My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Quentin pounded the steering wheel, rocking his car with the intensity of his anger. Abigail was gone, and he needed to find out what happened to her. His phone chirped, notifying him of an incoming text from Kathy. “Cop n ur office. Stall? Ditch?” He didn’t want to talk to the police, but knew if … Continue reading Proceed with caution
Riding high upon crashing tempest waves Cresting swells, rolling deep in fathomless seas Whipping, tearing sails, splintering bow to stern Lashed to the mizzen, screaming above the roar Wind’s challenge yielded, an iron gauntlet thrown Raging at the maelstrom, spurning fear and dread Darkness casts its net, smothering all hope End is near, the … Continue reading Land locked
The story so far… Her voice sounded far away, tinny and surreal. Barlowe tried processing what she was saying, but his brain kept telling him this woman was batshit crazy. Pushing away from his desk, he locked the office door then sat beside Abigail, turning her chair so she was facing him. “Tell me everything.” … Continue reading Dead again
The story so far... Det. Jack Barlowe closed the email from the Galway Gardaí when his desk officer knocked on his office door. He waved the young man into the room. “Detective, you’ve got a visitor,” he said. Leaning on the door jamb, he whispered, “she’s hot.” “Thank you for coming downtown, Ms. Dolan.” Barlowe … Continue reading Beyond imagination
The story so far... A sharp shaft of light cut through the darkness, aiming its laser focus at Abigail’s left eye. Turning away from the morning sun, she groaned and pulled a pillow over her eyes. If only the pain in her head was from a heavy night of drinking, a little hair of the … Continue reading Here comes trouble
You’re not some dewy-eyed ingenue, naive and unsophisticated. You take center stage, chewing the scenery with your saccharine schoolgirl routine. Your tarnished reputation can’t be camouflaged by pretty-in-pink eye flutters, and coquettish smiles. The “poor me” act, punctuated by grand gestures and proclamations, grows stale. Without an original thought in your vacuous head, you never … Continue reading Mean girls
Thin spiral notebook 