Tag Archives: writing
Beside Her
She slept beside him every night, but could not bring herself to curl close, no matter how cold she was. Not for all the warmth in the world. He had too much rage about him, and it frightened her, even … Continue reading
We Murdered Her
Together, we murdered her, eighteen years ago. We did it without warning, without even noticing. I am wearing her skin, and I walk her around as though her name is mine. I am her ghost, but I am the dead … Continue reading
Happy Halloween
“Death to you and your open door,” she said, walking airily down the street. She avoided people, somehow managed not to touch them, and though she wore only dark slacks and a man’s white buttondown shirt with twenties in the … Continue reading
Terror I Know
The terror I know does not come from gore, not from killers or monsters with bone fingers or the slow, steady gait that will always catch a victim who is running through the woods. It does not come from skeletons … Continue reading
Heart of a King
When I was a boy, I was to be presented to the king, given to him to be his companion, his guardian, his friend and ally. Anyone who stepped before him had to give tribute of some kind, but I … Continue reading