Making Peace With Ghosts

I hear her in my sleep. At least I think it’s her. And I think I’m asleep. I hear her cry, “Why didn’t you want me?” Faint, not real. I roll over, clutch the pillow. My wife stirs. “You hear her?” But I don’t hear my wife, even. Or I’m not sure I do. My…

The Creepiest Thing

Clowns are pretty much automatically creepy. But what about a clown who does lots of very bad things, then paints a portrait of your spouse? Kristen of byebyebeer is the next guest poster of the season with this creepy piece about a creepy thing that is very creepy. Yikes!     The Creepiest Thing from byebyebeer The creepiest thing I…

Carol Decorates for Halloween

  Drops of rain splattered on the headstone. Carol wiped them away with one slow caress. She smiled. This one felt right. “An elegant choice,” said the gaunt man behind her. “And moderately priced.” She could feel him looming over her shoulder. The way he held his hands reminded her of a praying mantis. He…

Her Tangled Web

Kicking off the Halloween-a-thon is this piece from kurasazetu, whose writings you can read at This Black Rock. For those who fancy themselves connoisseurs of diversity, I would invite you to consider America the Great. Her Tangled Web by kurasazetu   Thomas Brinkley sat at the edge of his driveway and tried to keep his…

October is coming, and you’re invited (again!)

Just say it; let it clunk about in the back of your throat: October. It’s the coolest name for a month, and the coolest month by far. The earth itself (the top half, anyway) is literally cooling down, the air getting damp. Spiders are spinning webs, skeleton hands clawing their way through moist earth towards…

Sleep now in the fire

Don’t worry, my dearies. Don’t fret. Sleep well. Sleep with good thoughts of good things to come. You will be well, live well, make money, have a nice home, a nice car, an open kitchen with countertops you enjoy feeling beneath your hands. These things are yours. You will wear yoga pants and athletic tops, sunglasses, a…

I want to take away your guns

The one and only purpose of guns is to kill. The desire to own guns, and the notion that owning them is some inalienable right of Americans, points to a sickness. The symptoms have been made clear. I don’t wish to offend anyone who thinks differently, but I can’t imagine a greater offense than the…

the violence

Originally posted on merkwords:
the violence bleeds hate into the streets. the violence washes the blood away with tears. the violence lingers like a ringing in the ears. the violence furthers the divisions that birthed it. the violence exists, confounds, continues. the violence lives as we all wish peace could live. why must peace be…

Those are people who died, died

The first to die was my father, in the aughts, age 73. Ten years younger than my grandparents, my mother’s parents, not my father’s. It was the cancer, took my father. The cigars and Manhattans hastened it, that was whence the cancer, you’d think. His choice, in the end. In a way. Grandmother passed soon…

One Sentence, Three Tiny Tales

Well now here is something that is very cool: a flash fiction piece of mine was featured on WordPress Discover as part of a feature on WordPress Discover that featured, well… flash fiction. I pause, realizing I am being redundant. It’s okay because I know better and I don’t do it in flash fiction, especially…