Short Stories

Let me, and not the winds I feel swirling around me, nor the rains I pray fall upon my furrowed rows, nor the Sun I pray shine upon my hopeful destiny, be the Master of the Fruit I sow.

When yesterday’s drums beat loudly in your mind, your heart can hardly listen.

I was numb but felt it all, I was distraught, but had never felt so sure.

You will know it in the waves of indescribable energy that pours over you in waves, in the ripples of pure ecstasy as your body trembles in response.

Yes, I love this woman. She leaves her cape at our door. She drops her cross in the foyer. Then, each layer of her falls to the floor as she makes her way to our room. Naked, unafraid, and wanting…

In my pain I blamed them. In my sorrow I cursed them. In my suffering I would rage against them.

But alas we are, the two of us, alone.

“She wears her fear like a dress, allowing it to gently flow through the twirls she makes to life’s subtle sounds.”

Yes, I not only hear voices in my head, but I talk to them. Often.