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Let me say these words now
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Why not just self-publish on Fictionaut and be read by thousands of my peers? Why not release my cherished work directly to my thousands of Facebook or Twitter or blog friends? Can the budding writer that I am realistically expect a larger audience?
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The outside world will intrude . . .
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What
I learned/one summer/in the North East/Thessaloniki heat was. . . .
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Those in the house don’t notice the sweaty woman on their lawn any more than they notice the Ruger LCP pistol she holds limply in her right hand.
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I am experience and information//
at a small but irredeemable remove.
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was entering into a new phase of its existence, a peculiar paradigm of the wider world where, presaged by science, economic and political ideologies were conspiring to displace the old verities of religion and aesthetics, but where…
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After our first kiss,
a team of scientists
scrubbed away the cancer
of your lipstick.
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The shadows hang fast on the downs this day: And I hang like the darkness, over heath and down; Since the air there is clearer than the clouds, men say, And I'm lost in the country, I shall turn to town. If the heather is restless, then the fete is …
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It’s quite simple - don’t move.
No fake or feint - just stand your ground.
The fixed gaze, the thousand yard stare, hold your place.
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I noticed his pistol before his pissbag and I knew then that failure not only had a face but a balding head, too
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the sour waft of a secret
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At 19 words, the whole piece is a snippet.
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Godzilla, Mothra, Kong, Rodan.
Most people know these Giant Monsters through the movies. What the majority of the population doesn't understand is, that these are monsters are real. Like the myths of ancient times, these movies are just a way that our
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She never leaves her desk, but food appears like magic.
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She woke before the sun was up to brew a pot of coffee. His eyes blinked open as he lay in bed smiling, smelling the fresh coffee mixed with marijuana smoke. He walked to the living room and sat next to her on the couch. He rested his head against her shoulder.…
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Could even drift off to
New Orleans for a slow sip
of a hurricane
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Then I am in Washington DC impersonating an accountant.
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There are times when she is heavy and times when she is light.
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Chewing on peppered peanuts, thin flakes scattered carelessly around his squat, Father unfurls his turban and mops his clammy pate with an open palm.
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Violet goes with her mother to the home, delivering cookies to old folks. She's getting to hate how she goes along with everything her mother asks. Some of her friends are rebelling already, and Violet feels something under her skin. It's still just a dark shape, lurking…
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I dreamt, said the Donkey, of an apricot. An apricot the size of a heart. …
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I nearly burst out laughing when I heard myself telling him in my accented English that she’d confided in me that she was preparing to sacrifice herself as part of an elaborate snuff film produced by a band of psychotic artists hell-bent on making up for
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So young. So innocent. How do you tell a little one that her mother is dying? The father seemed to be bathing in a sea of hopelessness lately.
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You're sitting in a darkened theatre with Gothic ceilings and one exit watching the latest Alan Ladd film with William Bendix and Veronica Lake.
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A door slams. The vibrations rattle through the floor, up his legs and into his chest. He can hear the yells, and the tears that mar her voice. Rat-ta-tatRat-ta-tat A door slams. Eyes closed while images of a life he will never live flicker on…
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Tell people of substance the truth.
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