Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Storytelling
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Lionel once lived in view of cedars and the sea. These days, he stares at broken tractor parts and rusty dog food tins. Lionel trains himself to see the deep blue in the mosquito infested wells of treadless tires. Oxidation looks close enough to gold. Through lenses not so rosy, Lionel tracks elusive beauty nesting…
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Today I honored ritual because my feet barely touch the earth. I'd have floated off, never to be found, a long time ago if I didn't have habits to serve as an anchor. First on the list was typing. An early riser am I, running to the writing room to record fogged over dreams. The…
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Standing in the midst of magic. White buds and pink fog are a delicious mix on which the wise ones feed. To learn the difference between craft and trickery is why we gather in this field. Breathe in the innocence of pear blossoms. Venture into the timeless mist that captures the essence of everything it…
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An unblemished stretch of blue-tinged white waits to absorb my frailties and fantasies. I flick the tiniest drop of inspiration onto the taut surface, and a landscape materializes from out of the patient nothingness. I make the biggest mess I can. Disjointed borders and gradation of color will give shape to the madness until it…
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Flowers were dear, and the household budget tight as a drumhead. Ada believed if one were to spend money on bringing the outdoors in, petals had to be a particular shade of raspberries in cream. Anything else would be a waste of money. Not blushing baby's cheek. Not, heaven forbid, lilac. Ada's exacting requirements of…
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Annabelle and Charlotte let drop many vital threads which led to their true identity. For all outward appearances, they were identical. For those who kept watch over disturbances in quiet country villages, they personified the end of time. The folly of either girl could extinguish the light of every star in the sky. Only half…
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Go away, manufactured memory. I am in no mood to continue putting my faith in you. To my doom you will lead me if I don't bag up your confounding recollections and toss them on the heap with the rest of life's detritus (hair dye and pencil lead and toenail clippings and muskmelon rind.) The…
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Couriers emerge from the mist, fully informed of our situation and demanding our immediate attention. They know we've been chasing bad information, so Couriers come bearing roses along with stiff warnings to soften the blow. The time for shame has long since passed. A Courier is hard to miss, but rarely seen, and is in…
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"Are you snooping through Sophie's diary again? You ought to be ashamed of yourself. No wonder she doesn't say more than two words to you anymore." "Yeah, well I get now why she doesn't have anything to say to me, or anyone else made of blood and muscle. Listen to this rubbish…" "I will not.…
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The lady of the hothouse has the last word. Yes. She nourishes travelers with assent; affirmation. She catalogues the teeming masses growing outside her door. Haves transition into Have Nots as days accumulate inside a vault. Some years are in the black, some years are in the red. Positive, negative, symmetry, mystery. Vanity is the…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 