Rebellion and Revenge

Emmett and I took turns at the helm, just for fun. In truth, the Bonny Anapest could steer herself, but we sang sea chanteys loud enough to raise Davey Jones and drank rum and and pretended to be pirates as we rode the cresting thermals of a line of training thunderstorms, imagining the distant roll Read More …

The Power of Imagination and Words

It’s not every day you see a royal blue call box sporting a mast and sails. “Well, aren’t you lovely?” I whispered as she proudly unfurled her flag. It wasn’t one I recognized; I’d expected a Jolly Roger, but this was gold flame and purple smoke on a field of crimson, and unlike any flag Read More …

Why Me?

“Should we tell her?” “She’ll figure it out, soon enough.” I overheard them whispering while I tried desperately to shed the futility of fifty-thousand thousand words in an afternoon. I’d seen it done, once or twice; instead of giving me hope, the knowledge that it was possible only heaped a larger dollop of inadequacy on Read More …

Drunk on Freedom, Dancing with the Jinn

NaBloPoMo. NaNoWriMo.¬†NaNoBloWriPoMo… “There’s just no redeeming this month, is there?” I asked Emmett, dejectedly. “Sure there is,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. He emerged from my kitchen bearing a large Mason jar full of freshly-squeezed pineapple juice. “Where did you get that?” I asked. I hadn’t bought pineapples or juice in a while. Read More …

There’s No Place Like 127.0.0.1

“Come on, Emmett, let’s go home.” New Orleans, bright and colorful and smelling of beignets and stale booze and coffee, now seemed soured and sinister. “You don’t want to explore the city while we’re here? It’s strange how much – and how little – has changed.” Emmett’s gaze traveled 360 degrees to take in all Read More …

Like Sand Through the Motherboard

As we walked the streets of the French Quarter,¬†I continued to ponder the plot, idly wondering which of Grimm’s fairy tales I was living. Perhaps I wasn’t living; perhaps I’d fallen, hit my head, and was somewhere hooked up to life support… I struggled to keep up with Emmett’s longer stride, and realized that if Read More …

Like Fireflies in a Pickle Jar

“What the hell just happened back there?” I asked. “You two have a history, don’t you? How’d I get dragged into this? Talk to me, Emmett, or I swear to God I’ll hire a car, drive back to Houston, and leave you here.” The old woman had kicked us out of the courtyard after foisting Read More …

Madame and the Warranty

The beignets were certainly as good as I remembered them. Warm, slightly chewy dough, deep-fried and liberally dusted with powdered sugar, they practically melted in my mouth. The coffee was strong enough to hold up to milk and sharpened all my senses. “So, you know New Orleans?” I was grasping for the connection. “Of course. Read More …

It’s…Different on the Inside

We began to roll out of the driveway. Emmett examined the dashboard with great interest.He fiddled with the AC knob and radio seek buttons, startling himself as the radio landed on a rather loud Death Metal station. “First car trip?” I asked. There would likely be a lot of firsts, all within the first hour Read More …

Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You

Barefoot and dressed only in a thin black tank top and California Crazee pants, I made a beeline for the coffee maker. My new friend was already up, trying to figure out how to use the satellite and DVR with its six remotes – each of them having one or more unique functions and about Read More …

The Challenge

“The challenge,” Prunebutt mused, “is not to think too far ahead.” It referred, of course, to my compulsive, headlong commitment to things like NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo. I used to refer to these as “Nah, go blow me” and “Nah, no wri’ mo…” but I’ve stuck with the latter, more out of a sense of tradition Read More …