Tag Archives: God
From Clay
I would love the way you wounded me even if I did not love you; only some kind of divine perfection must know how to bleed a man that much and still leave life remaining. God, you, the perfect sadist, … Continue reading
Flash Fiction Challenge – The Dead Body
Another one of Chuck’s Flash Fiction Challenges, from Terrible Minds. This comes in at exactly 1000 words. * * * “What have you done?” He stood next to where I crouched, looking down at the wreckage that was left. The … Continue reading
I Still Got Wings
If she was the original sinner, damned for knowing, I imagine she won’t mind that growing — cynicism in her veins the gathering mistrust of everything she was supposed to love as it crumbles into dust flaming sword aside She … Continue reading
Brilliance
He was mine, though he never knew it. His hands crafted worlds, fingers pulling them loose from the firmament, making webs between the bright lights of stars. He was a god, and didn’t know, weaving all the thoughts together, to … Continue reading
With Her Basket of Apples
She knew poetry from her lover, and could repeat it aloud, speaking of stars freshly hewn from the heavenscape, of the cosmic rain that washed her as she stood with her toes in the river, shy and yet unafraid. She … Continue reading