door, even though it was not locked, and ran for the bathroom. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: The Most Frantic Of Deadlines

What sleep had he got so far? Is it important? So much to do. Is it important at the end of the day how tired a person is?

Faced with it again, and again—and time was warping around him as he did what he could with the time he had and the chemicals that made it all possible to pound more and more words out in the frantic way of the life that he wanted. Continue reading

Burning Your Candle

I used to be able to push myself to five in the morning, every single day. I did this for months, always hating it, always wishing I did not have to be up that late. But, behold, that was what always happened.

Fucking inescapable.

It’s still happening, and it is my own fault. I’ve probably (but I’m not sure) mentioned this before on the blog, but I subscribe to a thing I call “The Dailies.” They are activities that I must accomplish, no matter how sleepy I am, no matter what, within a cycle of me being awake. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Star Walk

They walked on the roads, because past midnight, in that sleepy town, no one, not the cops, not the neighbors, would be out and about. Sure, the occasional screen, the occasional person driving along would be there, but, for the most part, the town may as well not have been in existence.

“Is it pretentious if I say—?”

“Yes.”

Howard laughed. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“If you have to ask,” Charlie said, “then it is pretentious.” Continue reading

Lean Into It

I gave up a while ago in the best way possible. I gave up on trying to be something I am not, in a lot of ways. This is a random example, but, for a long time, people always told me to change my hairstyle (and before you imagine it as some funky mohawk or something, it’s just that I have a very generic haircut), and, well, I know myself: I don’t do well with maintaining complex hairstyles. I have on two occasions attempted to wear some expensive haircut and then let it fall apart in days—because applying copious amounts of jell and parting it “just so” is not something I care about. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Do You Ever Wonder?

On the stage, decked in small ribbons and garish clothing, stood two men, and they both strummed their guitars with passion and grace. One of them was short and fat, the other tall and thin. A generic pair, to be sure, but one that had played for a very long time, in a lot of places.

The day’s patrons did not seem to like the show, however, as they paid little mind to them, walking along, talking amongst themselves—even as a true master, two in fact, went to work.

Well, most did not like it. Though it would never see publication or media attention, the Royal Child was in enraptured attendance. He was toward the back, pretending to be interested in the fruits his handler would offer to him, but only eating them out of habit. Continue reading

News: Busy As Shit

Hey guys.

So, as you know, I sometimes need to miss an article in the schedule. I don’t do it often, and it’s always for a good reason (I promise), but, this is one of those times. If all goes well, I will soon be able to pump out content the likes of which I can barely think with. But, in the meantime, bear with me as I finish a few things and settle into my new life schedule.

I think I’ll still have a Flash Fiction for Saturday, but I’m not yet sure. I might have to just pull out a new poem for it. We’ll see.

In the meantime, have a great Wednesday, y’all.   Continue reading

Tear It All Down–Why I Wrote The Book I Did

Sometimes I write articles to answer questions in a place I can always point to later. And, lately, a question I’ve gotten a few times is “what made you write this book?” So, here’s the answer: to tear down an old cliché.

I make no bones about this, I am tired of stories with “being the chosen one” as the reason for a protagonist to be a protagonist. Characters that are talented, characters that are part of an elite group: that’s fine. Stories about average joes are not the only type of tale, and it would be boring if they were. But, specifically, what ground my gears when I began writing Just Another Chosen One were those tales of heroes who would always win in the end.

“Destined” to save the world.

Where’re the real stakes there? Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Life, Huh?

“Millennial, huh? I hate that word.”

“I’m just using the term as shorthand.”

“I get that, but, they’re just people. You know? I hate those terms. Baby boomers. Latchkey kids. All of that. I don’t even know what they call the newest one.”

“The iGeneration.”

“Disgusting.”

George stared down his drink and picked it up, only to put it away again. Half-sipped, and mostly unwanted, but drunk all the same. Drunk the drink, and soon enough drunk in the general sense. Continue reading

The Turtle In The Road

What is with me and during my walks finding random animals? I cannot count how many times I’ve run into stray dogs, wild cats, bunnies, possums, and raccoons. Then there was that time with the baby bird…

But, never has it taught me a lesson before. One that is still forming in my head.  Because, today, while walking, I spotted a turtle, shelled up in the road. A big one. Like, I am not talking something you’d see in a zoo as a novelty, but the thing was easily the same size as a small child, pre-toddler age. And, fortunately for me and the turtle, there were no cars nearby, coming or going. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: What Wakes Is Not You

“That’s the problem, you see,” someone said, and Joseph rose with a start. He glanced around, and it was nothing behind his eyes.

And then, there was.

His lips smacked; eyes appeared glassy and out of focus. He scratched his head and pushed the blanket off himself. In the back of his mind, moving faster than any computer could calculate, images slotted in and linked and sparked with ignited connection.

“I’m… yeah…Joseph” he mumbled and went to the bathroom. Continue reading