Wingbeats drum my thin window The moth is frantic for the feeble light Powder prints on the glass shown out as mica glitter And i am reminded of bird hits and premature burials These things, innocent and pure, do not have duplicity. Only nature. My desklamp, a false guide. My window, invisible. These i must... Continue Reading →

In flight

Soul-spoken spirit, unbound, in flight. Pineal eye gets a look. Events celestial. Of a hair's breadth am I, in this filament. Then, a promise warms me like an innocent's blush. And now this mote understands.


In the wrenching spell of nightmare, something cadaverous, phosphorescent on the forest floor. Bleached as if drowned and months missing. Current-carried, caught on some subterranean thing. Tell me it isn't you. Tell me. Oh, my love. My life.

the cane mutiny

As we sat in stuffy waiting, you came by, lady with the cane. Regal in your latter years. And I had a flash dream, unreasoning. You in white apron and slippers, sounding your steps on creaky pine. Your support- a bannister with loose pickets. And you did not rely on it, did you?

The familiar

Lie in it and when you want sleep seek permission through invention of position and if that's too feeble then touch-type the words to Lucy sky diamonds or expert texpert choking smokers ah you got segments now wake up too soon too late carry on with fond regret of its absence

In the beginning

In the bleak black crack of a Singularity, a palindrome world is hid. It had a name that time forgot, but none could mispronounce Doppelgangers dwelt in its brimstone airs. Fleshed out from learned lives in Otherlight, their honour is the keeping of an Obelisk. Placed upon this cinder world, and not made by man... Continue Reading →

By the Sea

I walked with Clarice today. She wore a skirt with accordion pleats, A pink angora sweater, and real pearls. Her black shoes had round toes and straps. Like a doll’s. Her hair in Shirley Temple ringlets. They bounced when she skipped, and she did, twice. We didn’t hold hands. I wasn't sure if she would... Continue Reading →

Too little, too late?

It doesn't matter now. What you say. What you do. If you cry, gnash teeth, rend clothing, wear ashes. There are no more new leaves to be turned over. A change of heart grows of its own, and not quickly. See, only a few will have seats in the parliament of planets.

personal note

Within A Forest Dark

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA photog_at 20130821-SU 1954 flickr

Thank you for reading my blog. Since its inception in August 2013, I have published over one hundred forty fiction pieces. Thank you for reading the month of October as I throw down with fellow flash writers for a micro challenge: One prompt based micro a day. I have tried to get into the spirit of Halloween with the theme and tone of each.

Next month is Nancy Stohlman’s annual FlashNano event in which flash fiction writers write one prompt based story per day for the month of November. Though I don’t always finish a full month of stories, I am happy to come up with some new material as well as participate with fellow writers.

When I started the blog in 2013 I was in the midst of treatment for her2 positive breast cancer as well as thyroid cancer. I am still in that fight…

View original post 417 more words

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