What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly.

Quite a well crafted yarn from N. over at http://www.therebemonstershere.com
My name is Bast, and finally I am dead.
My corpse is at my feet, and what I see on the ground before me appears to be that of a 22 year old woman; a woman 5 feet 2 inches in the old money, and is lying like Jesus on the cross, flat on its back and arms outstretched across the most magnificent 16th century Persian rug.
Burnished wavy auburn, excruciatingly high maintenance, waist length hair cascades around my size 8 shoulders, highlighting those blank and staring emerald green eyes of mine, eyes purpose built for smiling. Windows to the soul apparently, yet those eyes, my eyes, are eyes that have drawn compliment and witnessed the history of my 1700 and something years on earth. And there they are, wide open, taking the focus off the light smattering of nigh invisible freckles cunningly spread across the alabaster skin of my…
View original post 642 more words
Lee Dunn View All
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.
Excellent! Thanks for the reblog of this.
LikeLiked by 1 person