Devil’s Well

I’m not a people person. Everyone in this desolate wasteland of a town knows it. It’s glaringly obvious. Like an old oak standing alone in the desert. This town is small enough that they all know I’m gruff. Grumpy, even. A little surly. But, that’s only because I don’t interact with people much. I’m harmless really, but still.

Yeah, I’m not a people person.

But, who can blame me?

When this is the price to be paid for interacting with others…

If this is what comes attached with people…

Why would I be a people person? Continue reading “Devil’s Well”

Gentle Darkness, Soft Light

The ghost breathes. A wind that chills me. Turns the temperature down.

Relieves me.


And here I was, wandering about clueless.

Thinking that I was alone. Continue reading “Gentle Darkness, Soft Light”


There is a well within us.

And it is full.

Full of the things we love, the people we love. They make the waters we draw from. Give us life when we thirst. That water fills us.

And it fills others.

When the water is depleted—when we lose a source for our well—there is a dip. A brief period of time in which our well is not as full. We feel the loss. Draw carefully from the well, and draw only when we need to. It is not a drought, but our minds and hearts tell us it is close enough. And yet, after some time, the well is full again.

Because we get filled.

Over and over again.

Our sources do not leave us empty. Do not deplete us. They share the water with us, and we share it with them.

Because they exist, we never run dry.

But, of course, that only applies so long as they exist.

Where does the well get water if there isn’t anyone to fill it?

Where do we get water, if our wells are empty?


Where indeed. Continue reading “Thirst”

A Monster Remembers

Memories are a hazy thing. I’ve heard it said that, by remembering something, you’re making it untrue. With every recounting of a tale, the story becomes more story, and less of what actually happened. And I don’t mean that we’re all liars and that’s how I know. Scientifically, that’s what happens.

Or so I’ve heard.

I wouldn’t actually know.

Not that it matters.

I can’t remember anything.


There is a start, and a stop. A place where my memories definitively begin, and a place where they end. There’s no “maybe this happened a long time ago” for me. There is a line, and that line is where I started.

Right in the middle.

People get told all the time that they’re a mistake. It’s a common dis.


For me?

That is exactly the truth. Continue reading “A Monster Remembers”



It drenches this land.

This land is a desert. A wasteland. Desolation drowns this dry place, soaking its way into the veins of the people. Into the very fabric of their minds. Of their being.


They starve for water. Long for something to hydrate them. To bring them life. To renew their soils. To give them something to cling to, if only for a moment.

And I will give it to them.

Continue reading “Bone-dry”

Direction From a Fox

There is only one thing worse than being lost in the woods. And that one thing is:

Having a fox guide you.


Today wasn’t going so well. Continue reading “Direction From a Fox”

Through the Dust

There’s nothing out there.

I know it. And I have to live with it, every day.

There’s nothing out there.

The landscape is dry, cracked. Everything is dead almost. Only the most vicious of beasts adapted. Only the most obscure life forms survived.

Including myself.

I look over the emptiness. Over the sand and the dust and the sun, crisping the surface of this world, and I know it.

There’s nothing out there.

But still.

I don’t stop walking. Continue reading “Through the Dust”

A Tale from The Wilderness

“Don’t step there.”

My foot stops midair and switches its landing point. “Okay. Can I ask why?”

“Because you’ll fall into the swamp.”

Something my guide said earlier comes to mind. “And… I’ll get eaten by leeches?”

Pleased that I guessed correctly, she smiles and says, “Exactly.”

As if traversing through a swamp to find my Lost One isn’t stressful enough, the swamp just happens to be full of poisonous creatures, ridiculous predators, and leeches.

And now?

Stepping in the wrong place can get me killed.

Awesome. Continue reading “A Tale from The Wilderness”

A Dream of Jungles

Going, and going, and going…

I know what I was made for.

Sitting still, dormant, living in the town you were born. That isn’t me. It never was, and it won’t ever be the person I’ll become.

Because I want more.

I hunger for more.

Not that there’s anything particularly wrong with this town. Or the people. In fact, I don’t mind it here.

But this place doesn’t have it.

Don’t ask me what “it” is. I just know it isn’t here.

From here, I’ll be going.

And I can’t stand the idea of anything stopping me. Continue reading “A Dream of Jungles”