Home/Blog

Blog Post #69: Seventeen, Again

Jaelyn peeked into a classroom door window, saw Mrs. Mayor writing on a chalkboard, and, bit-by-bit, turned a doorknob. She

Maye gazed through mist and throughout a pond. No water laid in it, only sticks which stood shoulder high. She

Ethan marched around a stalagmite and through a bat cloud to a cave opening and peered into trees. Vines strangled

Dilston folded a newspaper, carried an empty plate to a sink, and snatched-up a suit coat and then ambled to

G’ Labor Day Monday! Hope all’s tremendous! As of late, I’ve experimented with literary noir, a crime-fiction subgenre which features