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Chapter 4 from a really old unfinished novel: Imago, a Fictitious Memoir
No one needed or really wanted to ask about the classroom gore of the morning, letting go and moving on were what teachers had been trained to do. Read more
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Black Ties
You have to stay here. We can’t let you leave the bar, you might tell someone of our predicament. Read more
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Sister Karma
God, if you say one more weird thing about something, I’m gonna “thoat punch” you. Read more
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Novel Time
Writing a novel is the culmination of what I’ve been preaching most of my whole life. Read more
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Picturetrove
Suzanne giggled and stomped her feet at the secret she held, the power. Read more
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Lucid Dreaming…with a few corrections
Will stole their words and actions for his newest play. Bad juju. Bad, bad juju for Will.
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Writing Space
The sun doesn’t shine a lot back here, so it’s always cooler, much cooler, back here in the woods where the flowers grow.
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DP Benches
To see the edges of the art deco bank covered in blue and green sparkles was something out of a snowglobe.
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Wishes
“Well, why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind so I can deal with it,” said Betty.
Devonne Brown 