Write Drunk, Edit Sober – 9 August 2017

Prompt #1 – We had been traveling for 4 years, 6 months, 3 weeks, and 2 hours with no hope, and then… Life, detected in the distance. Is it a computer glitch? The onboard bitch has been silent for years. Years! […]

Mr. Jones’ Big House

Recently, I drove through a very nice, very expensive neighborhood. The houses here are big. Well over 4000 sq ft on 3 acre or larger plots with lots of pine trees sliced open by wild fields. Stone, stucco, or hand-hewn log construction with massive […]

Write Drunk, Edit Sober – 10 May 2017

Writing Prompt #1: No one could have predicted the impact the empty apartment upstairs would have… It was sad, honestly, but I remember laughter. Albeit, a few years have passed. A little girl with golden blonde hair, running up and […]

Why ask why?

Most times, their words are disconnected, like you’re submerged with this protective helmet of gelatinous goo shielding your brain from the sound. You like to pretend this second skin is much more, shrouding you from everything, not just words, raising […]

Sad for you, Sad for me

He said, “I never have to wonder what you really mean when you say something. It’s written all over you.” I took it as a compliment even though I know he didn’t mean it as such. And even though many […]

Perfect Mate

The task of seeking or becoming the perfect mate is a journey over treacherous terrain with no satisfying conclusion. Regardless, the line to pass onto this road paved with glass shards is long, the waiting list infinite, and the suffering inestimable.

Bagpipes

“Ah, there she is, gentlemen.” Sean walked into the band’s booth and slapped his mates on the back. “Who would that be?” Delvin looked at the only woman browsing the merchandise. “The lass that broke me heart last night.” The […]

The Conspiracy

Picture, if you will, a claymation-like short. First scene A woman pulls a sexy, sequined red dress from her closet, holds it against her body and twirls in front of the mirror. Satisfied, she hangs the dress on the door […]

Passing Fad

I could move mountains for you. I could change the direction of the tide. I could turn day into night, change the dark sky to light… And yet during the height of your fame you could not spare a minute […]