Five years on...

     There may be life in this old place yet.

(Semi-regular updates coming soon . . . ?)

I forgot to mention...

New digs.

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..."