Anahi and Erardo descended the ancient steps, the tiny hairs on their skin taut in the cold damp air. Abuela had used the last of her strength to release her clenched fist, placing the ancient script in Anahi’s hand.
This long-forgotten alcazar held secrets. Its endless passages winding back through time, the souls of its keep drawn to the labyrinth’s fulcrum. She knew Erardo was chasing his heart, but would he follow her across the threshold…
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Egan stood invisible along the edge of the northern tree line, in the absence of manufactured light to blot out connection to the universe. Eyes fixated on the heavens above, the coruscant green-blue waves of the solar wind setting Earth’s magnetic ceiling alight. A dazzling reminder of humanity’s insignificance in the vast cosmos.
Continue readingStill there, a dusty case beneath his vintage Ford bench seat. The hiss and sibilance of old cassette tapes instantly transporting me to the lake… fishing with Grandpa.
“Neigh!” Annie brayed, “Look at Black Nellie over there.”
“Thinks she’s all the neigh strutting her hind quarters like some little philly.” Cinnamon replied.
“I heard she couldn’t hold her road apples at the fair last week.”
“I know, dropped them right there with the kiddies looking on, how embarrassing! N-n-n-neigh!“
“Shhh, shhh, hold your neighs girl, she’s trotting our way!”
“Neigh.” the two ponies greeted Nellie with pinched mouths.
Continue readingWeeks working long hours in the remote oil sands had taken their toll but today the company-sponsored busses rolled into the Saloon of this makeshift northern town.
The jamboree would run non-stop for the next five days, it was time to cut loose. The booze would flow and the comfort girls, drawn to payday money, would be primed and ready for the carousing to begin.
Billy hated himself watching the stranger, her curves rocking in his lap. Back east, his Annie was waiting for his return.
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My attention had shifted to Helena, hijacked by the pheromones (or perfume) wafting on the air currents in the auditorium.
Professor Carmichael was droning on about Lepidoptera and the infinite mutations that made something as simple as a Madagascan Sunset moth possible.
My attentions were more carnal. Although genetics were not top of mind, all that mattered were the variations that made such a beautiful creature possible.
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“What a year!” Emma hadn’t been this happy since her teens.
Yes, she’d raised two wonderful children that she wouldn’t trade for anything. Still, an ache inside, she didn’t belong here. Her spirit longed to escape its cage and soar.
Finding Celine had set her free.
Kneeling in the front pew,
alone, paralyzed.
I want to run.
He’ll return,
in mitre and full vestments.
The crack of the staff,
Rings through the sanctuary.
Ashamed, I will obey.
It didn’t matter if this tinpot dictatorship trampled on the rights of its citizens or those sharing a border. He was the President’s guest, and as such smiled while flippant comments about war crimes and human rights violations flew around the table.
Back home, blame for the Ambassador’s cozy relationship fell squarely on the Prime Minister. Like a good civil servant, he tendered his resignation to conceal the government’s secret support for the regime.
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