One Page Stories

I sit across at an angle and see myself split in the reflection that should fit. The power, the hunger encompassing my young physical nature. Rolled over a day later. Forbidden from existence resented ever after. The shallow ocean waters mirror my inner insecurity.

I mourn and scuffle over the spilled white shame in my palms. I haven’t struggled contrary I gave the way but lost control the moment I pulled away. A few seconds later, efficiently the body has its glory, leaving me to worry over the deed unholy. I don’t

Speak hollow with an image borrowed from a tradesman who never has traveled beyond the city limits. Answer your own questions with an immediate intensity. Deliver the long-forgotten, long-promised gift to your worst enemy. Divide and conquer the events you’ve meant to attend to the past week.

Cascading pearls trickle in droplets tears falter under their own shine tickle when the concubine replaces a title with a breath of a new name. Be the monster she is tame around and forever.

How susceptible are we to the wrong lane? The first to stand has no goal, the next comes up and makes you think maybe there is something worthy worth the wait. Two more come and stop right after, without thinking or a spoken word a human lane the length of

Looking at the Magi's Tower. Far off into the distance fittingly placed with neighboring shacks stood a tiny homey house. Each time I presided over our land my sight has been lured by the inviting stashed away simplicity. The man who tirelessly worked the land in front often