Through the Snow

When I shudder, it’s not because it’s cold.

It’s summer now. Summer, in this muggy, swamp heat. Here, the sun drools on us, breathing hot ragged breaths over our necks. Dragging us across hell’s palm. Scalding us the moment we step outside.

No, I don’t shudder because it’s cold.

I shudder because it isn’t supposed to be cold.

And yet, here I am. Feeling that hand creep across my back. Tracing the outline of my clothes. Clawing to get into my system. Wanting to dig deeper. To tear into me.

I don’t shudder because it’s cold.

I shudder because it’s apparent:

The cold has been brought to me. Continue reading “Through the Snow”

Wolf of the Winter Wood

I had always thought I liked winter best. The way the cold pricks at your nose, keeps your senses sharp. Covers the ground with white, dusting away what once was in favor of what could be. A clean slate with the death of the past. Of what was.

Yeah, I liked winter best.

In all honesty, I think I still do.


There was one thing I forget to account for.

Winter is so, so cold. Continue reading “Wolf of the Winter Wood”

What the Star Brought

Everything is constant. Moving forward, and never backward. Progressing toward an end that no one can see, that none of us know in any quantifiable extent.

Everything moves on.

Onward, though not always upward.

Unfortunately, for me.

Not always upward. Continue reading “What the Star Brought”

Summer Soul

Frost. Snow. Ice.

Staples of winter.

When the wind bites, and the trees shudder, winter has set in. It isn’t all bad, winter is a time of rest. As it should be. One requires rest before they can obtain renewal.


Rest is not permanent. It is the task, but not the goal.


That is the goal.

Warmth stretching your muscles, soothing your bones. A time for heat to seep in, keep your blood pumping. Keep you alive. Heat to bring warmth, to bring light.

Summer to soothe your soul.

That’s the goal.

A place of renewal.

That’s the goal. Continue reading “Summer Soul”

Fierce Heart

They say that you should watch out for love, because it’s fierce. Strong. Something unbreakable. Unbound. Love has no stopping point, it simply starts and goes.

And goes, and goes.

Love is like a wildfire. Once it breaks out, it makes its mark. Gathers everything into itself. It burns, and sustains, and moves. Aggressive, and fierce. Unending. Unyielding. A fire does not wish to be extinguished.

So be careful of love.

That’s what I’ve always heard.

Because fire is beautiful, and warm, but it is also fierce.

So fierce.

And yet…

I find that the fiercest things are the most beautiful. The things I’m drawn to.

Things like you. Continue reading “Fierce Heart”

Cold Seas

Not a lot of people realize just how dark the sea is at night.

It’s extremely dark.

Night rolls in, oppressing the horizon line. You look out, wondering where the ocean ends and the sky begins. The stars glitz in the distance, lights that are long since gone. A small condolence for the onslaught of blinding night. A tiny indicator, for those who are in the know.

The northern stars blinks.

And I blink back.

The night is dark.

The ocean still roars.

And I’m still blind. Continue reading “Cold Seas”

Dragon’s Might

What’s stronger?

I don’t know how to describe the question. How it takes shape in my mind. All I know is that it envelopes. Folds over and over and over, creating the ridges of my mind. Turning endlessly.

What’s stronger?

I’ve seen things man.

Seen things.

I’ve seen waves crashing against rocks. I’ve seen bullets hitting walls. I’ve seen fists hitting flesh.

I’ve seen things that are strong.

And I’ve seen things that are stronger.

Bulls fighting cars. Men fighting women. Evil battling against good.

I’ve seen them.

I’ve seen them all.

And when I see these things, I collect them in my mind. Mark them down. Car beats bull. Good beats evil. Mom beats angry, teenage-angst behavior of son. The winners are clear, and concise, and each one is not strong because they are full of muscle or full of anger or full of pride.

They’re strong because…


I don’t know.

Guess that’s why the question exists.

Am I right? Continue reading “Dragon’s Might”

Lion Man–Part 2

A continuation of yesterday’s story. You can probably pick it up here if you’d like, but yesterday’s will give you a good amount of context first.

On the fourth day that the lion man, Tau, was at my farm, it finally happened.

The weather set in.

When I woke, I was not greeted by sunlight. By rays of a morning in the full throes of its glory, but instead, by darkness.


Bolts of light flashing, signifying the lightning.

The storm had finally come. Continue reading “Lion Man–Part 2”

Lion Man–Part 1

When the door opened, I was surprised. Not because there was company, though that was quite a shock. What with living this far out of town, I never received guests.

There are other reasons—reasons that revolved around my father’s decisions more so than my own—but that’s the one I use to calm myself when I’m alone at night.

Anyhow, I heard the knock, opened the door, and was surprised.

Before me stood a man.

A giant man.

A man wrapped with so much muscle someone might claim him a god. The scars that adorned his muscle would’ve certainly backed that up.

His skin seemed to hold evidence that the muscle was not all talk. That it was backed by fist, and strength, and blood. But that wasn’t even the most surprising thing about him. About this giant, strong man, showing up at my door in the middle of the country side right at dusk.

It was the lion’s skin.

He wore what was, unmistakably, garb made from lion’s skins.

And when he saw me, this giant beast of a man, he bowed a bit. Before I could react, he spoke.

A strange accent coated his words, coaxed them out with a lilt.

He said, “Ma’am, I am a traveler. I am new to this part of the country, and I have no family or friends to speak of. I am knocking on your door because I am in desperate need of a place to stay before the weather sets in. If you wouldn’t mind.”

I stared at him a moment more.

Stared at his empty hands. His scars. His bulk and height. His clothes made from the king of beasts. From the lord of the jungle.

He was strange, for sure, but…

“If you’re going to stay here, you’ll have to work for it.”

When he came out of his bow, he looked solemn. He nodded.

“Aye. I can do that.”

Continue reading “Lion Man–Part 1”