Gulls cried raucously above as they journeyed to their nesting place. Below, field mice scurried amongst autumn’s detritus. And perched atop the bare, limestone cliffs between above and below, was she – the embodiment of patience
Cloaked in darkness, I stared out through the window of the crumbling tower. The years had not been kind to this place; nor to me. The weather of time had eaten away at the stone and mortar of my soul, and the tower slowly crumbled in unison.
The docks smelt bad even at the best of times, but as she tottered down the wooden pier on her stupidly high heels, Detective Kitty Salva tried not to pull her face at the foul miasma of rotting fish and blooming algae wafting up from the water below. There were only two ways to smuggle dragons into Yew Nork City, and if they weren’t coming by land, they had to be coming by sea.
Detective Kitty Salva ran a manicured fingernail across her bottom lip as she contemplated the pile of char steaming on the bed in front of her. Some enterprising junior investigator had drawn a white chalk line around the pile, and every few seconds a few fragments of charcoal would trickle down in a black avalanche, blurring the white chalk to grey.
Personal Log: Captain Aloysius Wren 2617.9.26 GSD There’s a saying my great-grand-pappy liked to churn out when things weren’t going his way: Up shit creek without a paddle. It’s a saying I’ve only had to use three times in my life—until today. As figures of speeches go, it’s a pretty damn apt one right now. I’ve nobody to blame but myself. Shouldn’t have tempted fate by taking a shortcut through the Voltire Nebula. Ten… Read More
Weathered stone markers Guide the way to Grandma’s house Silent paws follow Today’s haiku is written for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt! Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to download the photo from Sue’s site (Failed – Path too long… a very fitting error message for my poem?) but you can click the link above to see the picture which inspired this poem. I hope you enjoy the Pixabay featured image instead. After my last Goldilocks-themed… Read More
The small convoy rolled up to the foot of Gunslinger Ridge as the stars winked their way across the darkening sky. A half-dozen cars and trucks were already parked haphazardly among the scrub.
Set against a backdrop of ominously grey sky, Neuschwanstein loomed over the the lonely forest. It presided, dominated, menaced and threatened. The synonyms tumbled through Clara’s mind as she stood staring agape at the eerie, fairytalesque castle—and if fairytalesque wasn’t a word before, it damn well was now!
“I don’t date people I work with,” she said. “It’s too awkward when it ends.”
Teyin Airkin suppressed a shiver as he stood waiting in the Mirror Chamber deep within the heart of Shatterstone. No windows graced the bare stone walls, excluding the heat of the morning sun which bathed the streets of Seelie Court in its amber brilliance.