She wakes up in the dark. Without a name, with the thing above waiting to be woken by her eventual movement. Keeping her company, before she is no more.
Bedazzled: A Warm-up with Coral Walls By Ian Cooke-Tapia as ouitlined by SlapHop Continued from A Prologue with an Electric Hum The fluffy, four-legged sausage yipped happily as it snuggled its nose against her gloved [...]
K convinces her two friends to visit a brand new leisure centre that is the talk of the town. With its decorated walls and disciplines some of them have always dreamed of trying, this place has more on offer than eye-catching designs on the walls and pretty women in skin-tight outfits that one can’t help but stare at too long... The classes here are designed to not just improve your body, but your entire way of seeing the world.
Smoke filled his lungs nicely. The cemetery was quiet. The tree behind him kept staring at his back. His meds were still on the table back home. The tree is coughing. The smoke burns. The tree knows.
A snippet of the first draft of Coyote Crosses the Continent, an allegorical tale of an all-knowing Coyote deciding to travel south to places unknown.
A coupe are playing with each other's perceptions. With their minds and senses, helping each other relax and happily fall into a state of loving trance.
Even nameless graves deserve to listen to music. Deserve respect and remembrance, however fractured. A blind woman brings a moment of peace, to a place of death and darkness.
On a very cold day, J.C. gets called in to the old windmill where the local nutjob has chained himself to the windmill blades in an attempt to understand Don Quijote.