Three Different Ways:
Dreams, Madness, and Myths

  • The Last Sip

    Having my Friday sip of alcohol (rum, today), I had forgotten this was the dregs of the bottle. I found myself at the last sip sooner than I planned. As I held it in my mouth, contemplating the sudden emptiness of the glass, I am reminded of a friend that passed on earlier this week.…

  • Completing The Gift

    Silly me. To think “completing the gift” would be a simple process of taking ownership. By simple, I mean like taking the car keys from the dealer. “Sign here, and here, and drop of blood here. Congratulations! Here’s your new trinket, fully equipped and ready to go!” Bitch, please. Horatio (as I call it publicly)…

  • Dream Journal: 2012-02-20.01

    Weaver holds the toy of an adult. Is she mature enough to keep it?322 words.

  • Dream Journal: 2012-02-18.01

    Keri is sick so Weaver is supposed to be taking it easy. Define “easy”.423 distracting words.

  • The Hero & The Bow

    A beautiful warm day, with fluffy clouds lazily meandering across the brilliant azure sky. The sky held my attention for a while. I have never seen such a color in the heavens. No smog. No pollution. Only the triumvirate of sun, sky, and cloud. “Have they skies such as these, Woman? You look up as…

  • The Sunflowers Sing To Me

    She sang a song of life and living, of love and loving, of strife and striving, of victory and conquering.

  • Desert Blood & Cold Fits

    This post has been moved to “Desert Blood & Cold Sweats”, because Keri really shouldn’t name posts when she’s going on 4 hours of sleep followed by too damn long a day.

  • Desert Blood & Cold Sweats

    My first awareness is the sharp press of cracked pebbles pushed into my face. I move my arms in vain and random movement and scratch my hands against the rough dirt. Lifting my head free of the dry ground, the pebbles wound me anew as I grimace. The facial movement nudges them free from my…

  • A Lesson on Action

    “What are you doing?” The Child’s voice was full of the echoes of many questions as she stood before the seated Elder. “Why are you just sitting there? Is it nap time for grown ups? Why are you sleeping under the tree? Shouldn’t you be in bed, instead?” Child’s words had started to come faster…

  • Grey and White

    Comfortably sleeping, yet I wasn’t actively dreaming. But I was aware. So I had the physical sensations of being warmly snuggled in bed, accompanied with the surrounding indistinct grey fog of dreamworld nothingness. I felt the presence before I saw it. It was familiar in that I had encountered this before. But I knew it…

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