I’m not sure what is real and what is fiction. Still working on the novel, and just wrote part of a chapter that has completely undone me. I wrote, as I do almost every morning, in the corner of the coffee shop with headphones in. Most days, I don’t have much direction in what I am about to write. I just write and try to learn my characters – try to let them live out a story that is somewhere deep within. Within me, within them. Well today something happened that I wasn’t expecting. It was absolutely awful. [read more]

The small wooden bench, a rickety green with peeling paint, was flexible with ten years or more of age. In a small meadow with grassy carpet, it sat like private bleachers to the gravel trail that zigged and zagged around the lake just several yards from the water. Shading the bench was a large oak tree with chin lifted high and arms outstretched. The bench and tree were the closest of friends. [read more]

Voices in my head . . . in my heart . . . welcoming me.

Selah.

The day is smooth.
The mind is smooth.
This thought is smooth.

flowing                                 calm and serene

A glowing amethyst rolled smooth by a babbling brook, the soul is a treasure and my heart is in gentle motion like that of an ocean bound vessel. Waves lapping along the hull of a curious ship of brazen experience set in motion by a quelling calmness.

Here I am. Sitting atop a vast expanse of beautiful ideas and inspiration, yet possessing not the ability to delve into all that it promises.

It was early Saturday morning and the orange sun was still lingering behind the houses across the street, throwing light high and arching into the neighborhood, waking birds and trees alike. The greening landscape was sequined with tiny dollops of water glimmering in the rising promise of a new day. As if God himself licked the earth to tongue away the dirt and grime from yesterday. Corpulent clouds, painted by the sun from beneath, wandered across the sky. It was a beautiful morning and Epiphany’s knees bounced with anticipation as she ate a hot bowl of oatmeal while sitting next to Meron. [read more]

He slouched, both knees on the floor folded, before her with his shoulders to the basement. He unknowingly thumbed his palm in his lap with his head buried deep to his chest, which was covered in sweat. His eyes swelled with panic, and his breathing was rhythmically controlled. He was naked and he was undone to his end. [read more]