A demon ate my museRead More Poem – Where My Muse Used to Be
The Memorist looked tired; exhausted even. It was an exhausting thing she did for people, taking on their memories.Read More Micro Fiction – The Memorist
(Based on Grimms’ Sleeping Beauty) It had been only a single gasp of air that alerted her to the trouble.Read More Short Story – 100 Years
You are a snowflake
Jagged edges, crystalline
Furtive in my grip.
(A re-imagining of Grimm’s Rapunzel) It began with a peculiar blossom. The winter had been long and frigid and barren, but for a tiny blossoming plant outside her window.Read More Short Story – Holly, Out There
Smile, sucralose sweet; Assaultingly artificial. Eyes, whispering half truths in the dark. Mouth, filled to the brim; Spilling over with things said and not said. Glare as sharp as knives. Tongue spoiling into venom. Behind that smile, A sugary death awaits.Read More Poem – Too Sweet