-
VSS: Jun. 29, 2022 – Survival
As a child, survival meant becoming small, silent, erasing myself or breaking off pieces. Wanting was dangerous, get rid of it. Noise was dangerous, get rid of it. Presence was dangerous, get rid of it. Until nothing was left to prove I was there.
-
VSS: FEB. 2, 2021 – Danger
I will never be alone. I forever carry my mother’s voice with me. In my head the word ‘danger’ echoes, inescapable. Stairs, danger. Eating, danger. Ice, danger. People, danger. That word, her fear, is her legacy to me.
-
VSS: Oct. 27, 2020 – Organ
What a fascinating organ, the human heart. It can be warm and tender, a wellspring of passion, a font of grace. That same lump of tissue, mistreated and abused, can still survive by becoming hard, cold and impenetrable.
-
A short story about beer
It is a typical summer evening around the house. The cicadas are humming in the trees, the occasional addition of frog song chimes in.
-
Underground
“One. Two. Three.” I counted in the dark.People huddled in the crowded subway tunnel smelling of damp wool coats, black-market cigarettes, coal dust and fear. Momma held my hand squeezing it tight to calm us both. Papa was upside fighting the fires that followed the explosions of Hitler’s rockets. People shifted uncomfortably on the floor…
-
VSS: Sept. 19, 2019 – Cavernous
The hole in my chest is cavernous. It should be impossible for a human body to contain this much emptiness. The echoes created there ripple out between past and present, creating confusion between the then and the now. I survive with one foot nailed in the past.
-
Goodreads – A short note
Hi folks. I realized today that my writing over at Goodreads is not exactly what I would define as ‘readily available.’ So, to prevent myself from needing to look for the link, and waste 15 minutes in the process, I’m parking the link here. https://www.goodreads.com/story/list/98748016 Most of these stories are exceedingly short. Snippets, things that…
-
The Writing Process : Ever Wonder…
Ever wonder how a piece of writing gets from the brain to the finished product?This is one example of how a scene initially tumbles out of my head. A scene from Book 4.
-
Writing : Whistlepig sampler
One of the stories I am working on is called ‘Whistlepig’ … Nana was not pleased to see us coming up the driveway. I saw her first as she stood in the red earth of the field. She wore a pink dress and over top an apron. Beside her on the ground was a cloth.…