There are words trapped under tongues

held prisoner behind clenched teeth and pursed lips. 

There are words as fingerprints,

tattooed into the flesh they brush against.

There are words hidden within others,

meanings needing teased out like shy lovers.

There are words that fall from mouths

to land amongst deaf ears.

There are words with which to heal,

and words with…

The tickled ivory produces luscious notes,

sultry sounds that caress the soul.

A bass thrums,

the heartbeat of the song,

carrying life through the room 

while the instruments vibrate in time with you.

Oh jazz,

oh soulful music of the easy nights.

Snare drums trapping my ears,

the bass

a foundation to my memory.

Oh jazz,

you know me all too well.

Nidhogg growled slowly in its sleep, stretching languidly through the main chamber of the underground den it inhabited. Massive in size, the dragon stirred fitfully, shaking the vast root system above it. Those vibrations traveled up through the roots, and into the trunk of the great ash tree, Yggdrasil. Up from the trunk, they shook the branches wildly, causing the nine realms nestled within to…

It wasn’t very cold, and certainly not cold enough to snow. Yet Jess found herself standing  on the balcony of her apartment, marveling at the soft white flakes falling from the sky. Catching a few on her tongue, Jess delighted in feeling the cold spot melt away. It was an odd, but great June day. Behind her, the radio crackled to life. “Please excuse the intermittent snow storms. NOAA’s weather…

It was all coming together. Soon the lead detective on the case would put the final pieces together, and his grand design would be revealed. Soon he would be famous, and then he’d get his final, true revenge. Beyond all those who said he was nothing, worthless. He would make the world see, would make them truly understand what he was capable of. He just needed to detectives to find one more…

It swung there, gazing at him. It’s lifeless eyes and slack jawed expression giving nothing away of what it was thinking. This was the third night the disembodied head had visited George, floating into the room at three a.m. It would often just attach itself to the houseplant hanging form the hook in the ceiling, slowly swaying back and forth. It would do this until almost four, then it would…

I’m using a previous story for this one. See my post Roisin for this one.

He smelled the man before he saw him. The putrid stench wafted through the parking garage on the hot August wind. Odin bellycrawled under the nearest broke down car, and waited. Soon the man came into view, shuffling slowly towards some unknown destination, his left foot dragging behind him. Odin whined a little to himself. The people had gone feral, killing and eating each other for weeks now.…

The backhoe broke the ground on the new bypass project, formally beginning the new renovation that would put Shelbyville on the map. Foreman Reynolds rolled the unlit cigar around in his lips, thinking about how to best allocate his workers in the tasks for the day. He was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of a crowd over by the backhoe. Several of the workers were clustered around the…

“Freeze! Hands where I can see them!” Jeremiah had tracked the fugitive for days, over rough terrain in the wilderness of northern Louisiana. Here in the moonlit forest east of Shreveport, he had finally caught up to his quarry. The man the newspapers called “The Creole Killer” turned to face Jeremiah, a smile on his face and the light of long dead stars reflected in his eyes. “You’re in over…

The moon hung high in the cool evening over the lake. It’s light cast long shadows through the trees, and sparkled on the unnaturally still waters. Billy chugged the last of his beer and tossed the can casually into the shallows near where he sat. He often came to the lakeside to think, though this was the first time he had stayed so late. A faint sound caught Billy’s ears as he rose to leave. A…

Jim dredged the ancient lake, tirelessly maneuvering his beat up old tugboat back and forth over the still waters. The city was paying him good money to clean all the old trash and what not that had accumulated over the years since the lakefront had shut down after that incident with the magician. A sense of workman’s pride propelled Jim to pull up one more load before sundown. The wench reeled…

The ring of light grew dimmer in his vision, blurred by the silt and debris kicked up by his struggling. His lungs burned as he fought against his bonds, trying desperately to free himself from the tightly wrapped chains and straight jacket. The hole in the ice shrank as he continued to sink, and his last thoughts were of how he might not be the worlds best escape artist after all.

I think about death a lot lately. Not just existentially, but  also realistically. It’s a side effect of being chronically ill and not having a diagnosis. You’re never absolutely sure what the next hour, day, or week holds. Now, that’s true of everyone, but knowing something is wrong is a sharper contrast. It’s like the difference between being afraid someone is in your house, and knowing someone…