Tonight, me, Rouxgaroux, and Felix were back-up for all the things that go bump in the night. Our unit was volunteered for extra duty. A really stuck-up way to say we were babysitting the local police forces during Samhain celebrations. We had it coming. Continue reading “Border Patrol, M.E.L.”
1&2, 3, 4, 5,
A soft sob escaped Peter. Defeated, he shook and crumbled, barely able to lift his head. The nurse sat silently watching him, tears streaming down her face. He looked so vulnerable, so tired, so helpless… I reached over the table to touch his shoulder. I wanted him to stop hurting.
My fingertips hovered over his collar, barely brushing his clothes. I felt the warmth of his skin… I felt – something missing. It didn’t add up. There was no rush of galloping pulse around his neck and shoulder muscles. He wasn’t upset…
Son of a-!
Continue reading “Black Door”
Part 1/ Part 2
‘Leaf in the current, gravitate. Ignorant, until meaning finds you.’
The ocean around me moved, like a summer breeze. The strangest thoughts surfaced. Deep-sea creatures floated towards me. With their long sharp teeth, spikes for ribs and stone cold scales, they brushed my feet. I knew they would. My toes expected the chilly touch. Maybe that’s why I didn’t jump.
Fins broke the surface.
Continue reading “The Weight Curse”
- triggerwarning - grief, alcohol
I plunked down into the leather couch and tugged the patchwork quilt over my legs. Maria, my ex-wife, made it during the five long years of our marriage. She made it for Amy, our little daughter.
I petted the fabric, fingers tracing the sewed areas, for the hundredths time, maybe for the hundred-thousandths time by now…
It had been vibrant and colorful, with the reds and blues and yellows thoughtfully arranged on twenty to thirty-five inches. Baby animals playing under the stars and the moon. Pink hearts lined beneath those little paws. My fingertips knew all the stitches.
Continue reading “The Stain”
The emptiness in Jack’s chest is drilling ache. The skin feels numb and knotted under his sweaty shirt. His fingertips trace the long pink scar on his breastbone.
There is no reason to rush things.
The surgeons have saved his life. He wonders if it has been worth it. They take away that weak heart. Jack imagines how they pry him open, strip him bare of that sick metronome of his past. They steal all of who he was and hoped to be. Jack’s a new man, with new life force in his groins, a new heart to match and no memories to regret. There are no memories at all. The doctors call it amnesia. Jack calls it a blank slate.
Continue reading “Heartless Jack”
It’s a book of tradition, a tale of sorrow,
like the snake on the mighty apple tree,
like a river of time, cutting through
generations of living flesh and mind.
Continue reading “By the Book”
inspired by “Jagged” by Jacob Ibrag
This common language of pain we both speak
you, and all random folk calling me – freak
This liquid misery, metallic and salty in taste
Look into a mirror- that’s sad crystalized to space Continue reading “Familiar Edges”