with skies of ash and waters of snow
we wonder where does the river go
All articles filed in stories
ad astra | scene, somewhere
The air was thick and close, and the restless wind tossing the treetops did little to relieve it. The earth rumbled with the reverberations of a distant summer blitzkrieg, and every so often a quicksilver vein of fire would race from the darkened clouds to strike the horizon. She leaned out the open window,…
Read Moreintermezzo | scene, somewhere
rain and wind, lightning and thunder, snow and ice, dawn, dusk and moonlight — days dance by and become years before i realize they are gone. small whisper-green leaves drink sunlight greedily and strengthen into a roaring chorus in the treetops, only to weaken, drooping in a final defiant blaze of color before they drop,…
Read Moresticks
hello. … hello. i see you have a stick. … so? i also have one. … and? it is cold. … a little. we could rub our sticks together. … why? to make fire. … for what cause? to warm our skins. … and when the sticks are burned? we shall be warm. we shall…
Read Moreshort story
he took the path of least resistance; she took the path of most amusement. consequently, they never met.
Read Morefragment | v
“hello, trouble.” “we’re using nicknames now? very well. hello, goner.” “why goner?” “why trouble?” “i asked first.” “fine. because you are.” “in what way?” “oh, come on. don’t tell me you’re going to play oblivious now.” “i’m not playing anything. i’m not even pretending to know what you’re talking about. i just asked you a…
Read Morefragment | iv
“you know, you don’t have to keep doing this.” “doing what?” “explaining.” “explaining?” “explaining situations. reassuring people. what do you think they’ll think?” “who said i thought they think anything?” “you did.” “no i didn’t. when?” “only for the past twenty minutes.” “what?” “every time it even remotely could come up as a question you…
Read Morefragment | iii
“… it was one of those moments when your heart gives a wrench and you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe, and all you can manage to say is … ‘oh.’” “and?” “and … what?” “and what is the point?” “what do you mean, ‘what is the point’?” “what sort of reaction were you hoping…
Read Moretruth’s stranger than fiction … if you word it correctly
once upon a time, there was a girl who was very sleepy and liked coffee and books and ruins of castles or abbeys or things like that, and music. that was a lot of things to like, but she managed to find time for them all. anyhow, once upon a sleepy monday, she was even more…
Read Morefractured fairy tale
she had the sort of disposition rumored to turn princes into frogs, and a face to match. soured, they called her, or shrunken — like a rosebud caught in the cold and frost-burned before it had a chance to bloom. unlovely was she, and unloving. grasping, shunning, temperamental, self-absorbed — the complete antithesis of what a…
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