Dusting off the keys.

Hello all. I'm not sure how many people read this, but I suspect some do.

I've been absent these several months, sorting things out in my own life, and taking a break from writing in the process. I've put aside the blog for far too long, however, and wish to remedy that in that near future.

However, as many of you have seen, most of my pieces are short-form scribbles, lacking any real beginning, middle, or end, just scenes that exist unto themselves. Not that there's anything wrong with that; flash fiction is something I enjoy, and would agree with some that it has adapted creative expression and aesthetic appreciation to our faster-moving times. Short stories are always wonderful exercises in life, and the moment, independent of all the baggage we may hold, deserves celebration.

However, for the longest time, maybe a few years, I've had much bigger stories to tell floating around in me, waiting for the time to come out. I feel that this may be as good of a time as any to seriously consider that possibility, to start outlining and drafting, to commit myself and my time to telling them. It may take years still to write them, to finish them insofar as anything written can ever truly be finished, but it is a commitment I hope to make. Some of the very stories posted here will become part of them, some of the stories I treasure the most.

I also hope to edit a few pieces I've written in the past two years, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, I can finally submit them for publication elsewhere. I've had links to certain magazines, online and in print, open on my browser for almost a year now; maybe now that I'm feeling better about myself and where I am in my life outside of writing, I can follow-through at long last.

So there may be still gaps of considerable time between posts, and I may use this as a sounding board for some of my other projects, or possibly as a way to explain my method or highlight the works of others. Furthermore, I'm considering using a much more personal pseudonym for my future works in print; that, however, I won't bother revealing until I actually succeed.

Thank you all for your patience and commitment. I can only hope to do my best as a writer from this point onward.

Scribble: The other, much better piece I wrote based on Smiletron's forthcoming EP needs more work. And set-up.

      Slender fingers slipped between the cold digits of her artificial arm, warming her heart through the servomotors and sensors beneath. She wasn't sure how she had arrived in this place, full of trees and the sounds of life all around her, basking in the twilight of perpetual evening; only that she was there, and felt somehow like home to her. With a confused smile, she turned to her companion, only to be greeted by a slender girl in a flowing violet dress, her eyes the color of starlight.
      "You're beautiful," she said bashfully, almost instinctively caressing her companion's soft cheek with her other, normal hand. "Are you the one who brought me here?"
      With a nod, the beautiful stranger slid her fingers around the outstretched hand, gently kissing the tawny palm before pressing it to her cheek once more. "I am the one you're destined to free," purred a soothing voice, though the stranger's lips did not move, "and the one destined to love you."
      Without another word, the nymph cupped her face in the warm, almost glowing hands, closing the glistening pools of starlight before drawing her lips to the girl's own.
      And with their kiss, she awoke, moonlight slipping in through the cracks in the blinds, her lips still sweet with the taste of the stars.

Scribble: One day, I will go back to writing about robots.

      She smiles a mischievous little smile, stretching lithe, porcelain arms across the bed, casually sliding over the bare, gently rising-and-falling tawny stomach below her. As a familiar pair of bright eyes, half-open, follow her, not leaving her own, her milky white fingertips gently trace long-forgotten letters upon her lover's body, the brightest of smiles growing ever so slightly with each touch. A warm hand reaches up to caress the living doll's cheek, as a wistful sigh mingles with a gentle purr, warm, moist lips gently kissing unseen lines along the soft, smooth olive skin.
      "I love you," comes a half-whisper, as the tiny kitten finds a familiar pair of lips shortly pressed against her own. So small in her lover's arms, the doll lets slip another sigh, sliding down to bury her delicate face in her lover's ample breast. Fingertips gingerly caressing her lover's smooth, supple body, she purrs once more, her lips lovingly seeking each untouched bit of flesh.
      "I love you," she breathily replies, nuzzling as a familiar hand traces patterns along her porcelain back. "I love you..."

Scribble: There is a star in Brooklyn tonight.

