She is no longer an enigma to me. I have traveled her mother-of-pearl skin. I have swum in her inscrutable sea. A grief, and a pleasure, to drown in those depths. This post was written in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge weekend prompt: Write anything you want, in whichever form you please, so long as your response is … Continue reading Fathoms
"You're late, but I won't hold it against you." Martin looked the woman up and down, unimpressed. He held out one hand, not bothering to wipe it off, and waited. This was important. Jean ignored the greeting and the smirk, but could not avoid the handshake, sharp edges pressing into her palm. His cologne was too … Continue reading Turncoat, Target, Trigger
Seonid was not an idiot. She knew what happened to a body subjected daily to the treacherous sweetness of her particular vice, the heady, careening slide into anonymity. She knew what it meant when the night tremors and sweats came earlier each day. She was no three-penny fool, mewling and lurking at the edges of alleys, hoping to … Continue reading No Three-penny Fool
Christine Hanolsy 