I've posted three excerpts from this work before: An Excerpt from Letters, or “After Her”; A Second Excerpt from “Letters”; and “Letters,” A Third Excerpt. I've also posted two entries that are related to, but not currently part of, that work: Dinner and An Entry from Birch’s Journal. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?” Birch asked. “I have to … Continue reading “Letters,” Chapter 4
Tag: writing blog
Light
I like light. I like the beauty of it, and the way it brings beauty to other things. There is no day more pleasant to me than a cool day, with a gentle breeze, where the sun shines down unhindered onto green grass, giving it a vividness it would never know by itself. Today, on … Continue reading Light
The Snot Mother
A small, moderately true story, to make up for the lack of a post this morning: As with all people, I am occasionally ill. I feel like I become ill rarely, but that it tends to linger for quite some time. Once, I had a cold which began in my throat as a creeping, thirsting … Continue reading The Snot Mother
Incomplete
Junette felt incomplete, as though there was a large piece missing right out of the center of her that had never filled in as she had formed within her mother’s womb. It was not painful, not like a cut or burn or abrasion, but it was uncomfortable, like when something’s pressing on your chest and … Continue reading Incomplete
Beyond
Three by three by three. Three to link. Three to strengthen. Three to transport. That’s what I remember. That’s what I learned in school. It’s what I talked about with... With me? With Ayra. But I am Ayra. But I am Caél. But I am... Me. Us. Nine names. Which am I? I thought it … Continue reading Beyond
No Word for Goodbye
In a public space, like this café, there was no real privacy. At any moment a person that they didn’t know could view them, sitting there together, sharing their time. If someone made the effort, he could lean over and hear the contents of their conversation. Yet of course nobody did: their conversation wasn’t that … Continue reading No Word for Goodbye
Puzzle Box
He opened his chest to show her his heart. She did not react as he expected. Among the line of people to whom he had revealed this part of himself, none had reacted in a positive manner. He was used to polite grimaces, or blank stares, or even disgust and irritation. Most of his partners … Continue reading Puzzle Box
Booker’s Garden
The collection of pots and planters that Booker keeps on his balcony is not, by some metrics, impressive. There are those who would hesitate even to call it a garden, since it is not planted in the ground, and perhaps even because it takes up such a small place. None of that matters to Booker. … Continue reading Booker’s Garden
Help
I have to help. It’s not just a drive within myself. It’s not something altruistic inside me that sees a person in danger and says, Hey, you really should intervene. I don’t like to listen to that voice. I don’t often hear that voice at all. What I get, instead, is a voice that said, … Continue reading Help
The Mask
His hands are driven by the fervor of obsession. It is the same unrelenting force that drives a drug addict to push the needle into his flesh and a gambler to hemorrhage her funds on the chance that he might, someday, see some benefit. It’s the same toxic pressure that forces an obsessive-compulsive to repeat … Continue reading The Mask
Daydreams 