84th Draft Dredged Up From The Brink: An Old South Dog

I widdle away at them, empty post here with a great big long title, quite a few with no title and no content, out with the lot of ya, and so I came to this one. Well, the Golden bombshell blond has aged and adjusted to city life, she turned 10 this last May, so she’s a senior and thus has calmed down the be-ya-tch … Continue reading 84th Draft Dredged Up From The Brink: An Old South Dog

88 Drafts And Counting: When A Succubus Comes Out To Play

From 2013, written the summer after Tim died and I had moved back home, to Dodge. Dodge as in get outa?  Tis the way ol’Dodgers, such as myself, refer to our beloved village. As for the getting out part, most do, some don’t, others won’t. This has sat in my drafts all this time, it is about a night, a person who shall remain nameless, … Continue reading 88 Drafts And Counting: When A Succubus Comes Out To Play

The Daemon That Danced Naked In The Dell

The sun rose over the tops of the trees, bathing in the cold morning light stood the cabin, on the shores of a Lake. The Cedars that marched their way around the edge, swayed in the gentle breeze, offering a welcome distraction from the nightmare that had crept silently out of bed with her. She blew into the rough stone mug she was clasping in … Continue reading The Daemon That Danced Naked In The Dell

Who’s Hallowed Bones Shine In The Moons Amber Glow?

Call me Tel’Gath. Which is more of a title really, if you must know. But whatever they have called me, or what I choose to call myself is private, as I have never had a name. But, you bags of flesh require labels, I know, so it will suffice. I am called many things though, just so you know. Ahhhh…yes, the point. Would you be … Continue reading Who’s Hallowed Bones Shine In The Moons Amber Glow?

The End Of The Beginning

A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the giant Catalpa Tree above their heads, its branches reaching out protectively. The observer can see the two figures beneath, standing now for almost 5 minutes, silently looking down, reading the names etched into the granite at their feet: Tinie-Kay “TK” Danforth David Grant Jodee Danforth Natalie MacEnchroe Nathan Crow Stanley Hart Jerry Hart “It seems like yesterday, … Continue reading The End Of The Beginning

Two Young Stags

Where Magic Goes To Drink

I do believe in an everyday sort of magic — the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.  Charles de Lint The place was almost empty now. Thunder had been booming for the last hour, with the occasional flash of … Continue reading Where Magic Goes To Drink