My journal of big words and pretty pictures
“I don’t want any trouble.” He had a lean, hangdog look about him. His overgrown beard hide his face, but his eyes, unexpectedly clear, held an unquenchable fire. Pulling his fists from the pockets of his old, military field jacket, he showed empty hands to the men barring his way. “Just let me go on … Continue reading Hangdog
What has come before... A bead of blood sat precariously on the corner of her mouth. With a slow, deliberate motion Josiephine licked the drop off with the merest tip of her tongue then dabbed at her lip with a callused thumb to make sure she got the last of it. The gathered tormentors dropped … Continue reading To fight another day
From the beginning... “Were these actually used to cook in?” Jodie sat cross-legged on the hearth of the great hall fireplace facing the back of the firebox. She looked up into its black, soot-stained throat. “The logs they burned must have been ginormous,” she mused, her voice echoing in the capacious chamber. Flynn had jumped … Continue reading Bringing down the house
“Do you have the young wench under your control yet?” Flynn smacked the white squirrel’s nose in rapid succession until Cyril yelped in pain and scurried away. “You needn't have done that,” Cyril rubbed his sore snout, glowering at the warrior cat. “I won’t abide any disrespect toward Jodie,’ Flynn returned Cyril’s glare, hissing through … Continue reading What the squirrel knew
“Are all feline familiars black?” Jodie and Flynn curled up together on a tapestry rug in front of the smoldering fireplace like an yin and yang symbol. Of course not,” he purred. “I’m not entirely black.” Flynn swished his tail, gently touching Jodie’s arm with its white tip. “Do different colors mean anything?” She flicked at … Continue reading A sharp dressed man
It wasn’t my dark, bogeyman-filled nighttime closet, nor the monster netherworld beneath my bed, that filled my preadolescent heart with dread. It was the furtive bleurs living under our roof. Every shadow, every flash of movement just outside of my field of vision, could be one of the child-abducting spirits waiting to snatch me from … Continue reading Raising the roof
Thin spiral notebook 