She’s running as fast as she can.

Down streets she careens not unlike a panicked gazelle. She’s floating over sidewalks as she strips her jacket off for better flexibility. She’s pumping her arms like a manic steam engine. Her shoulders scream.

Bikers whistle as her blouse blows ope… Read full post »

Percy had a secret.

He wondered if Mrs. Cansada would still sweetly pat his hand with her frail one after paying, or remark on his expert grocery-bagging technique, or how gently he handled her tomatoes, if she knew of his sordid hobby.

The excited divorcee that methodically did… Read full post »

 “Are you bargaining with me, my friend?” Her tone would have breathed frost on a beer glass. She swiveled her face toward him, the customary annoyance now mixed with innocent disbelief. 

“I’m not your friend,” he corrected, matching her tone. “If I show… Read full post »

 “People think you have either a ticking bomb in there or Gwyneth Paltrow’s head,” she seamlessly lit another cigarette,  “but given you are no Brad Pitt, I think it’s safe to assume it’s not the latter,” she blew out the threadlike stream of acrid… Read full post »

The Power of Three

At 3:17 PM today, I turn 33.

I was born in March, the third month of the year, on Wednesday, the third day of the week. There is a folk rhyme that sings “Wednesday’s child is full of woe.”

Perhaps, but the Hebrew Bible also spins tales… Read full post »

(Short story. Part I of II)  

“What’s in the box, Lothar?” She interrogated in the abrupt manner she had patented all unto herself, a fine film of impatience lubricating every word she said, be it remarking on the weather or demanding how she preferred her steak cooke… Read full post »

I’ve been on OS for about two months, give or take. It’s been good for me; it makes me accountable to my writing and to those that actually want to read my rambles.

It’s taught me how to take compliments with more dignity.

I’m… Read full post »

She pushed him down the stairs with a happiness that frightened her because it enlivened her. Her toes curling like a nice long stretch after waking from a nap.

And, as he plummeted, his pupils expanded like felt marker on white paper, reflecting a childish shock, as if he opened her prese… Read full post »

She parked the car haphazardly, careening into a stubborn snow packed curb. A string of expletives tumbled from her mouth followed by a ceremonious thud. She cursed one last time for good measure as her coffee, teetering adventurously in the cup holder, sloshed from its mug, splashing down… Read full post »

Before the playful dawn wriggles her feverish pink fingers over the treetops and the early velvet morning drapes itself on her bedroom like drop cloth over a fragile painting, she lies awake; vowing that today will be different.

Dale did her best dreaming with open eyes, the thick folds of her… Read full post »

My mother came home one evening to find me tucked away in my bedroom, our house cat Pork Chop grooming himself at my feet, my nose in a book.

She perched her small frame on the edge of my bed, a frown stenciled on her face. She could wear… Read full post »

A very wise person once told me that I would die young, and I thought of her that day in my green bathroom that became my green coffin.

As my lungs issued their last few respirations and the meth-head I would come to learn was named Lucy (such a sweet name… Read full post »

“Dance with me,” his breath swam into her ear, an oily mixture of demand and desperation. Lips grazed her cheekbone. The music trembled anxiously with sharp guitar pangs and occasional balmy licks from the ocean air tickled the baby fine hairs at her temples. Their small table was littere… Read full post »

(First excerpt)

The bathroom I died in was green. 

The cool creamy jade eased itself onto the stall doors to seep down prettily, kissing the smooth minty tiles like melting ice cream. Stubby sinks squatted to the left of the door, a darker shade of oriental jade, like ancient relics.… Read full post »

i don't normally do blind dates, did one because he was a referral, literally, from a man who seemed to have his poop in a group, so i figured why not? perhaps i also felt a little obligatory pang as well, since this man who barely knew me felt i was… Read full post »

Adam came into my life on the seventh day, during the seventh chapter.

He was an explosion of cheekbones, smoke-filled eyes and paint brushes, the man we were all waiting for, his long leg muscles pumping under faded denim jeans as he walked toward us. Most women, when asked what sort… Read full post »

Author's note: this is an excerpt from an exercise on writing in the steampunk genre. It is unfinished and unrefined.

Shush now, cease your squabbling. If you listen quietly, you'll hear her.

It starts faintly, a distant buzzing both gentle and constant that soon has you flapping… Read full post »

Before the playful dawn wriggles her feverish pink fingers over the treetops and the early velvet morning drapes itself on her bedroom like drop cloth over a fragile painting, she lies awake; vowing that today will be different.

Dale did her best dreaming with open eyes, the thick folds of her… Read full post »