The Reaper

I listen to your heartbeat in the hallways of the churches that we visited as children, before you ran away. I can hear it in the echoes of the choir as they sing their hallelujahs, conjuring and curling the memories of your smile into smoke from the snuffed candles on the pulpit. Your soul on … More The Reaper

Sacred Ground

I can feel the earth moving underneath me, the wind from its rotation sliding its gentle fingers through my hair, the icy metal smell of winter on its gentle hands. Spinning above me swells the white woodsmoke of the mountains, the world around me spinning and my feet still grounded, the trees swaying our eyes … More Sacred Ground

Dreaming Reality

It was the middle of the night when you called me, your voice whispering into the darkness around me from the bright white light of my phone. I didn’t understand why you were whispering, because I live alone, and the phone wasn’t on speaker, and even though it was the middle of the night you … More Dreaming Reality

Six word stories

If you’re unfamiliar with this type of story, Imgur had a great post here that you can check out. Below are some of my own. Many thanks to Rose Craig, my beautiful, wild gypsy friend for urging me to participate with her. Neither mine nor her six word stories appear in the Imgur content above, … More Six word stories

A Comparison of Style, Language and Setting in Gothic Literature: In Horace Walpole’s Castle of Otranto and Edgar Allan Poe’s Short Stories

I wrote a lengthy paper last year during my first semester of graduate coursework with SNHU, which I’ve since left. I keep going back to it – after it was finished and graded, my professor told me that I should submit it to academic publications for peer review.  I have not done this – I … More A Comparison of Style, Language and Setting in Gothic Literature: In Horace Walpole’s Castle of Otranto and Edgar Allan Poe’s Short Stories

Salt Smog

I came home from the desert this week. I spent twelve hours traveling from Phoenix to Montpelier and all I can really focus on is all the dirt. I spent my last day in Arizona hiking the White Tank Mountains and circling Papago park, and sure it was windy and dusty- but it was also … More Salt Smog

Breathe to Shame

Tank that idea. I’ve been sitting here for hours thinking that there’s not much left – there’s really not – but there is something. Something reminiscent of tar-stained bones and frequented dive bars, all coiled up in your voice. Striking. Eyes light up across the parking lot as the first person comes out onto the … More Breathe to Shame

Frankly

Frankly I’m pissed. I know this will bring accusations of selfishness but frankly I’m quite tired of being selfless and it’s time to look out for myself. Frankly I’m tired of poor excuses wrapped up in your cheap liquor And your Friday nights spent at bars And when I ask you for that money You … More Frankly