If Ever Something Happens
In this house, there is always music coming from the chimney, syrup dripping where there should be coffee, spider webs decanting where there should be wine…
We’re Not Dangerous
THE BUILDING
The building used to have a decent little library. At least that is what it looks like it was. We all felt compelled to explore the remnants of it at the beginning, looking for literature that was fitting to our state of mind, convinced that if we exercised our social knowledge, filled our brains with philosophical thought, maybe we could stop whatever it was that seemed to be affecting us…
Continue Reading in Jersey Devil Press
(This little story was read at one of the readings at Another Country Bookshop and is dedicated to all my fellow writer friends and the beautiful, magical stories they’ve shared with me.)
How to Make Stories
It starts in a basement.
You and many others are sitting there, have been sitting there, for ages, listening to stories. The stories are being read by invisible voices, and they demand your attention.
The thing is, even though you don’t know it yet, you will be tested.
Continue Reading at The Wild Word
Suki’s Unabridged Journey to the Train of Thought
It was on a summer night that Suki jumped out of that train and into that basement, not a winter one. She remembers the stale cigarette smell, still feels it scratching the back of her throat as she talks about it.
The rooms were filled with graffiti and brimming with loud music. Suki sashayed through the narrow, smoky corridors and crowds of people, every so often wiggling her hips to the rhythm of Guantanamera…
Continue reading at Literally Stories
The Night I Died
Washing up liquid, tent, sneakers, movie soundtracks, beer…
I died last night. I have no recollection of the accident that killed me, if there actually was one, but I died. Of that I’m sure.
It’s the sound of a voice, the soft beat of a drum, an accidental touch of a stray key, a voice calling someone, or something that was heard, with the eyes, seen with sound Continue reading “SYNESTHESIA”
The waves are easy. We let them out of ourselves without thinking. Everything we feel, everything we say, everything we do, is a trigger. And it becomes a wave. And the waves move around rooms, gardens, airplanes, trains, dance floors. Sometimes they meet with static waves, before those become waves, and blend into them to make something more physically perceivable; a reaction. Continue reading “TRIGGERS & WAVES”
Can you hear me? I can’t hear you but I know you’re there. I know you’re hiding in a little warm corner somewhere in the dark.
Do you want to come out? Do you want to play? Do you want to talk? Continue reading “HELLO?”
My house is a cube full of sounds, colors, dragons and puppies. Continue reading “HOUSES”
