I pledge myself to you, my love, My life is no longer my own, My afterlife is unknown, If I'm fortunate, If I'm adequate, To be in the heavens, I'll plead for my home. Your eyes are my home, Your breath is my air, Your voice is my song, Your arms are my shrine, Your heart is my altar, Your smile is my prayer, Your han...
October Contest for the Storytellers Saloon. Prompt: You find a key. What does it open? Where does it lead you? 500 word Flash fiction. Deadline: OCT 31st Winners to be announced, Nov 5th. ©All rights are reserved by the authors posted within.
From wingless birds to creative masters - voices can be silenced but there's nothing that can stop wild imagination when it strikes. So here's a small handful of the poetry I've been writing from my humble corner to the world at large. These poems have been arranged into a series that explores the ups and downs betwe...
There's a new shopping-centre in the suburbs called Scrubber-Town. It's full of dodgy dealings, bad behaviour and larger-than-life characters. Some of these are: Komik kal, Kara-Lyn and Lainie and Janie, two BFF's who are roving-reporters for the monthly Scrubber-Town Saga magazine. Add to this the crazy mix of an al...
Enter the world of Claire Jones, where she occasionally runs into bizarre adversaries in her school and around her neighbourhood, Kaki Hantu. A world where every class is a crisis and every day is a social struggle. To top it all off, she has to deal with Jack, her annoying little brother and her parents who don't alw...
Six months ago, James brought his mother to the restaurant downstairs for her regular breakfast. James and I worked at the same bank. For some reason, he found it convenient to take me to work, which he did every day. He was the C.E.O and I was a customer relations officer. This my story of the day James and I decided...
"You just swallowed a watermelon seed, honey. You'll be better soon." But the mass in his stomach wasn't a watermelon, and he will never get better