      A lonely star watched over the city, lost in the flashing lights of satellites and jetliners, no more than a ghost of starry nights past. Yet, far below, between streetlights and the dim hum of bodega signs, a pair of weary, heavy-lidded eyes stared skyward, not once drifting from the lonely point of light above.
      A flash in that place beyond sight, of a summer-yet-to-be filled with laughter, the kiss of gentle breezes and soft, familiar lips, of verdant days of adventure and starlit nights of tenderness. Fingertips drifted without stirring in the crisp evening air, memories of smooth skin, warm to the touch, floating to the surface. And far above, lost in the color of a star, the cerulean pools of ponds yet to be discovered, and the deepest beauty of unforgettable eyes.
      Soon, came a thought, joined by a laugh and an ever-present smile. Soon we'll be together again, my starlight...
      And somewhere between memories and dream, another star slipped into sight beside its companion, as a smile shone all the brighter.

Scribble: To be expanded into something called "The Immortal."

      With each footstep he took, the trees behind him blossomed, only to give way to leaves that grew and fell in a heartbeat, leaving bare branches to blossom once more. As branches creaked and dripped with dew, depressions left by footsteps soon gave way to moss, then grass, only to wither away and disappear under snow, again and again, gradually hiding any hint of a path. Yet, ahead of him, the path remained clear, the trees still budding with the kiss of spring, and all seemed perfectly still.
      Is this what forever is like? he thought, as ancient eyes drifted along the road ahead.
      He looked at his soft, ageless hands, stopping long enough to be buried beneath snow that would melt away each second. No longer could he feel the cold of winter or warmth of summer's sun; only his sight could tell him of the season's constant shift. Looking into the air, all he could see was the rich blue of a thousand days and nights at once, merging into the richest color he'd ever known.
      "Almost as beautiful as her eyes," he whispered, lost in the wind, as moss slowly overtook his legs. "Almost..."

Scribble: The Album Leaf came on Pandora.

      The salty spray tickled unshaven cheeks, as dark eyes drifted between puffs of white above. Hands bundled in the pockets of a worn, weathered hoodie, the wanderer just sighed, leaning against a dented car door. Morning light danced on the shimmering waters just beyond the old safety rail, gentler than the blinding reflection from the hood and roof behind him, but still slipping little needles of light into his eyes. Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out, the half-mocking laughter of a bird who knows no other sounds.
      "Are we almost ready?" came a gentle voice from behind, as the wanderer turned to see wind-tousled locks, splayed over shoulders, and eyes deeper than any ocean.
      She was smiling so brightly, he wasn't sure if he squinted from the harsh light off the roof. "I think so," he finally said, a smile slipping onto his stubbly face. "Let's go."
      A scene ended. An adventure began.

Scribble: I haven't been writing much lately.

      With a sigh, she slipped further into the cool, relaxing waters, as far overhead, the silhouette of some feathered traveler glided slowly into view. In but a matter of hours, fireflies would be beginning their evening duties of mirroring the stars, only to be swept-up in the frenzied dance of summer. For now, the lingering warm breeze reminded the nymph that the sun was still out, just barely hiding behind the verdant giants across the waters.
      With a smile, she closed the deep azure pools of her eyes, a faint giggle slipping past her lips and into the warm, calming air. Soon, she'd have to find her clothes and her way back to the tent. But for now, she thought, opening her eyes to gaze out at the water, this is just fine...

Scribble: Distracted in Class

...revisiting old ideas...

Scribble: Scribbled in a notebook while sitting beneath a tree.

      "What'cha reading?" chirped a sweetly curious voice from above.
      The reader, slightly distracted by her task, took a moment before flancing up at the girl in the branches. With a little laugh, she smiled at the eavesdropper, gingerly closing the dusty old tome.
      "Just something I found hidden away someplace," she replied, as her companion leaned over, carefully balanced atop her perch. "An old collection of stories, fables, and such. How about you? What're you doing out here?"
      "Oh, not much," chirped the eavesdropper with a smile, just before dropping gracefully beside the giggling reader. "Just, y'know . . . finding something that's hidden away someplace."
      Without another word, the reader simply blushed, as her companion nuzzled into her shoulder. Closing her eyes, she could hear a gentle sigh, lost in the sound of rustling leaves...

Scribble: Sometimes, I hope gender ambiguity can flow with vivid description.

