I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer, and Vietnam Vet, Richard Turton. The Eagle Cried The acrid smell of cordite
Month: May 2021
Short Story Sunday: The Hunter
The Hunter “We pumped quite a bit of blood out of your stomach. We’re not sure where it came from.” She heard the words but
A Faint Smile
He turned to her A faint smile With depth And sharpness Yet when he turned It was as if He was only An image In
Quiz Time: What kind of friend are you (even if you’re a Vampire)
Now that things are opening up again, kind of sort of, we can now socialize a little bit more than we have for the past
You can’t go back.
When I was a child it seemed like someone was always touring around with a jar claiming to contain the head of Joaquin Murietta. People
Short Story Sunday: For Sale
The Real Estate agent had left. The house was in great shape for a 95 year old structure. The decorating was impeccable so no extra
Vampire Maman 