A sealed memory

Lillian nearly completed her circuit around the tiny shop when a shiny moka pot with a discount sticker caught her eye. Oddly, it reminded her of a similar, hazy construct from her dream the night before. At least… maybe it had been a dream? The image in her mind's eye felt mysteriously important, like the… Continue reading A sealed memory

A burst of defiance

Photo credit: Soap&Skin Sighing, Conley descended the exotic staircase to verify the prodigious piano instructor's frantic account. Lucille made her apathy towards the drudgery of her lessons known at every opportunity… and wasn't above climbing atop her instrument in a burst of defiance. This piece of flash fiction was written in response to: The Sunday… Continue reading A burst of defiance

Unsealed by candlelight

Professor Roonwardl was kind and boyishly handsome but much too loquacious for his own good, smirked Elspeth to herself. Having gotten the answer she'd wanted, the young wizard separated herself from the flock of girls surrounding their new instructor and hurried toward the library. According to Roonwardl's description, the Book of Two was, as she'd… Continue reading Unsealed by candlelight

Un ange hypnotique

"Oui, I know it's a documentary, Mathéo, but why does the dialogue have to be so stodgy? Everything about this script c'est tout simplement horrible... and pour l'amour de Dieu - these visuals are a blur! C'est atroce! "Joëlle, vite! Mon Dieu! Go tell that cameraman to get a take of Mr. Pradeau without those… Continue reading Un ange hypnotique

The cloudy ripples

Smiling toothlessly, the ancient guru stared at Govindaram. "Preposterous, boy? Preposterous?" Standing in the master's hut under his low, wooden roof, the lad felt dubious. He watched the ancient's left hand plop an ivory needle into the bowl and let it sink. Finally, curious, he peered into the vessel. Startled, Govindaram stared at the moon… Continue reading The cloudy ripples

Getting my prose on… (kinda, sorta)

I was going to write a blog post about my six-year-old daughter's fear of death; and then I wrote a poem about it [instead]. That's not to say that I've entirely abandoned the idea, as there's a lot for me to say on the matter, but... it's been hard for me to make progress on… Continue reading Getting my prose on… (kinda, sorta)