• Featured,  Short Stories,  Works

    Death Wish

    The rush of wind forms into words. “If you could know what it is to die, to experience it, to be one with it, would you?” The shadows draw together into the long strands of nimble shape. Cloaked at once, but then reveals the face. Fine lines betray not an age.

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    In The Beginning Was Logos

    Published: Sick Lit Magazine, 7/27/2016. In the beginning was not a primordial mass. In the beginning was knowledge. In the beginning was logos. And in the end, there was nothing. All knowledge is outside time. What if in the beginning, you were logos? What if you knew that if you told anyone you would finally die? Would you even want to live if everyone you met could not retain the knowledge of ever meeting you? This is your life. You are still alive. Different eyes, different skin, different scents, but you are you, and you are logos. Can you live? Do you want to live? Will you tell them the…

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    The Human Quotient

    The human quotient fractures, lost, pitted against itself. Time repeats. The past and the present are the future. The hum of dissecting life reverberates. :: Replay core protocol :: We found new life. We left behind ourselves. Look back. Never forget. :: stop playback ::

  • Short Stories,  Works

    Fly Catcher’s Children

    Arieth glanced each way up the road to check for cars. All clear. Now or never, she told herself. With a deep breath, she inched her way towards the door of the Fly Catcher’s shop, her small frame shivering in her tightly buttoned peacoat, only partly due to the autumn chill. She blew a rogue strand of her curly red hair from her eyes. Why did she forget her hat again? Can’t remember everything. The shop was an unobtrusive place, nestled between a barber shop and an art gallery, having no windows, just a single aged sign, made of brass lettering, faded as if the hand of polish had not…

  • Short Stories,  Works

    Wisteria Needs

    “I’m sorry.” “It’s OK, Ann, I’ll be fine.” “Are you sure?” “Do I have much of a choice?” “Mom, you can’t think like that…Well anyways, I hear Jim coming downstairs, I need to get the kids ready.” “Taking them to the zoo again?” “No, Annie has ballet. It’s strange…but life somehow still goes on.” “It has to dear.” “Call me if you need anything.” “I will.” Liz held the receiver long after her daughter’s voice clicked off as if she yearned to find another sound within the soft static of the empty line. Noticing the absurdity of what she was doing, she quickly hung up the phone. Two weeks since…

  • Short Stories,  Works

    Lights Out

    Fredrick sat on his king size bed in his apartment tucked into the lush countryside of the Hamptons, tapping the front cover of his October issue of playboy magazine. His wife wasn’t home yet. How was he going to get fucked? A quick glance at his red oak nightstand proved it to be eight o’clock already. How long had he been trying to catch some occasional ass on Showtime? Man, the bitch never took this long. He tossed the magazine on the bed, a sharp contrast to the pink flowers arrayed on the down comforter. He hated them.

  • Short Stories,  Works

    Gift of a Soul

    Alfred gingerly squeezed his granddaughter’s shoulder, a hollow assurance, he knew. “The hour is old and yet this wretched siege still bays its horn.” “When is it going to end, Grandpa?” “Soon I think.” “Really?” Elsa perked up with a bright smile, a contrast to the dark hour. “Do not let joy win your heart yet.” “Why?” “We are losing.” “Should we pray, Grandpa?” “It’s past the time for prayer.” “But, isn’t that what you do?”

  • Short Stories,  Works

    Coffee to Soothe the Flame

    Laughter, with hints of youthful vile and ignorance, echoed down her alley, a path brimmed with stench and decay, hacked into a hidden alcove in the Chelsea District. This great New York City, not a comfort, was still her home.  Cassandra lifted her eyes at the hollow sound, her long lashes barely concealed her red-rimmed gaze, not an emotional plight, but a daily toil. Her pulse sped, urging her to flee. The dim light of the gibbous moon caused her to squint as she measured the intent of a band of teenage boys. Their pale blue shadows stretched towards her like ethereal hands, clawing a trail around the refuge of…

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    Angels In Despair

    Noah whispered to the bundle in his arms as a passing breath of wind raked across his skin. “So you’re the last Hope. I’ll do my part. You’ll get to the hospital, but can you bring what you’re called?” “Hey Noah, what were you saying?” Tom went rigged and his eyes deepened in their sockets. “Wait! Do you feel that?” He shoved away from the willow tree he had been leaning on, strode out of the shadow of its hanging branches, licked the back of his hand, and lifted it to the air. “There’s a nasty breeze.” “Do you think it’s the Black Wind? “It has the bite and I’m…

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    Lord of the Dome

    “Little rats, all my little rats.” The Lord of the Dome inhaled the damp rotten air with an impish grin, staring down upon the sniffing masses of his devoted followers. “Yes, yes. Drip goes the water to the tune, no gloom, of my glorious realm.”

  • Featured,  Short Stories,  Works

    The Trees of Evermore

    The forest watched Jared run. He could feel their eyes on him, even if he didn't believe it. He had grown to love these woods, and today he felt a part of them. He moved among them. Under branch, over fallen tree, around bush, and across stream, he ran, more akin to the forest than a passenger under its shadowy gaze.

  • Short Stories,  Works

    The Meaning of Rocks

    The bottle slides from Illya’s delicate fingers, landing amidst wild and lush grass. She pinches the long green stocks with her bare toes. It’s soft, like a never ending fur made of life. The early dew coat her feet with chill. She doesn’t notice. “What’s this?” Illya picks up a rough stone, her youthful hands cupping its dark oval shape. A feeling itches at the back of her senses, tempting her out of reality. The rock gains meaning and changes before her eyes or is it in her eyes. It matters little to her. Even the obvious lie before her does not dissuade. This is what she wants and her…

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