Gallery
Literature
Tao, Ch 21: France
Friday, June 20, 2009
“My mom was a whore.” The words rolled naturally through a mess of blonde hair, mussed about and matted over forehead and across lips, as naturally as a pig rolling in mud. Sandy pulled herself closer to Cory, pressing bare breasts into his arm, and tickled his shoulder with pink lips. “We found out at high school orientation. My brother was a senior and I was a freshman — he was held back a year and I’d jumped forward, so we were at the same school. I was terrified. Big new school, new teachers and everything, so Drew insisted that my mom come with us. She… she was reluctant,
All
55 deviations
Literature
Tao, Ch 21: France
Friday, June 20, 2009
“My mom was a whore.” The words rolled naturally through a mess of blonde hair, mussed about and matted over forehead and across lips, as naturally as a pig rolling in mud. Sandy pulled herself closer to Cory, pressing bare breasts into his arm, and tickled his shoulder with pink lips. “We found out at high school orientation. My brother was a senior and I was a freshman — he was held back a year and I’d jumped forward, so we were at the same school. I was terrified. Big new school, new teachers and everything, so Drew insisted that my mom come with us. She… she was reluctant,
Featured
14 deviations
Literature
Tao, Ch 21: France
Friday, June 20, 2009
“My mom was a whore.” The words rolled naturally through a mess of blonde hair, mussed about and matted over forehead and across lips, as naturally as a pig rolling in mud. Sandy pulled herself closer to Cory, pressing bare breasts into his arm, and tickled his shoulder with pink lips. “We found out at high school orientation. My brother was a senior and I was a freshman — he was held back a year and I’d jumped forward, so we were at the same school. I was terrified. Big new school, new teachers and everything, so Drew insisted that my mom come with us. She… she was reluctant,
Tao
30 deviations
Literature
Chance, Ch 3: Prayer for the Dying
3. Prayer for the Dying
“Come on, Emi,” Frank encouraged. “You’re gonna be fine.” Blood seeped through Frank’s white shirt, pressed firmly against the gaping hole in Emi’s neck. “Stay with me.” It slicked his fingers and stained his pants. “Stay with our baby, Emi.” Frank held the mother of his child against his blood-soaked stomach, rocking her gently as he begged her to hold on.
“Frank,” she whispered, “promise me.”
“I’ll promise you anything, Emi. Just don’t talk. Ambu—
“Frank.” Her vo
Chance
4 deviations
Literature
Echo: Death - Epilogue
Death sprawled across Cushing’s desk like a cheap hooker on the latest designer drug. She lay spread eagle across three holographic screens risen from a smooth glass grave, a tableau of blood, skin, genetic coding and brain patterns for the doctor to puzzle. The dead hooker was his own project, Chaos Wet OMR, and her drug, a bullet to the head. In one corner of the displays, a video looped endlessly. Chaos Wet walked into the hall, stopped, turned and mumbled at the semi-reflective stainless steel wall, then shot herself.
Death has a certain finality to it that Chaos Wet had always eluded. The end is supposed to be the end, not ju
Echo
8 deviations
Literature
Dead August Fog
The fog rolled in early. It was thick, like a woolen blanket pulled over the sleepy town’s collective heads, and like a woolen blanket in the deadest heat of August, you couldn’t see six inches through it. The town wasn’t ready.
Becky was the first to venture outside her house. She heard a sound like a lead pipe dragged along the street. Skrrrrt. Skrrrrt. Skrrrrt. Or maybe it was screaming Becky heard. She opened her door and stepped into the heady rolls of moisture. Breathed it in. She felt it blacken her lungs and when she coughed, dry ash caked lips wet with blood and thick, woolen fog.
Skrrrrt. Skrrrrt.
Miscellaneous Literature
6 deviations
Photomanipulations
2 deviations
Commissioned Art
3 deviations
Literature
Untitled, 1992
October 1992. It was an influential blip in my personal development and anecdotal proof that sometimes, the smallest things can have a great long-lasting effect. I had written a very small story for an English assignment in school. Five paragraphs, nine sentences and as much resentment as my fourteen-year-old hands could scribble without getting in trouble were handed in. And, as with so many other pieces I wrote in high school, what I wrote was not what the teacher asked:
The first time I saw a bug, I saw a really big bug. My daddy said, "What a big bug you found."
I said, "My, that's
omg.so.emo
7 deviations
Literature
Inside Echo, a Non-Fatal Spoiler
Inside Echo, a Non-Fatal SpoilerAnagrams and Acronyms
Thomas Crowe = Chaos Wet OMR = Trace W.M. SohoSylph = Synthete Lyfe PhylosophyNaiad = NeoNaturalists Intelligence and DefenseThomas Crowe
Narrative: Third person, past tense, as if being reviewed by an impartial narratorRoad imagery transforms from Sylph → Naiad → Fatal DeathAhead/behind is cyclical in beginning and end of Sylph and NaiadCycle broken in Fatal DeathIn Sylph and Naiad, "ahead" is described in degrees of nothing; metaphor of the protagonist's imminent deathIn both, the "behind" is coming back to himIn Fatal Death, the road, the before and the behind come togetherS
Scraps
19 deviations
Echo8