Anger. So pure and decided. So dedicated in ruin, yet so clear in purpose. The sun will come up tomorrow after the battle, after the war, and silence will announce the sun rising through the trees. Are we cursed to embrace the anger? Do we have to hate to live? After all the horrible things … Continue reading Life in Pursuit, Anger in Ruin
Ah, all of you Wordsmiths. You may be driven to repeat the likes of Byron, Poe, King, and so many others. English (and US) rules are carefully taught at various levels. Editors live and die by the rules of Grammar, they might say. I have Casual Grammar rules, which can be bent to fit the … Continue reading Casual or Expert Rule Followers?
The New Universal All Worlds Wikipedia Lists a soldier as: 1: Typically a man serving in an army; a member of a coed army; 2: Typically an enlisted man; 3: Typically a man of much military experience. I take exception to Wikipedia in that-- I am not a man, and I am barely of man. … Continue reading Space Soldier, Intro One I Wanna Be a Space Soldier
Those desperate green eyes haunt me, even now. The doctor said she had more time, and I wanted to believe him. So, trusting coward that I was, I decided to leave that horribly bright room for a tiny bit of peace from those beeping monitors and away from her pain. Just a couple of hours … Continue reading Her Desperate Green Eyes
So, we all put things out into the ether, hoping someone will like the post, of course. In my case, I would like to grow as well. Therefore, I look for Constructive Criticsm, versus simple Likes. Example: one could just read something and not respond. But, this is an excellent way to begin discourse to … Continue reading Spam
Can you hear music from heaven? Maybe, when you are still, quiet, and troubled? Big John always wore his shirts with sleeves and necks unbuttoned. Colors were usually gray or blue to black. Sometimes they were solid, sometimes checkered. He really did not care. He was bent at the neck like the world bore down … Continue reading Big John, Crossover Music
Schnick! The pick danced on the rocks again, and a few sparks leaped from the white granite to die quickly in the cold autumn air. Torrance could see Ice crystals left on the pointed tip of the Pick, as the northern wind came whistling through the Aspen trees further up the slope. "Got to get … Continue reading FROSTY VANESSA
(Chapter four, have you read Chapt 1-3?) Tom was smiling again, “I asked her name." "Sheila, Sheila Wilson. I know you, don't I?" Sheila asked. "Oh, you might have seen me around. Listen, I'm hungry. Could I buy you dinner? There is a nice, small cafe, just down the street. I could really use the … Continue reading Chapter Four -The Right Reverend Bill and PoleCat Tom