It's hard to not be grateful for a twilight that is forgiving on tired eyes, w/ its graceful colours rippling soft on lakes & clouds stuffed w/ dreams. "That's a plume moth," Halmeoni says.

13 78

“But the man and woman in that memory were like characters in a movie, both vivid and unreal at the same time.”

1 13

We leave invisible fingerprints in the sky for when our mortal lives come to a close, hoping a pure as new snow turns them into steps while we odyssey up the river where heroes and the saved are one.

5 47

from p. 7 of my
Her gut clenched like a fist as she forced the words out.
“Look, Eddie. You’re sweet.”
His face crumpled in slow motion.

28 7

Some believe these dreams foresee potent hopes for harvest. If true, I'll exuberantly return to our land of abundant waving poppies to view restored voices w/ fingers crossed, head haloed w/ sunflower petal scraps. 3

8 50

My sisters are demons in human dress. Their desks are filled with copper scrawls that slumber party guests feel compelled to read & when they do, they later have nightmares of a mare biting deep into their chests & wake to a griping sensation on their skulls.

4 72

One October night, I sneaked out after bedtime to meet our scarecrow. The front doorknob moaned like trapped spirits in the basement & what crept from its crevices stained my gown like blood. I felt vengeance in that scarecrow's eyes upon 1st sight. 3

5 60

“I am risking everything to show this to you,” said the woman. She looked at Jessica, her face strained. Small beads of sweat glistened on her skin even though it wasn’t hot. “Now shut up and follow me.”

2 11

“Here,” said Havana, thrusting the messenger bag into Jessica’s arms. “Keep this hidden. Read the files, but don’t let anybody find it. Not your boyfriend. Not your girlfriend. Not your friend-with-benefits. Not your mom. Nobody.”

2 18

Then a hail storm greeted us midway. I dared a hand out my window & met constant thorns, from which Tristan crowned me Champion of Wonder. The snow-like sand would be my reward after crystal deluge. 3

6 56

They swayed to the music. His lips brushed her jaw, drifting toward her ear. Val laced her fingers into his hair and thought that even if the world did go to hell, she could survive it as long as she could have this.

5 23

He left without discussion, listening to those who raised him in exchange for full obedience. They held the titles 'mother' & 'father yet never warmed him as families do. His memory lays tangled with benthos.

14 79

Better to take any action – even if it seemed pointless, now she was in the middle of it - than to lose her mind waiting. And there was a chance, however small, that they might get lucky. You couldn’t win the lottery if you didn’t play, right?

7 24

Val had become a Marine pilot because of her grandfather.

“I flew cause I loved it,” he’d told her once. “Cause I wanted to look down and see the world like an old patchwork quilt. But I fought cause that’s what I had to do. I had to serve.”

8 43

"Their entire village was framed shortly after coming out of despair," Hansel says.
"How awful! I heard it was during a hellacious summer w/ nary a cloud in sight as well."
"Awful? It was legendary! The frame was 24k gold."

11 64

Roots were trodden into drying earth and birds forgot their song. We measured how far the deathbed went, speaking to ourselves beyond the vanished lines we'd adopted when the sun lost her bold fire. Then a guitar appeared.

14 85

I allowed your ghost to be the only audience of my ashes falling to wet earth amid faraway trees, soon after buried shallow under radio silent hills. Why are we only released in echoed unrest? We deserve more than caves.

13 65

Bowen poured another glass of bourbon, put the pill on his tongue, and looked across the room at Morgan. The robot stood in her charging station, lights blinking under her translucent skin.

He lifted his glass to her.

“Cheers.”

3 24

His lips brushed her jaw as she reached back with her right hand and laced her fingers into his hair. With her left, she moved his hand to where she wanted him to touch her.

Billie crooned from the stereo. “Mama may have, papa may have . . .”

0 8

“I’m risking everything to show this to you,” said the woman. “My job, maybe my freedom.” Beads of sweat glistened on her skin even though it wasn’t hot. “Maybe my life. Now shut up and follow me.”

4 18