writing
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Day 2 in a Red Sea Witch bay Dark and stormy nights they said. Maelstroms and typhoons they warn about. Anything and everything that can tear the sails and overload the bilge pump. What they don’t warn you about are the crosses along the shores. The ones far and away from any proper lighthouse. There…
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Marin Goranich wanted to be an artist. The Great Depression saw to a different profession: fish trawling. When a hurricane destroys the cliff face he lives on, Marin encounters a wounded merman. In trying to save the creature’s tail, the would-be artist learns the hard way that he may be a little more fish than…
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Ever taste copper? That cloying metal viscosity that tells you pain will soon follow? Or maybe that charcoal burn taste of ash on your food when you’ve grilled it? I despise that taste. I crave it.
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Well toward midnight, the group came across a shallow hole in the side of a hill that led into a stump of a cave. The group collapsed at the edge of the darkness, neither eager to bury themselves in pitch-blackness nor be left out in the open.
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You wanted to know what happened to make Michael hate you so much? You’re not going to like it, Shaman, Sven whispered maliciously as his host rode the black waves of unconsciousness.
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Nat returned to the Flock’s roost before dawn, having lounged at the side of a creek for what remained of the previous day. Slipping through the fields, he crept to the building Hana was residing in. She had been awake for a little while. He hoped alongside Sven that she was feeling better.
Chapel Orahamm 