Writings
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Tales from the Negaverse, Chapter 74
There’s someone in my house.I’ve lived here for years now,So long I’ve forgotten when I first came here.I’ve been here all this time,All alone.No visitors,No vacuum cleaner salesmen,No mailmen,No paper delivery boy,No census taker.Just me,And the dust that filters through the silent sunbeamsEvery day.But today is differentFrom all the days before,Because today there is someone…
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Life in a Nether House
She lives in a roomIn a house on a hill,A fantastic entrapment,A four story victorian nightmare,Paintings that watch her,Statues that stalk her,Trap door, false wall, secret corridor,Uncast shadows leading lives of their own.Melancholy are the days,The night time for wandering,In her dressing gown,Upstairs and down.She spends her time here,battling gryphon, goblin and goon.She’s lived among…
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People of the Stars
Why did they come here, the people from the stars?They certainly left behind their lives,Their loved ones,Their peace of mind,To come and experience our insanity. How did they get here, the people from the stars?Was it a rocket,Or maybe a tesseract,Or a wormhole?A fiery trip on a pressurized chariot?Comparable with nothing we can experience, to…
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Ectokynamics
I have recently been studying Ectokynamics under the tutelage of a mentor who shall remain nameless at this time. Ectokynamics is truly the answer to many of life’s persistent, unanswered questions. Questions such as ‘What were those lights in the sky last night over El Paso?’, ‘Why do I keep thinking I see someone at…
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Burning Bridges
One day I’ll burn this bridge that I built from memories of you and me, but for now I’m content to stand at the top and look over the edge, contemplating leaping…
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South America
I was in a small rowboat on a river somewhere south of Colombia, possibly somewhere along the border of Peru and Bolivia. We had started at Puerto Maldonado on Rio Madre de Dios, headed east, and took a turn to the south along a smaller course, the name of which escapes me at the moment.…
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Trapped
I stand before the door. It trembles and rattles, the knob loose in its mount rattling back and forth with a sinister intent. There are no windows in this room, no light save for that coming under the door, which is just enough illumination for me to see the shiny false brass of the doorknob…