      Birdsong fluttered through the cool morning air, as a pair of sleepy eyes gazed out over the waters, growing lost in the limbs of trees and rustling leaves. A playful breeze tickled bare arms and legs, running its unseen fingers through long, auburn locks, lulling about the shore and its slowly-waking nymph. A yawn teased the still-waking soul, tugging at her smiling lips, as she crossed her slender arms tightly over her chest for warmth.
      "Lovely," a whisper tickled at her ears, as another pair of arms wrapped tightly around the skin of her waist. Leaning back into a soft, familiar chest, the nymph sleepily nuzzled into such gentle warmth, finally letting slip the unrelenting yawn. With a renewed smile, she slid her arms over her lover's own, quietly purring at the touch.
      "It is," she cooed, pressing her head ever so slightly into the warmth behind her. "I never thought a morning could be so beautiful."
      A giggle tickled her ears, as a gentle pair of lips tickled her cheek. "I meant you," came the soft whisper, as her smile grew all the brighter. Gently purring, she carefully turned within the sweet embrace, as her slender arms slid around the warm, inviting waist.
      "I know," she whispered, as a giggle slipped into the air, followed by the gentle sound of touching lips, soon lost in the flutter of birdsong...

Scribble: I really should be sleeping right now...

      The valley had been still that night, as only the gentle rustling of the woody hills above hinted at a breeze. Traces of clouds drifted at the edge of the sky, as stars emerged, little by little, from the ever-darkening aether. Far above the slumbering valley, the twin moons rose above the horizon, mismatched spheres vying for control of the night.
      Moonlight glinting off its slender frame, the stargazer perched between the trees of the hills, nothing more than a sapling hidden among giants. With a hand lightly resting upon a nearby trunk, the silent watcher scanned the night sky, its eyes clicking and whirring with each shift in focus. As a gentle breeze slipped through pliant, verdant limbs, a mechanical sigh slipped into its wake, followed by the sound of footsteps.
      "What brings you up here, Lon?" came a soft, tender voice, with all the warmth of familiar fingertips. Stepping quietly into the moonlight, the young girl casually brushed a stray silver lock from her face, her eyes never leaving the slender figure before her. "Everyone else is already asleep or on standby for the night..."
      "My apologies, Lana," chirped a pleasant, tinny voice, as the stargazer's curious eyes turned toward the newcomer. Helping her into the narrow space beside it, the mechanical watcher placed a steadying hand upon the girl's back, as she climbed into one of the higher branches.
      "I simply wanted to observe something I hadn't before," it continued, returning its gaze to the endless sea of stars above. "Archivists only have the opportunity to store data; rarely do we ever get to collect it ourselves."
      With a smile, the young girl nodded at the slender stargazer beside her, letting one leg dangle playfully from her new-found perch. "I suppose it's something else to see stars and moons for yourself, having only known pure data all your life," she softly said, as another breeze tousled her long locks.
      The quiet sound of a synthetic sigh pulled her eyes back to her companion, its own gaze unbroken.
      "That is true, Lana," came the wistful reply, "yet, what I observe, if my understanding is correct . . . is beauty."
      Silence slipped into the air between them, as an uncertain smile wavered, just before beaming with the brightness of the stars themselves. "Yes," Lana whispered, her eyes drifting back to the endless sea above, "it is."
      Without another word, the young girl nestled into her perch, as the twin moons continued to rise into the sky, filling the valley with gentle, silver light.

Scribble: I've been sick, and someone's been sweet.

      With a heartfelt sigh, she excitedly danced upon the hardwood floors, her stiff, bare toes still aching from their temporary disuse. A radiant smile beaming upon her tired, gentle face, she held the worn and weathered box to her heart, twirling and stepping on air in excitement. The faint ghost of a cough tickled her swollen throat, but the dancer still smiled, unkempt hair flowing freely with each graceful movement.
      I'm the luckiest girl in the world, she thought, looking down at the familiar curls and lines written as a name. Thank you, she whispered in her heart, another sigh slipping past her lips, as thoughts of a warm bed and a familiar pair of arms teased her into another twirl. Closing her eyes, the dancer could only see the bright blue eyes so familiar to her heart, as her cheek instinctively nuzzled rough cardboard flaps, feeling only the softest of skin.
      The sound of a gentle ring tugged at her ear, as the lithe dancer glided, without so much as a stumble, over to the flashing, chirping phone. Still holding the box to her heart, she let slip a giggle, a loose sleeve sliding down her arm.
      "Feeling any better, love?" cooed a gentle voice, tickling her ear with sweetness.
      "I am now," came the raspy whisper, followed by another trickle of laughter. "Thank you..."

