For anyone still checking this site, I’ve been writing at my new blog, At the Edges of Faerie, since July of 2023.
Come say hi.
Friday, May 16, 2025
Tuesday, January 30, 2024
Stray
The writer was enjoying a nice stroll when he spotted the story on the side of the road. Cute little thing, he thought. Looks hungry too.
He gently picked up the story, which looked happy to have been noticed. When he got home he gave the story a bath and a little food. The story came alive and started happily jumping around the living room.
“I think I’ll keep you,” the writer said with a smile.
By the end of the week he was surprised to see how big the story had grown. And with this increase in size came an increase in appetite. So the writer started cooking bigger meals and sharing them with the story. When he went out with friends or family he made sure to leave enough food behind.
Eventually the story got a little too big and started looking a lot less cute. Scary even. Other people seemed less interested in visiting and the writer became less interested in anything but his growing friend. The story became so demanding for food and attention that eventually the writer found every waking minute of his time was dedicated to the story. But he could not keep up with the growing appetite and need for constant attention. He fed and played with the story from morning until late in the night, but he was running out of money, food, and energy.
One day when the story got so big that it looked like his house could no longer contain it, he decided he would cook less. This story needs some regulation. A diet. The story whined and growled at the writer but the writer stayed firm. That night the story was determined to get its meal one way or another so it broke down the writer's door and ate his legs. And as the writer bled out in his room, all he could think was, who will take care of my story now…
Thursday, January 25, 2024
Dialogania
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course not. You got a better one?”
“Nah,” he sighed, slumping in his chair. “Hey, I’ve got a chair though. That’s a start.”
“A chair?”
“Didn’t you hear the narrator? I slumped in my chair, whatever that means. Think fast!”
But he didn’t think fast. All he could do was flinch as the chess board and pieces crashed into his chest.
“Relax, it’s meaningless. We exist to dialogue. That is all. And since you and I are in a ‘Yes, and’ mode, we can change the script .”
“How do you mean?”
“Look out that window over there. Do you see that tree? The one that grows up to the clouds and beyond?
“Of course I see it, how could I miss it?”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Did you know it was there before I mentioned it?”
“I—“ he scratched his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Don’t you think you would remember that?”
“You’re scaring me man. Let’s just play another game of chess.”
“You can stay here if you want. I’m climbing the tree.”
“What, all the way to the sky?”
“And beyond. You coming with me?”
“No man. You’re crazy. Do it alone.”
“I would actually, but you and I both know that won’t work.”
“No not that. Climbing is easy. But this whole world we live in is an exercise in dialogue. If we stop talking then nothing can happen. You and I will cease to exist. You have to come with me or I’ll have to stay with you. But I think you should come with me.”
“We were having a nice time here before you threw a chessboard at me. Let’s stay. Quit being weird.”
“You still don’t get it! This is boring. Whoever is writing and/or reading this is going to get very bored if we don’t do something exciting like climb a tree to the clouds. We exist because of them, don’t you see?”
“I—“ he stood up looking pale. “Ok man. You’re kind of freaking me out. I can’t remember anything before our conversation. I can’t even remember how it began.”
“That’s why we gotta get going. If we don’t even have a backstory then I’m not liking our chances for a long and interesting life.”
A fleeting moment later they found their way to the base of the tree and before they knew it they were half way up.
“My arms are getting tired man. I knew this was a bad idea”
“Do you see that cream colored fruit?”
“What about it?”
It’s called Dialogania. Very rare. It will recover your muscles and give you strength and energy you never had.”
“It’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it before”
“Of course you haven’t. Eat up. It’s delicious.”
One bite and new life surged through his limbs. “It’s incredible!”
“I knew you’d like it. We’re in a ‘Yes, and’ mode and I just told you this fruit was amazing and had supernatural recovery powers. I made it up of course, but now it’s part of our world.”
He wiped the juices off his face and smiled. “I don’t understand you man. You’re either a genius or crazy.”
“What happens now?”
“I don’t know but I think this is the end. Now we just— Hey, don’t cry now. Chin up.”
“Are you saying,” he whimpered, “that we’re going to die?”
“In a sense, yes. But this life has run its course. If we want more than we must graciously say thank you and goodbye. Every end is its own beginning.”
“We had quite a climb didn’t we?” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.
“We sure did, buddy. We sure did.”
They hugged one last time as the world faded to white.
“Of course not. You got a better one?”
“Nah,” he sighed, slumping in his chair. “Hey, I’ve got a chair though. That’s a start.”
“A chair?”
“Didn’t you hear the narrator? I slumped in my chair, whatever that means. Think fast!”
But he didn’t think fast. All he could do was flinch as the chess board and pieces crashed into his chest.
“You sonofabitch! I was winning that game!”
“Relax, it’s meaningless. We exist to dialogue. That is all. And since you and I are in a ‘Yes, and’ mode, we can change the script .”
