Posts

The Ghost in the Mirror (Blogophilia 15.17)

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The small woman stood in front of the mirror, studying what she had become. Stronger. Still standing. The reflection of headlights in the bedroom mirror startled her like it had so many nights. Elena laughed and twirled a copper strand of hair into a braid. The news of Gregory’s death came in a headline she almost didn’t read. They called him generous. Visionary. A loss to the business world.  Should she dance? Trip the light fantastic on the news? She didn’t feel relief. Not exactly. Death, especially a natural one, was too easy. Too clean. Gregory never saw the eyes of those he hurt. It was all beneath him.  The way he smiled, like he owned the air you breathed. The way he touched her shoulder in meetings. The threats. The promises. She went to Julian after the weekend at the hotel. It was more of a confession of her sin rather than Gregory’s  Averted eyes told her all she needed to know. Power protects itself. While Julan knew she had been wronged, he wouldn’t offer a ...

The Weight of Silence (Blogophilia 14.17)

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The rain had begun to fall again, soft, steady, like a whisper against the glass. Julian was deep in thought. A fire crackled behind him, casting flickering shadows across the mahogany walls of the study. The smell of old books and expensive whiskey swirled, the kind that tasted like secrets. He stared at the portrait above the fireplace. Gregory Langston. To the rest of the world, he was a visionary whose products changed the world. Behind closed doors, a monster with insatiable lusts. Gregory was dead now. A heart attack, they said. Alone in his penthouse, surrounded by luxury and no one who truly loved him. What was the last thought as he descended into the darkness? Did he want one more minute? Probably not.  He was in his office the the call came. Julian had once admired him. Had once believed in the myth of the self-made man, the titan who built empires from dust. Gregory had taken Julian under his wing. Mentored him. Groomed him. You could say raped him. No. That wasn’t true...

Black Rainbows (Blogophilia 12.17)

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  When all else fails And the Government, too You can always hark back To the days of old Where all the rainbows were black From the fires of the enemy The enemy, of course is the Orange Fool

Taylor Square (Blogophilia 11.17)

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  I got an intergalactic call The helmeted one wanted to brunch With biscuits the size of his head Meet me in Taylor Square, Savannah, my friend An old hole in the wall hidden by Spanish Moss The greeter sings you to your seat While Louie rings through the Muzak. There's an old bookstore across the street Where we will work off the meal And find angels in the architecture.

Mountains (Blogophilia 10.17)

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  3 A.M. Can't sleep News wasn't good Another landslide in the way My tired eyes scan the screen The quote shows Asking me What can you control? Yes-Change No-Accept and move on Either way It's a different world. 

A Sparkly Screen (blogophilia 9.17)

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  They gave us the instructions. I thought they were too good to be true. I was right, She couldn't believe it But the sparkly screen said otherwise And now we wait.

Interesting.

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