Category Archives: prose

I just started writing these at the “pressure” of friends and colleagues because of my antagonistic and observant nature, I’ve learned in trying to put those thoughts down a lot about the world around me and myself. these are entirely fictional tales, though the inspiration is drawn from far and wide and only those who know me know the origins by default not ever by explanation for i would never tell the truth on where they came from…

affirmation: my commute, vol. 1

There’s an unrelenting crowd of bodies making their way along a sidewalk all too narrow for the mass of humanity negotiating it at this time in the morning. The off-white concrete is speckled with ground in gum and the occasional … Continue reading

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fictional prose: gathering clouds

The smell of cheep coffee and overcooked breakfast pastries permeated the air, wafting in the light breeze through the walkway as she traversed it. The acrid smell of nearly burned grinds made her nose upturn as she choked back a … Continue reading

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fictional prose: steps

Autumn in the city has its own aura. The cool air carries the lingering scent of the river through the canyons of buildings. It reminds her of her youth and the damp saltiness coming off the ocean wandering an empty … Continue reading

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fictional prose: White flakes fell

White flakes fell. They slowly covered the grass, the rout iron railings, the concrete steps… They coated the tree limbs, the rooftops, the concrete steps… as she bundled up her jacket, zipped up her hoodie and covered here delicate fingers … Continue reading

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fictional prose: constellations of black dots on concrete

The concrete is speckled with arbitrary black dots, some of which, are sticky. All of which are like constellations against a silty off-white backdrop. Grey film is smeared against pale marble bringing them another shade closer to black. Red bricks … Continue reading

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fictional prose: words

Books, and words as a whole, take one away from where they are but not always where they necessarily where they want to be. That’s the power of well crafted language… it can work to alter reality in mysterious ways… … Continue reading

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fictional prose: fallen pine and darkened pitch

The fading light of the afternoon left the grey skies streaked by soft white notes illuminated by the streetlights. The burgundy blinds pulled aside were tugged on by her arm as she leaned slightly against the sill. Her hair draped … Continue reading

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