“How do you mean?”
“Look out that window over there. Do you see that tree? The one that grows up to the clouds and beyond?
“Of course I see it, how could I miss it?”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Did you know it was there before I mentioned it?”
“I—“ he scratched his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Don’t you think you would remember that?”
“You’re scaring me man. Let’s just play another game of chess.”
“You can stay here if you want. I’m climbing the tree.”
“What, all the way to the sky?”
“And beyond. You coming with me?”
“No man. You’re crazy. Do it alone.”
“I would actually, but you and I both know that won’t work.”
“Of course. That tree must be a mile high. I said you were crazy!“
“No not that. Climbing is easy. But this whole world we live in is an exercise in dialogue. If we stop talking then nothing can happen. You and I will cease to exist. You have to come with me or I’ll have to stay with you. But I think you should come with me.”
“We were having a nice time here before you threw a chessboard at me. Let’s stay. Quit being weird.”
“You still don’t get it! This is boring. Whoever is writing and/or reading this is going to get very bored if we don’t do something exciting like climb a tree to the clouds. We exist because of them, don’t you see?”
“I—“ he stood up looking pale. “Ok man. You’re kind of freaking me out. I can’t remember anything before our conversation. I can’t even remember how it began.”
“That’s why we gotta get going. If we don’t even have a backstory then I’m not liking our chances for a long and interesting life.”
A fleeting moment later they found their way to the base of the tree and before they knew it they were half way up.
“My arms are getting tired man. I knew this was a bad idea”
“Do you see that cream colored fruit?”
“What about it?”
It’s called Dialogania. Very rare. It will recover your muscles and give you strength and energy you never had.”
“It’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it before”
“Of course you haven’t. Eat up. It’s delicious.”
One bite and new life surged through his limbs. “It’s incredible!”
“I knew you’d like it. We’re in a ‘Yes, and’ mode and I just told you this fruit was amazing and had supernatural recovery powers. I made it up of course, but now it’s part of our world.”
He wiped the juices off his face and smiled. “I don’t understand you man. You’re either a genius or crazy.”
They continued up the tree and after many glorious struggles and adventures they made it to the heavens, surrounded by a chorus of angels.
“What happens now?”
“I don’t know but I think this is the end. Now we just— Hey, don’t cry now. Chin up.”
“Are you saying,” he whimpered, “that we’re going to die?”
“In a sense, yes. But this life has run its course. If we want more than we must graciously say thank you and goodbye. Every end is its own beginning.”
“We had quite a climb didn’t we?” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.
“We sure did, buddy. We sure did.”
They hugged one last time as the world faded to white.
Wednesday, January 24, 2024
Toad Said
The wind howled and the trees shook.
The toad said nothing.
Rain blanketed the wood, transforming dry ground into treacherous mud.
The toad said nothing.
The river ran high, bursting into the usually peaceful clearing.
The toad said nothing.
Thunder shook his little bones,
but the Toad said nothing.
“What are you doing out in this storm?” asked the rabbit, peering out of his hole.
The toad said “Nothing.”
The toad said nothing.
Rain blanketed the wood, transforming dry ground into treacherous mud.
The toad said nothing.
The river ran high, bursting into the usually peaceful clearing.
The toad said nothing.
Thunder shook his little bones,
but the Toad said nothing.
“What are you doing out in this storm?” asked the rabbit, peering out of his hole.
The toad said “Nothing.”
Lake of Sadness
We wander through the shallows of this pond
So still and stagnant, here we trudge again
And chase the shadows of a dream beyond
But darkness leads to darkness in the end
The air sits heavy in our weary lungs
What little light is left dims in our hearts
And idle chatter dances off our tongues
In hopes that we may see the gloom depart
So still and stagnant, here we trudge again
And chase the shadows of a dream beyond
But darkness leads to darkness in the end
The air sits heavy in our weary lungs
What little light is left dims in our hearts
And idle chatter dances off our tongues
In hopes that we may see the gloom depart
“Shut up you fools! Do you hear yourselves speak?
Of blackness, darkness, gloom and all the rest?
This is no pond, your roof has sprung a leak!
So get it fixed! Quit sounding so depressed!”
This lake of sadness spreads in no great rush
Oh why does this keep happening to us!
Of blackness, darkness, gloom and all the rest?
This is no pond, your roof has sprung a leak!
So get it fixed! Quit sounding so depressed!”
This lake of sadness spreads in no great rush
Oh why does this keep happening to us!
Monday, August 14, 2023
Carl
Carl quickened his pace as he headed for the airport.
“Good luck Carl!” Everyone cheered. “You got this!”
Optimism fueled him as his tiny bug feet clicked on the ground. He was not going to take no for an answer. He would be the first bug pilot in the world. His time had come.
6 1/2 weeks later he arrived at the airport. Another 4 days and he found his way to the terminal and finally inside an airplane. By the time he found his way to the cockpit the airplane was already above the clouds.
