Prompted by Inspiration Monday, which I haven’t participated in for a while. — “Smoke?” He barely acknowledged the white and red pack of smokes that appeared before his eyes. A simple grunt was answer enough. The metallic snick of the lighter drew him from his pensive thoughts long enough to stare at the woman taking …
What am I doing here? The reason I started this blog-thang almost 9 years ago was because I liked putting my thoughts out there and seeing what conversations I could start. It could also be read as me being a glorified attention whore. Mostly, it was a safe way for me to meet and interact …
I keep another site that houses the multitude of stories living in my brain. It’s private so it takes the pressure off me to perform, and I find I am freer in my writing. I wrote this today. This piece isn’t construing anything so please don’t view it as anything other than pure fiction. I …
What does it mean to miss someone? Better to have love and lost Than to never have loved at all? But when the pain is so acute you can’t breathe Could the comfort of “never had” Ease you into a good night’s sleep? Nothing hurts worse than longing But hope is a powerful thing And …
A comment was made, spawning this short story. I didn’t plan on posting because I have a regular short tomorrow, but couldn’t quite help myself. “Bend over.”The words flew from my lips like a shotgun blast, startling me with the force. Just speaking them opened something dormant inside of me. It unfurled, lodging in my …
What do you call a person who makes it a point to know your business? One who comes to your place and rifles through your stuff and then shouts to the masses the dirt that they find? Some would call that a creeper, stalker, or a troll. Know what I call it? A secret admirer. …
A little afternoon poetry prompted by the The Sunday Whirl. — As I traverse sunny streets I think of you Your shadow walks beside me, your memory an apparition The march of time gone by echoes like the tap of my high heels on cobblestone The whistle of an arriving train reminds me that things …
Decided I’d rather wait and see where Whisker Burn ended up before I posted anymore. May this will do in its stead. Mature content. — I was sick and only he could make me better. He came when I needed him, and relieved the tension inside of me. He was a glittering gem, leather and …
I have a few bad habits when it comes to offering up my writing for reader consumption, but the biggest is my need to apologize for it. Maybe I don’t want to offend, or maybe I’m just not sure I’ll be well received, but I have to stop myself from explain why I wrote what …
How much of ourselves do we reveal as writers? I’m honest sometimes. Brutally honest, especially with myself. Maybe cruel is a more accurate portrait of how I treat myself? But ultimately I’m honest even if that honesty hurts. I didn’t start blogging to have a platform for my writing, I started because I wanted to …