Flash Fiction: Something from nothing.

      Static flashed upon the screen, as the sound of gentle breathing faded into the scratchy electronic shriek. Nestling into the gently rising-and-falling chest beneath her head, the young girl squeezed her living pillow tightly in her sleep, just as a crocheted blanket slipped haphazardly from her shoulders. Shivering ever so slightly, she barely felt a pair of arms wrapping firmly, but gently around her, pulling her closer into the soft, warm body below. Stirring but briefly, the dreamer simply nuzzled deeper into her lover's chest, as a pair of lips sleepily pressed against her pillow.
      Just beyond the dusty window pane, the thick clouds of night rolled and flashed, thunderously bellowing for the coming storm. Soon, the gentle sound of rain filled the air, mingling with the static and the swoons of dreams, as smiles slid onto slumbering lips...

Cleaning House: 01

The following pieces have recently been edited:

• "Zombot"


• "Veteran"


• "Millie"


• "Permanence"


• "Morning"

Scribble: This one made me blush.

      Delicate fingers tickled her skin, tracing unseen patterns and gentle shapes, as sunlight danced tenderly across her back. The blankets and pillows, in all their shyness, had slipped away in the night, leaving her wrapped only in the familiar pair of arms, her head resting comfortably on her lover's breast. As her eyelids fluttered open, she could see the blurred shape of a smile, and a pair of half-open eyes gazing into her own.
      "G'morning, sleepyhead," cooed the sweet melody, as a pair of familiar lips soon found their way to her own. Hearing the gentle beating of her lover's heart, the sleepyhead found her lips curling into a smile, as fingertips flowed through her long, disheveled locks with the greatest of ease.
      Still half-asleep, she slipped back to her warmest of pillows, gently kissing the soft skin awaiting her. "How are you so warm?" she purred, nuzzling deeper into her lover's chest, squeezing her arms tightly around her pillow's supple hips.
      "I love you," came the sweet melody, tickling the sleepyhead's ears, "how else am I supposed to be, so wrapped-up in you?"
      A sly little grin slipping onto her face, the sleepyhead squeezed tighter, pulling their bodies even closer. "You're simply too sweet, y'know," the sleepyhead cooed, her lips following unseen patterns across her pillow's skin. "Simply too good to me, my sweetest dream..." she whispered, before words faded away, lost in the sunlight's warm embrace.

Freeform: Permanence.

      Hidden beneath faded tattered robes, the lone observer stood upon the rocky shore, lost amidst the mist and crashing waves. From the darkness under its hood, two unblinking golden eyes peered out over the horizon, as though searching for something in the shapeless gray waters. Yet, with a hollow, tinny sigh, the seeker's watchful head lowered, as thin, metallic fingers wrapped tightly around a weathered staff.
      "Able," came a voice from behind, as the ever-vigilant eyes turned to face the newcomer. Clad in a traveler's cloak, she silently approached her companion, her footfalls barely seeming to touch the sodden ground. "Have your senses taken leave of you again, my old friend?" she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
      "No, my young Tesslyn," came the hollow voice in reply, "not yet, at least." Ancient joints clicked and whirred back to life, as the watcher extended an arm to the young traveler, beckoning her to come near. "Come. There is something you must see through the mists."
      A soft smile upon her face, Tesslyn nodded, stumbling over the jagged stones to her mentor. Looking up at the featureless face beneath the cloak, the young traveler patiently waited for Able to speak, as its unblinking eyes flickered with thought. As the waves crashed into the rocks below, she casually brushed little droplets from her short locks, as another splash rang into the air. Without a word, she kept watching over the emaciated shade beside her, the young traveler's shimmering blue eyes made even brighter by all the endless gray.
      "There!" came Able's sudden declaration, as Tesslyn's eyes followed the now-outstretched finger to some hidden point in the sea. As the mists of morning began to part, the shadow of some great and terrible giant emerged, its body rising from the water like some armored warrior of a forgotten time. With a gasp, the young traveler reached inside a small pouch at her side, quickly retrieving a small spyglass without averting her excited gaze.
      "That's a machine, isn't it?" she asked her mentor, peering through the lens at the new discovery. "Like you and the others, only much bigger!"
      "From a time best forgotten," came Abel's sullen reply, as something much like a sigh rattled his metallic body beneath his robe. "There is a reason, my young Tesslyn, why my kind are still here, while the Giants are not. If you are to be one of the Masters of the Gear, you must learn why that is, and hold it ever dear to your heart."
      "And why is that, Able?" the young traveler asked, lowering her spyglass and turning to her mentor.
      "Why, my child, we are here to create," came a synthetic chuckle, as spindly fingers reached for Tesslyn's arm, pulling back the sleeve to reveal ornate patterns atop her mechanical prosthesis. Smiling at the gesture, she watched as Able again turned to the sea, holding her tiny hand in both its own.
      "And they," Able began, again rattling as though heaving some great sigh from within, "were meant to destroy."
      Touching her own mechanical arm, the young traveler's smile gave way to awe, as she retrieved her spyglass once more to gaze upon the giant.
      There, atop an outstretched claw of what once was a hand, a great nest of birds prepared themselves for the day ahead...

