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@ssmatthews
A Magickal Meeting (cont. 3)
Arriving at the home of Raven and Atlas, we were ushered indoors and quickly fitted with a beverage. I usually avoid alcohol, but when I do partake, it does dilute my will and ability to keep my trap shut. And sure enough, after a few sips, I was, in some small way, able to participate. Challenged with finding common ground, however, I did more listening that talking. As it was, we spent an…
A Magickal Meeting (cont. 2)
As evening surrendered, there were few clouds present to obscure the myriad stars splashed and strewn above the Atlantic. As darkness commenced and deepened, lights from offshore gambling ships grew brighter by the minute. Further out, at the horizon, like an illuminated bobber, the moon floated above the dark silhouettes of endlessly rolling waves while spreading an arc of light across the…
A Magickal Meeting (cont.)
Part 2. On the heels of Teagen’s confession, the nature of our relationship and conversations evolved. Discussions of occult topics mixed liberally with our previous philosophic musings were not the norm for our demographic, so we kept these areas of conversation private. However, these talks and Teagen’s tales of her experiences became instrumental in reopening my eyes to a long-abandoned…
Time hurries and slows, pacing itself as the days become years. So here I am, once again at the keyboard riding that lazy river of a mind to somewhere.
Xel Sha
Sometimes time’s passage allows perspective SS Matthews
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Right Brain - Left Brain
Right Brain – Left Brain
Once upon a time in my life I wanted more than anything to be a writer. Disregard that my talent was less than adequate, it was what I wanted. Many books did read in this pursuit and as I wandered amidst the marvelous words of those whom actually could perform this feat, I somewhere became curious as to the workings of my own mind.
Looking back, lets say to the end of the last Age of Ice,…
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On The Rocks
This is where I find her, Where rocks tip truth into sea. Where this mind knows Not to accept what it sees.
Pushing life to the edge of the storm, I come to the ocean a lie. Dreaming may mend an image of self Where ego concedes with a sigh.
Where comes the gale. Amidst thundering waves assailing jetty stones Reality dies so she may arrive Wistfully walking in squalls.
This is when I see her, All…
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Gossamer Whimsy
Once half-full or conversely vacant fearful of change yet admonishing stagnation the glass rests paradoxically empty silent as infinity or the space between these ears where nature in despising a void might seek to refill with understanding more substantial than gossamer wings and whimsy. SSMatthews 4/25/18
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Driftwood
A ceaseless current rolls its course as surface oscillations- archetypes of the human mind, in endless fascination, seek the swifter water where the elemental flows. Barnacles bleached and drying cling to underlying form, all my expectations wash like driftwood to the shore, tossed to beach and dying in the aftermath of storm- One more piece of flotsam set adrift from isle to isle, powers…
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A Season of Wolves (Ch 3, Pt 1) A Mysterious Death
A Season of Wolves (Ch 3, Pt 1) A Mysterious Death
With the last rays of sunset fading from the flowering hillsides of June, as she did many evenings, Jeanne Boulet sat keeping watch over her family’s flock. Like most girls of fourteen years, Jeanne spent her idle hours considering what future the fates might have planned for her and what prospects for marriage might present themselves. On this particular evening however, fanciful imaginings were…
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Remembering David — lagoonaticsite I was still a young man in 1979 when Hurricane David swept his destruction across the Caribbean.
Snake In The Grass — lagoonaticsite Anyone for hidden objects? Can you spot the serpent in the twigs? 3/4’s right and center height, laying atop the thin and spindly light beige brush.
Trout Fishing in Grace — lagoonaticsite In the style of ‘old school’ or classic comedy, my first cast of a lure this morning fetched a medium gray sneaker that someone else had cast aside.
The Lagoonatic April 9 — lagoonaticsite Hail fellow Atlanticans, main-landers and other sorts of flotsam drifting life-streams and flows. I am sorry to have to confess this, as I was hoping to bring you footage of the Dragon 9 launch yesterday eve, but this Toshiba Satellite and I are still getting aquatinted and not quite seeing camera to eye just yet. […] via The Lagoonatic April 9 — lagoonaticsite
Satan Never Sleeps (Prologue)
Satan Never Sleeps (Prologue)
Prologue Ending her shift at the Extended Stay on Bay View, Sylvia Sanchez took the same shortcut home as she did most nights. Though generally safe, Madison Park bordered the bay bridge, a known haven for transients and sometime hideaway for more unsavory types. In an effort to avoid attracting muggers she didn’t normally carry a handbag, keeping instead a can of pepper spray ready in her hand.…
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Tavern on the Edge of Twilight
Tavern on the Edge of Twilight
His face was clean shaven and twirling toward dizziness, Sara found herself caught up in the eyes of a stranger. Though she thought his manner refined, his features resembled those of an untamed and rather predatory creature. Still she could not deny an instinctual attraction that made him appear exotically handsome. The compelling wildness he possessed was so pervasive however, that it radiated…
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Vale of the Fallen Moon (intro)
Vale of the Fallen Moon (intro)
Wearing a blouse of linen dyed blue, paired with black ox-hide trousers and riding boots, the stranger sat astride a tall stallion the color of and autumn sunset. His hair, a shade of pre-midnight, hung straight past his shoulders, framing sharp, pale features and eyes that mirrored the sky. Coming to a halt, his hands came to rest upon the stallion’s back. Slumped slightly forward, the boy could…
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