carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: June 2013
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2013_06_01_archive.html
The taste and hint of the arising situation beckoned at the horizon like a low cloud. A wounded Titan of attitude, with the fortitude of a newborn prince. I smacked my hands together, knowing the day should bring. New possibilities, but a storm brewed at the fraying edge, a coffee that had stood too long. The terrible ring of a plastic, beige motel room phone. My face was a landslide of emotions as words stung like killer bees. A swarm of change awaited beyond the peeling blue-gray door. The "mind-fog" h...
carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: September 2012
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2012_09_01_archive.html
I’m going to die soon. Those words burst into life on my lips as I jolted out of a deep and melodic sleep. Where had that come from? So that’s it, isn’t it? The insistence in my mind to hurryhurryhurryhurry—be something—accomplish everything that I can, all the while a giant monolith’s heartbeat thrums at a slow plod, marking off my remaining days. Maybe months. Could I at least hope for years? What could I do with this new-found knowledge? This insight into the unseen? Would anyone even believe me?
carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: May 2014
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2014_05_01_archive.html
I usually live in a little comfortable bubble. But I watch social media as a means of entertainment/education/horrification/etc. One particular topic that has come up is the hashtag #yesallwomen. She was asking for it.look at those hot pants. Damn I just wanna stick my. I'll leave off right there. I've seen more than a few big-shot name responses to the issue t hat has somehow popped up out of nowhere. I'm sorry, but what? Is guilty. The ones who have fought out against it in the past have been label...
carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: October 2012
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2012_10_01_archive.html
Introducing Annice Sands - Erotic Author. I've been writing short stories for some time, as my oldest readers know. Throughout that time, I've written all sorts of genres and dabbled in one that continues to elude my horrific sensibility. As fellow writers know, erotica is blossoming and lunging forward in the race for the top-read genre and I am not one to discount the merits of a good, sexy story. Therefore, I decided to join in. Don't laugh! In the erotic world, I'm vaguely known as Annice Sands.
carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: April 2014
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2014_04_01_archive.html
Let's celebrate. Revel in the joy that we have life and people in that life. Let's appreciate what we do have, not dwell on the things we cannot get. Let's know our limits and be kind to ourselves. Let's make a story. Our story. The one that always ends up the same way, just with different plots. Let's use the plot twists to our advantage. Let's live that life. Introducing Icy Sedgwick and The Necromancer's Apprentice. Quite excited to see that The Necromancer's Apprentice. And she’s this exception...
carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: The Liar #Fridayflash
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2014/01/the-liar-fridayflash.html
That sure as hell wasn't five minutes. What do you mean? No I won't accept that answer. You're out of your fucking mind. Yeah, I heard you and no, I don't care. I won't. I can't. Please? I'd donate vital organs at this point if you would. No, really. I would. I swear! You're breaking my heart here. See? It's pouring out on the floor in some kind of gelatinous mutiny. There are pirates in those sticky red waters. Stop it. Enough already. You've ruined my entire day with your screeching. I'll get up. Janua...
carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: October 2013
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2013_10_01_archive.html
I'm packing shells of tolerance with ribbons of black wine. Outside, three peeps from the mockingbird that doesn't know what manners are. I wait for my day to turn light. The sun rises like a memory, slow and dazzling- unmistakable in its meaning. There's a cold undercurrent to the tropical breeze before it's shredded by the ceiling fan. The TV drones to itself and I understand why. There are no open ears. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). All of sudden, I found myself in love with the world. Just My Blood Type.
carrieclevengerstories.com
Mindspeak: Valentine's Day came late
http://www.carrieclevengerstories.com/2014/02/valentines-day-came-late.html
Valentine's Day came late. Luke knows me. He really, really. Knows me. So, he's been working on this for some time and tonight, it was finished. Getting art from him makes me all gushy and girly, so here was my custom valentine, complete with cephalopod, anatomical heart, and of course his sweet whisper of nothing emblazoned across. Along with that, I received a black diamond. A. Black. Diamond. And flowers. [eyeballs husband]. Okay, I'll bite. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.
gloomcupboard.com
Prose #113 | Gloom Cupboard
https://gloomcupboard.com/2010/01/03/prose-113
Close your eyes, reach inside…. Laquo; Poetry #113. January 3, 2010 by Allie. Welcome to a new year of fabulous fiction. Issue 113 brings you ghosts, unusual beings and haunting memories. Kick up your feet and let the words of Rizzy Rodham, Leigha Butler, Michael Brown, Lonnie James, and Jeanette Cheezum take you somewhere special. Be sure to make another trip back here for seconds on this issue’s Editor’s Pick for “Must Read Twice” by Michael Brown. And then she wasn’t. At my mother’s house? He couldn&#...
disenthrallme.wordpress.com
Haber/Whiteley | disenthralled
https://disenthrallme.wordpress.com/2010/05/23/haberwhiteley
May 23, 2010 – 7:37 am. Art by IRA JOEL HABER. Words by PETRA WHITELEY. The dialogue of hardened hands. Is spoken through the cracks in skin,. The body is the night of glass with horizons sharpening. The dialogue of darkened eyes. Is stillness of afternoons, the heavy sound of sun,. Hanging from dried mouth – the nails of mind, weighing. Time’s weighing down the drumming. Heart’s monologue and its own answers of blood. In the fast, tight fist of light and its prolonged suffocating absence. I sit on the b...