Scribble: "One in a million streets."

      Dancing between the streetlights, her toes barely touching the soft blanket of white below, the dreamer giggled as tiny dancers of white fell gently on her palms. With a smile brighter than any star, she twirled around a lamppost, her silent audience ever vigilant in its stillness, its watchful gaze illuminating her every step. Long, silver locks flowing in the air, the dreamer suddenly paused, smiling, her eyes shining in the light of the moon.
      Where will you be, she thought, as cold, soft fingertips slid stray locks behind her ear, my someone just for me?
      With another giggle, she wrapped her arms tightly around her body, a gentle wind sweetly flicking a stray lock out of place. Her smile ever brighter, a swoon slipped past her lips, the little sigh slipping and dancing in the falling snow.
      And will you, just once, let me be the one to lead? she thought again, giggling, as her toes took to flight once more...

Scribble: For my Millie.

      A playful breeze gently tumbled over the grassy field, as hidden beneath the tallest of blades, a pair of sharp, yellow eyes glinted in the sunlight. Just overhead, a ball of feathers danced carefree in the wind's gentle embrace, swooping closer and closer to the ground with each graceful maneuver.
      Soon, came the thought from beneath the grass, as the little bird came to bob along the ground, each step threatening to spring it back into the air.
      Now! came the predatory thought, as a flash of white and gray sprang out from the grassy den, landing on the spot where, only a split second before, the bird had stood.
      Looking forlornly at the sky, the pair of sharp, yellow eyes followed each graceful movement, sitting in awe of the feathery dancer.
      But I only wanted you to teach me... she thought, as the cheerful song filled the air once more...

Scribble: Battle no more, ye weary traveler.

      Worn, weary, her armor dented and broken, she stood, gazing out over the golden fields before her. Her auburn hair dancing in the breeze, the knight pulled the tatters of her cloak ever tighter, unwilling, or far too afraid, to release her grip on the chipped, streaked blade clenched in her hand. Above her head, wooden branches, yet to be barren of their leaves, creaked with the wind's gentle footsteps, as unseen birds escaped to safer homes.
      In the distance, clouds began to part, as the golden fields shimmered in the coming light. Far off in the distance, the barking of farming dogs ushered-in the new day, heralds to the sounds of sickles and scythes soon to come.
      A single tear rolled down her scarred and sun-kissed cheek. Home, she thought, a weak smile slipping onto her face.
      The battered sword fell to the ground, a sharp metal clang drowned-out by the new day's birth...

Scribble: 'Tis the season.

      Little crystals of white drift through the endless night sky, floating atop the chill currents of winter. Somewhere in the distance, a flash of color bursts into the air, fine lines of light fading into the clouds and snow. Explosions ring out, forever out of place with the sparkling, still ground, so wrapped up in its cold blanket.
      And yet, in that single moment, that same sparkle slips into her eyes, and shines from the brightness of her smile. The fireworks fade, trails of smoke swallowed by the clouds in the sky, but without so much as a sound, the night is made alight once more, as a laugh slips away from her lips to dance between flakes of white. A single gasp, a meeting of lips, and soon, not even the brightest of lights can match the quiet moment on the ground below.
      And somewhere, dreams of blankets to rival even the vast sheet of winter float within hearts, little bursts of light that never fade.