My journal of big words and pretty pictures
We sit in comfortable silence, A conversation without words, Conveying more in a language of our own, Passing meanings through A touch, A smile, A laugh, A blush, A nudge, A wink. What is that sigh? That look? Anger? Discontent? Annoyance? What’s wrong? Tell me. Your silent treatment is deafening. I have no words. We never … Continue reading Living in silence
The story so far... The King’s sergeant-of-arms, Calen, half dragging and half carrying Maud, burst through the tent entry, swearing at the sentry to leave them. Maud fell into the pile of cushions, trying to cradle her left arm, her hand wrapped in what looked like a bloody rag. She screamed in pain when she … Continue reading Voices carry
“This is an exceptionally noisome trash pit,” holding a clean bandana over her nose and mouth, Hannah tiptoed through the junkyard, careful to not touch any of the rusting hunks. “I’m fairly certain this is illegal. You know, another arrest and it’ll be jail time for you.” Laughing at her discomfort, I rummaged through the … Continue reading Where the wild things are
“So, we’re not even mentioning the elephant in the room?” Chris, the baby, was the family troublemaker. “I’m more concerned with Nonie right now.” Patrick, the second-born, was the people-pleaser. “Of course you are,” Chris mumbled. “I’m more concerned with why there is a dead body buried under the leaves in the backyard.” Being the … Continue reading Stating the obvious
Lying face down in the field of clover, Pepper swept her hand over the top of the trifolium carpet. Acres of three-leafed ground cover spread out around her. Near the point of panic, she once again lamented that the “luck” gene had skipped a generation in her family - her generation. Local folklore surrounding the prowess … Continue reading Good luck charm
The story so far… “What happens to Payne when we capture Quentin?” Barlowe said. “Once he’s no longer a host, does he become Payne again? Will he remember anything about being a host?” “I don’t know,” Abigail said. “None of Quentin’s hosts have ever survived to ask.” “One did.” Barlowe felt like he was drowning. … Continue reading Deeds speak louder than words
Thin spiral notebook 