Vignette (5) (400)

There's a certain artistry to this mountain's edge. Water hums against the edge of the ground, melting hard earth into clay and loosing pebbles into the harbour's water. As far as the eye can see, it's all greenery and water and finally, just before the eye's limit, a cityscape of towering buildings and a bridge…

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The Call

Flash Fiction July, 22 They say that when you feel the call, you answer it. I've known people to go travelling at a moment's notice, packing up whatever few possessions will fit into a tiny shoulder bag or backpack and quit their jobs informally by not showing up the next day. By the next week…

Incongruous

Flash Fiction July, 9 There's an unusual quality to the air tonight; I'd almost think it feels like a brewing storm, but the evening is cool and clear. It's lacking in the dark clouds that normally foretell thunder and hail and lightning, but there's a definite chill. A rabbit scampers past me as I climb,…

The Faux Landlords’ Act

It's been another six weeks since my last unusual encounter. The books continued streaming in, piled-up around the house in more stacks than I could possibly get through in one lifetime - only to stop as suddenly as they began. This evening, I'm late coming home from work; too many hours spent making very little…

Interlude: Faux Landlords, Studying the Universe

The books began arriving in late May, for no apparent reason. They were always hand-delivered, as far as I could tell - there was nothing to indicate that they had been shipped, and every one of them was wrapped in plastic bags, plastic boxing. Anything, it seemed, to protect them from the elements while they…

The Faux Landlords Come to Dinner

It's been several weeks since I last had a run-in with either Penelope or Andrew, but the last encounter is cause enough to stay on edge. Just the other day there was a postcard in my mailbox, sent from two cities over and with a business card taped to the back of it. Further inspection…

Passenger of a Faux Landlord

I'm driving, testing out my new car. It drives easily, a welcome change from the constant sputtering and coughing of the last one. The steering is smooth and the windows quick to move when controlled. A flash of blue catches my eye, standing out electrically against the overcast gray sky and white building nearby. The…

a rainy night (150)

she ran, heels slipping and clattering over the wet footpath. rain blurred her vision, melding streetlights and car lights into patches she didn't see until it was nearly too late. blisters had formed several streets ago, and she could feel the leather against her skin - now sodden, still stiff. not for the first time,…

at the beginning (400)

it begins with a window. you're brushing over the frame, rag in one hand, polish in the other. i'd ask what you're doing, but i don't quite care to know. besides, it's obvious enough: restoration of a kind, some new creation you fancy taking place. come away from that, i think, and you do. light the…

Poetry 101 Rehab: Lockdown

sometimes, i trace the locks that line the door. they are several and they pretend at security. the air is thin in here, oxygen tastes like dust and the wallpaper droops, shrinks away from the wall. (even it doesn't want to be here) it's a ritual now count the locks at night and double-check them.…