Sticky Note Session 1: 2 "Rot"

I had another sticky note moment last night. This time, after getting home from work and finding my apartment reeking of decay because I forgot to take the trash out before leaving for work, this little bit came tumbling out of mind.

How heart wrenching would it be to ache with need for so many things around you, to be beautiful to the eye and have such an open and pure soul but only be able to touch with the stench of death?

What kind of life would this person lead? Is it a curse cast upon them? Or the consequences of choices previously made? Can it be undone? Or are they eternally doomed to a life of solitude?

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A Snippet: Golden Children of the Night

Since so many people have been following my twitter posts of me writing , here is a snippet unedited of what I've done so far. Enjoy! ...They watched as another bolt of lightening struck the ground, forcing them to bend into their stances to resist falling to their knees, and formed into a tall gleaming female figure. The armored woman’s eyes flickered with golden irises as she took each of them in before addressing them. “You speak as if you have earned a place upon Olympia, Dead King,” she said, her lyrical voice commanding between them as her eyes bore into Belloros. “You are old, Athena, and the Romans will see to it that nothing of Ancient Greece shall remain standing,” he replied defiantly, “including you.” Those wise eyes turning her way, she met them unflinching but not without respect. She felt measured, as she had the last time she stood before the Gods of Olympus, and like before she kept her words to herself. “And you seek to bet...

Short Story S:5 P 1 - "Unseen Hands"

You want noise when something happens. A blaring warning sign. A whisper of foreboding. A chill of uncertainty. You want another person nearby. A hand to hold onto. A rush of moving bodies to motivate you to safety. A sense of unity. A pack survival mentality. You want a tool. A device to give you advantage. Hope for success. A net for security, should you have to risk it all. A life line. What you don’t want. What you fear the most. Is the unpredictability of nothingness. Because that is where real terror begins. Humanity is so certain our greatest enemies will meet us on the battlefields in manners we understand, that we never stop to consider.... That they don’t think the way we do. There will be no siren. No amount of individuals beside you to make a difference. No technology to aid you. All there will be is a moment--a single flickering second of discord--and then.... oblivion. You see, our greatest enemies can perceive our mortal coil....

Short Story S: 5 P 2 - "The Whistler"

It's trailing after me. Wherever it's coming from. That stupid eerie whistling noise. It's kind of like an old song...but not? Stupid old miner's house. Stupid ghost stories. Stupid cute boys... I should have known better than to take on the dare just to impress Josh. No matter how handsome the basketball player is, he isn't worth dying in a goddamn haunted shit hole for. I should have shrugged them off at the beach party. Should have watched how much I was drinking. Shouldn't have kissed those stupid soft lips. Sigh. Too late now. "Where is that coming from?!" I can't make out shit beyond shapes in this fucking place, and it's almost like someone is literally right behind me whistling that tune in some bad horror movie trope. Up the creaking steps. Down the worn dusty hallway. Past the numerous open ...

A Mind in Motion

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