My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Composing slam poetry while huddled around a burning trash can for warmth on a frigid winter night, a gang of gamins - distinguished by their customary street uniforms of oversized denim jeans slung low on bony hips and Crooks & Castle hoodies, the too long sleeves pushed up passed ashy elbows - stood apart from a … Continue reading A run-on slam
Zular sprawled across the lichen-stained crypt, an occasional piteous moan escaping his demoniac body. “What’s the point?” He wailed. “What are you prattling on about, Zu?” Cassiel stretched out her luminous wings, sunlight reflecting into Zular eyes causing him to squint against the exquisite radiance. “I hate campaign season.” He rolled off the concrete vault, … Continue reading Devil on your shoulder
Crumpled wads of paper littered the floor around her feet. Head in hand, pen poised over a blank page, Briony bit her lip in consternation, trying to pick the right words. She felt like a fraud. There were no tender phrases that would blunt the rejection made real in her letter. It had to be … Continue reading Dear John
I go through the motions without thought. It is all so routine, so mundane. Monday is the kitchen, Tuesday is bathrooms, Wednesday is laundry. There are no highs or lows, days pass without excitement, without emotion. They tell me it will get better, that my grieving is a gift. I am to use it wisely, … Continue reading Daily chores
After the doors closed, I moved slightly to my right, pressing my back against the solid elevator wall. If I had kept my eyes open, the whole of the city would have opened before me as I ascended to the top floor of Jacoby Towers. The car’s three outward facing glass walls offered riders a … Continue reading Glass and chrome
It’s just another nostalgic, teenage craze, Mother. No need for you to worry. I even dabbled a little at her age. If she was jumping off bridges because all her friends were, would you still be so patronizing? She’s in no physical danger, you’re getting hysterical over nothing, Just let it run its course. Next … Continue reading It’s a passing phase
Thin spiral notebook 