My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Standing at the entrance to the forest, hands clasped, fingers intertwined, they both look straight ahead trying to see through the canopy to the other side. He feels her heat radiating against his arm, and she wills her heart to beat in rhythm with his. Across the threshold lies their freedom, all they need do … Continue reading Into the woods
Standing naked before man, stripped of my uncertainty and fear, declaring openly my devotion to you, only then will I be a righteous believer - when my faith is more precious than my life. NaBloPoMo 8/30
I’m not a fan of literary technology. I prefer my books in their natural state - paper and cardboard. If they are bound in leather or buckram, all the better. I like feeling the weight of the words in my hands, touching the pages with my fingertips, inhaling the words like breathing in air. When … Continue reading Bibliophile
I knew she was going to do it, but still stepped into her round kick to my head. I thought I could block it, instead I hit the mat hard, to be attended to by Disney-esque bluebirds. I didn’t win the match, but I did get up and finish it, even scored a head shot … Continue reading Like a brick
All the experts tell you to put back a couple of months salary as emergency money, you know, just in case. I never expected my “just in case.” Life was good. I wasn’t part of the 1%, but I was comfortable. Debt was under control, I didn’t live beyond my mean. Hell, I still reused … Continue reading Killing frost
Locked inside the paradox that was her mind, she had fewer and fewer rational days. On Monday, she was Mata Hari, Tuesday she was Scheherazade, on Wednesday she would consult with her doctors as Anna Freud. Whoever she was, there was a mystery to solve, a riddle to decipher. No matter that on most days … Continue reading All in her mind
Thin spiral notebook 