“There’s an entire world already inside each person, much less a neighborhood. Each will remain colorless and flat, however, unless fleshed out by stories.”
-Linh Dinh-
Creature Of Freedom
Sometimes I look up at the twirling blades. The blades of the wind creator on the ceiling. I will turn it off and watch as the speed goes down to a slow dance. Moving in a perfect rhythm, like the melodic beat of a heart. I will be laying in the layers of blue in…
Always And Forever
She seemed to always remember. Always remember the way the sun reflected in his eyes. Flecks of gold dazzling through and through. Golden perfection that matched his dark, wild hair. Gorgeous and magnetizing, she thought to herself. “What?” he asks, noticing her gaze. “Nothing,” she shakes her head, smiling. He smiles as well and looks…
Miss Midnight
Oh, Miss Midnight. The splendid marvels in the sky are such a rarity to me. An exhibition of heavenly curiosity. Imagination set up in the grace of allurement. Stunning display of wonder. A sensation of passion spreading through the gleam of your eyes. I write best late at night. When no one is around, and…
The Stigma (Chapter 1)
“Keegan Jones! Belongs to the Stigma!” The announcer yells this out as if there should be applause to follow. As if the crowd should be proud. His rough, withered hand grabs my wrist and lifts it into the air. As if I should be proud. I wasn’t proud though. I didn’t feel any sort of…
Nocturnal Fairy
The lights that flicker and the one’s that just turn on by themselves, aren’t done with the perceptions that the unexceptional human being would instantaneously evoke themselves with. The lights did not behave that way because of an electric malfunction, a storm, a rat…and come now…the light is not haunted. That would simply be nonsense.…
Canyon of Lost Love
There once was a girl. She was one of beauty. Gorgeous, golden locks of hair that reached her waist. Eyes that were a sapphire blue, as blue as the bluest oceans. She had straight, graceful movements that kept her tall and proud, whether she was in a rush or in relaxation. Every boy that laid…
Monsters Are Not Real
It’s only half-way through that I can’t stand the consuming, dark gloom of the room any longer. I stand, my movements clumsy from my quivering legs. With shaky steps, I make my way out of the room. The grief and misery was too overpowering, and I wanted to be subdued to the soothing, isolation of…
The Unsigned Writer 