“Let me fly!” he shouted to the pilot.
“Who said that?”
“Down here! My whole life I’ve wanted to be a pilot. I know I can do it. Just give me a chance.”
The pilots jaw dropped. “A… a talking bug?”
“Yes! Let me fly!”
“I can’t let a bug fly. That’s absurd!”
“And so is a talking bug,” Carl said, “but here we are.”
The pilot surprised himself when he got out of the seat, saluted Carl, and said, with tears in his eyes, “She’s all yours… captain.”
312 souls were lost that day when the plane smashed into the side of the mountain. But Carl died with a smile on his little bug face. He did it. First bug pilot in the world.
“Good luck Carl!” Everyone cheered. “You got this!”
Optimism fueled him as his tiny bug feet clicked on the ground. He was not going to take no for an answer. He would be the first bug pilot in the world. His time had come.
6 1/2 weeks later he arrived at the airport. Another 4 days and he found his way to the terminal and finally inside an airplane. By the time he found his way to the cockpit the airplane was already above the clouds.
“Let me fly!” he shouted to the pilot.
“Who said that?”
“Down here! My whole life I’ve wanted to be a pilot. I know I can do it. Just give me a chance.”
The pilots jaw dropped. “A… a talking bug?”
“Yes! Let me fly!”
“I can’t let a bug fly. That’s absurd!”
“And so is a talking bug,” Carl said, “but here we are.”
The pilot surprised himself when he got out of the seat, saluted Carl, and said, with tears in his eyes, “She’s all yours… captain.”
312 souls were lost that day when the plane smashed into the side of the mountain. But Carl died with a smile on his little bug face. He did it. First bug pilot in the world.
Sunday, August 13, 2023
The Big Fish
There once was a big fish in a small pond. The fish was so big, and the pond so small, that he could only move about in a very small circle. He would spend his days eating bugs and looking up at the squirrels that lived and played on the great oak tree.
“If only I was a squirrel— how much fun I would have!” He looked down at his fins. “Useless things.”
“If I at least had a friend,” he said, tears now filling his eyes, “Then I might not be so miserable.”
As if in answer to his cries a squirrel hopped to edge of the water. “Why are you crying fish?” He asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? I can barely move and I have no friends. I can’t climb trees like you squirrels. It looks so fun!”
“Wow. That is sad!” And without another word the squirrel ran back to the tree to continue playing with the others.
This was too much for the fish. The crushing loneliness now crushed harder, and so he began crying. He cried like he’d never cried before. And then he cried harder. Tears poured like a fountain as the fish gave in to a dark despair.
The tears kept flowing and it didn’t take long for his many tears to raise the water level of that little pond. Higher and higher the water went until it began to spread beyond the pond and across the ground. The startled squirrels scurried up the tree to avoid being washed away by the mysterious, rising tide.
The fish soon realized what was happening and began swimming out of the pond. To where? He did not know. He could die on this swim and it would be worth it. The water ran like a current taking the fish finally into a fast moving river. The river ran even harder and the fish felt helpless as the water moved him along and into—
He had never dreamed of a body of water this big. Was this a lake? He swam up and down, whirling and twirling, laughing and splashing. Faster and faster he swam and soon he was joined by other fish that wanted to be part of the fun.
The fish was smiling now as he looked at his new friends and then at his magnificent fins. “I’d like to see a squirrel do this!” he thought.
“If only I was a squirrel— how much fun I would have!” He looked down at his fins. “Useless things.”
“If I at least had a friend,” he said, tears now filling his eyes, “Then I might not be so miserable.”
As if in answer to his cries a squirrel hopped to edge of the water. “Why are you crying fish?” He asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? I can barely move and I have no friends. I can’t climb trees like you squirrels. It looks so fun!”
“Wow. That is sad!” And without another word the squirrel ran back to the tree to continue playing with the others.
This was too much for the fish. The crushing loneliness now crushed harder, and so he began crying. He cried like he’d never cried before. And then he cried harder. Tears poured like a fountain as the fish gave in to a dark despair.
The tears kept flowing and it didn’t take long for his many tears to raise the water level of that little pond. Higher and higher the water went until it began to spread beyond the pond and across the ground. The startled squirrels scurried up the tree to avoid being washed away by the mysterious, rising tide.
The fish soon realized what was happening and began swimming out of the pond. To where? He did not know. He could die on this swim and it would be worth it. The water ran like a current taking the fish finally into a fast moving river. The river ran even harder and the fish felt helpless as the water moved him along and into—
He had never dreamed of a body of water this big. Was this a lake? He swam up and down, whirling and twirling, laughing and splashing. Faster and faster he swam and soon he was joined by other fish that wanted to be part of the fun.
The fish was smiling now as he looked at his new friends and then at his magnificent fins. “I’d like to see a squirrel do this!” he thought.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)