The Back-burner Yawp

The Back-burner Yawp You know, All this magnificent mess before you, Beauty by My Eyes Bloody Well Ache... Remember me? That brilliant bitch that resembles who I was?   It's tough on me too It's hard on ME, too Did you realise, that I'm getting hit from all sides? Forever explaining and justifying Swallowing my … Continue reading The Back-burner Yawp

they said watch the horizon

up and down … up and down … up the swells make my head explode my heart aches in sympathy for my stomach and my ears look for the horizon there is no shore out there only water, and the - burning alive, want water but there is none to be had surrounded by it … Continue reading they said watch the horizon

Vacant Rose

It's easier in the dark. Alone doesn't feel quite so isolating wet cheeks go unnoticed Somehow, the bleakness seems a comfort Not unlike a pair of warm arms. She doesn't know I'm watching Lost in her rain cloud I'm positive that she'd prefer an embrace To the cold silence There she sits Cross-legged, nude, Tragic … Continue reading Vacant Rose

a horrified shadow

If you have never felt hunger a desperation so deep in your gut that it gnaws at your bones and it speaks in vernacular tongues whispering to your pain addled brain in the devil’s voice it denies, tries to convince your starving stomach that it doesn't need that sustenance then you have no right to … Continue reading a horrified shadow

Snarktastically, speaking

Tomorrow is cutting day. Yup! I'm going under the knife! ... Admittedly, I'm a dight nervous about some legalised lunatic armed with nasty ass tools and enough meds to knock Godzilla into the next dimension being anywhere near my nearly perfect physique.  That was snarkasm, by  the way,   There's nothing perfect about this physique and … Continue reading Snarktastically, speaking

The End of Her Rope

It is the last straw, this, the last time. This time his whore came to our home, dressed, or rather undressed, expecting him to be ready for her. In our bed. Not the first time, but certainly the final time. I’ve paid, and dearly for his indiscretions, physically, emotionally, having to swallow my pride and … Continue reading The End of Her Rope

Inside by David Boutin

This story was written by my 10 year old son David as a surprise for me.  I am indeed, surprised and pleased,  I hope you will be too. Melanie "Sometimes a story gets so crowded you can't tell an original story anymore." Scott Cawthon • Part 1 He turned the key in the lock and … Continue reading Inside by David Boutin

Two more days

as Eveline Hood Have you ever wondered what fear tastes like?  Like afraid for your life because this time it might be the end of it kind of fear?  If not, count yourself among the lucky ones.  To me, fear tastes like metal; like I've been sucking on a penny for too many hours.  Coppery. … Continue reading Two more days

The Eyeless Prophet

I swear this is mostly a true story.   I'm in the kitchen and there's a man in the lawn. The same eyeless prophet outside my window that I always see.  He shimmers, shivering, just standing there watching me with a mindless smile. Tonight, every night, and he's everywhere, I swear it, in every place I … Continue reading The Eyeless Prophet

-anthropophagus airborne –

  *an excerpt from Slaughterhouse Stories,  coming in October 2016* Airports.  A concrete pen full of rules and fragrant with the scent of human animals.  It is certainly not the place Abbegael Clermont wants to be.  She was supposed to be on a tropical beach with a drink in her hand, but her employers disagreed, as … Continue reading -anthropophagus airborne –

Final Memory

The blackness of unconsciousness has monsters in it, slithery horrible things that resemble nothing close to peace. Floating in some breathless place, I wasn't and then I was. Like a light flashing on, or a flipped switch. What is a light?What is a switch? Flip the switch, blind the night. The reality is that my … Continue reading Final Memory

Snapshot – Turner’s Folly

Read  S N A P S H O T August 13, 2015 Outside of Kelford 30 miles NE of Skull Creek It’s all Al Kennedy can think about. Three weeks’ vacation to spend seven days of it driving while Angie slept and the kids fussed and fought endlessly in the back seat. Then she would … Continue reading Snapshot – Turner’s Folly