Was passiert? What's happening in this city? Smiling faces have disappeared, hoods are on, ugly trolls march in the streets... Some disrespectful punks have pinched my venerable old bike!! The friendly round little diablotins have morphed into ugly scumbags, the air smells of sulphur... A few days away, and this is a different place, … Continue reading Die Stadt, und die Stadt #WritersWednesday
Weekly Writing Prompt #146 This was the part he disliked, a role torn from his past, somewhere, far back, as if a trap was slowly closing, as if a fuse was slowly burning... Picture: Edvard Munch, Vampyr, 1893 - source Wikimedia Commons
Turrets When we left - how long ago was it? - it was summer. As we look over the tall trees, disappearing through the dark, icy air, we know that, here, wherever "here" is, it's winter. But we don't feel the cold, we just know it is. Through the foliage covered with snow, the … Continue reading Turrets #writephoto
Acknowledgement lucastorquato27.deviantart.com I wasn't at my best, hot, bothered, coughing, feeling sick. But that's the time she chose. We hadn't had a real talk, the way she wants, for a while. Evidently, I had been working, making progress, trying to move forward, damn. The shimmer around her was an omen of what was to follow: the … Continue reading A witness in the night
He dreamed of speeches he may have made, once, as a much younger and more confident man, to audiences he held in awe, of intractable dilemmas he would have resolved, in another age, perhaps another world: what he feared most was his own past. Long forgotten antagonists were reappearing, more menacing, whose names he … Continue reading The Man Who Feared His Past #WritersWednesday
Thursday May 4 I must have lost consciousness for a long time. I don't remember who I am, I don't know where I am. Was I travelling? Where did I start my journey? I look up, alerted by the sound of waves. It is dusk. Is this desolate shore my final destination? On whose … Continue reading Obelisk #writephoto
Not sure how to participate? You haunt our nights, not the you, seductive, smooth, sexy, not the one we meet in full daylight, but the one whom we cannot name. We see you in the shadow, beyond those trenches, beyond the cloud of blood and murder: for you are the Enemy, armed and pitiless, the one we, … Continue reading Nightmare #TheDailyPost
Crash In “On Writing”, which is also a concentrated story of his life, Stephen King describes how, while on a walk, he was run over and nearly killed by a mad driver. I too brushed with death in a car accident, some twenty years ago. And it was my fault: a brief loss of attention, … Continue reading #BlogMeMaybe: May 8 – May I tell you something about myself?