My journal of big words and pretty pictures
A low murmur spread out over the crowd filing into the concert hall. An occasional loud voice turned heads and set tongues clucking. As the house lights dimmed, everyone found their seat and dutifully silenced cellphones, except for a few ill-mannered patrons who insisted on taking selfies for Facebook pages. The curtains parted and the … Continue reading And the band played on
The trio moved slowly down the beach, walking the border between the shore and the sea grass. They each had a specimen bag slung across their body collecting scraps of wreckage from their space ship, the Explorer Vessel Caelestis. “Ever feel like someone is watching you?” Lt. Serveen Frayaz said, rubbing her hand down her neck, … Continue reading Someone is watching
A single, yellow dwarf sun rose over the marooned ship and her surviving crew. Mauve skies gave way to pale yellow, then to a subdued, teal blue. Wreckage littered the shore of a lush island, leaving a debris field 40 yards wide and 6 miles long. The Explorer Vessel Caelestis was in orbit around Snion … Continue reading A nice place to visit
It’s a subtle onslaught. There’s no gnashing, nor grinding teeth to rend you to shreds. It happens at a snail’s pace, often feeling so normal, your destruction is indiscernible until you’ve completely disappeared. Instead, you’re flayed alive by a thousand tiny razors ripping and tearing you apart. Each cut stings as your defenses are peeled … Continue reading At a snail’s pace
A young man, no older than 23 or 24, sat crossed-legged on the cold concrete floor of his cell, his back to the door. His hands rested palms up on his knees, his face upturned toward the only window, high on the 12-foot cinder block wall. Judging from the angle of sun rays pouring through … Continue reading Returning to the nest
A small, subdued group of people gathered around the hospital bed watching the still patient. The rhythmic beating his heart was a regular beep synchronized with the whoosh of his respirator. His visitors hoped for the telltale flicker of an eyelid to tell them he was awake. Alan Poole was coming out of a 15-year … Continue reading Waking up
Thin spiral notebook 