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Silence encompassed the village. Faint trails of wood smoke wound a sinuous way up into the cloudless night sky. The heavens a soft velvet blue with...

Her every promise a family fulfilled, grasping for that touch of bliss, where hopes and dreams are bestowed with a tender kiss. An Indian Summer came...

"Monster" can mean something different to everyone. Fear is very individual. A short story written for a Halloween edition of my school newspaper. Parts of this may or may not have happened to me in real life.

Do you have Psychic power? Pick a word beginning with F Try to send the word to me psychically. I'm concentrating hard. Think of an image of whatever...

Chorus: Little leaves tumble down from the trees of Autumn; little child, tumble in to bed. Little leaves drift away on the winds of Autumn; drift...

To a Christian Source 4/4/13 Please, please pray for me for thyroid disease (hypothyroidism); severe sleeping difficulties; depressive issues;...

This is from a series of prose vignettes I've written, all of which tie into one story. All entries from the series are semi-biographical, this one in particular reflecting a real situation and based on real people, one of whom was me and the other, a prostitute named Molly. It's rather long but I couldn't split it appropriately so bravo and thank you if you make it to the end!

A week in the life of my son, Sam, told as if from his own perspective. Written in September 2015 .

Today again she will flick her fag butt in the gutter and walk off down Cleveland Street in the half light. She stands under a purple umbrella,...