Theraphose: An Origin Part 1 of 3

“Theraphose!” The melodious voice rang down the hallway, catching in his ear and making him turn. The tall lanky blond man smiled warmly at his younger sister and embraced her as she reached him. “Attalla! I’ve missed you. How do you fare?” His sister pulled away, brushed her dark hair away from her face and… Continue reading Theraphose: An Origin Part 1 of 3

The Guitarist

I feel like I’ve been silent longer than a week, but I have not. Thanks for your continued readership. For your reading pleasure today, a poem inspired by a guitarist in my favorite band. He steps on stage, unaware Of the affect of his music on my soul. His fingers caress the strings, bring forth… Continue reading The Guitarist

Jason

This is long and may be depressing. If you read it thank you, if not, I understand. It is non fiction. I was going to post this in a widow’s page on Facebook, then couldn’t as someone else had just posted something I felt was in direct contradiction to what I am trying to get… Continue reading Jason