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Melancholia II
Melancholia is a sickness. Who are you?
Part I Melancholia is a sickness. Who are you? “Not a stable foundation.” The realisation that also this can mean more than one thing. When are you? Solitude and dark both interrupted by a stranger to share the same space. Yet the words still flow. How will they react to the falling of dark? A wager that most won’t accept it. Melancholia is a sickness. Limbo is no where. Limbo is going…
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Just a role
New Drabble up. "Why is he into this?", I wonder, as he holds me, his eyes glazed, a lazy smile on his lips. #WritersCommunity #Drabble
Why is he into this?, I wonder, as he holds me, his eyes glazed, a lazy smile on his lips. I can’t say anything now, while he’s growling into my skin, his hands exploring my backside, dig into my flesh. But it should have been obvious, I think, as he pulls me into the bedroom and I laugh. I don’t want this. I’m just playing a role. I smile, I lay down, I giggle. You drive me crazy, he says.…
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Extraction
The story I concocted for NYC's short story challenge earlier 2020, "Extraction". Conjoined twins in a simulation? Bring it on. #amwritingfiction #writingcommunity #NYC
“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”, Merle yelled at the members of the party behind her, “We need to get out of here, they’re on our trail” as she jumped across a ledge and landed in a deep puddle of mud, spraying brown sludge all over her legs. She could just about make out the quickening of hoofs, the breaking of branches as their pursuers drove their beasts through the wood in an all too short…
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Good eve, my dear writers and poets 🖊️ One of my latest fictions, "He came with Thunder", is now ready to be read at WordPress✨ [3000 words] Enjoy! #amwriting #fiction
Lord of the Drowned
won’t you fall into my waveswith no one left to savei’ll wrap you in the deepest depthin coral-laced, flowing shawls of deathi love you in your tragedyanother Herowaiting for the seato jump and drown herselffor loss of life,for love, despair and wounding strifemy arms are open, gentle, warmmy waters will not do you harmcome to me, beloved soulwill cradle you in glitt’ring shoalsfill your lungs…
New short is out. What is dating like, as a witch in her mid-30s? - "In my Bones"
Understand you
“Many have tried before you”, she smiled, “they have all failed.” He regarded her for a few moments, thinking. If she was truly so set on him giving it up before even trying, she did not know who he was. To be fair, that notion was mutual. She must have been with a number of idiots though. Maybe a different angle would get him somewhere. “Has anyone ever understood you just a little bit?”, he…
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Cabinet of Bones
His fingers trail over my skin, tracing my bones as if he were to outline my skeleton for later purposes. As if in his basement, there you would find a circus of the macabre, with the skulls of former lovers grinning at onlookers from the top of mahogany shelves, skins draped across the walls like uncertain curtains, spines stretched and hardened like hat-stands, and femurs, piled up into heaps…
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