This blog is dedicated to the written word. It extols the art of the story, the between-the-scene sub-texts that make up the arc. Congenial is a term I use in all its versatility. I believe, for the most part, each story out of a writer's head is somehow relevant to a story or book they have written or will write. Even occasional poems can be inspired by or be evocative of a piece of prose. In an individual writer's universe stories all are incrementally finer dust from one great star story
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A bed-ridden hacker is bound to cough
I woke up November 9, 2016 to see my visibly upset wife. I never shed a tear for Clinton's loss and its consequence. I was info...
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Two Atmospheres to Silence I see my dept gauge move as though it is possessed. I am getting deeper by the beat of my heart, to the ...
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A Caustic Review Sound sounded canned, reverberating off walls, landing clumsily on my ears. I can only imagine what the band wa...
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Shuffling Through London Fuckface grimaces with subtle nuance. Her face crunches up like a bagpipe poorly played. She inches a s...
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