The old oak stood at the edge of the clearing, its branches like gnarled fingers reaching for the sky. Maya had always loved that tree. As a child, she’d spend hours beneath its shade, imagining creatures in the patterns of its bark. She’d carve her initials, M.L., into it, an act of defiance as a teen. The Oak was her…
Tag: writing
Crimson Whispers
Crimson Whispers is my descriptive term for a fictional story about bidding for digital artwork. The image is the work of my talented friend Victor Kates. Inside The Pushkin State Gallery of Fine Arts, Moscow: The gallery was a hush of silent whispers and hand signals as the bidding began on canvas, metal, and stone sculptures. The artistry came from…
My Name Created The Limerick
One day at work, I noticed associates would call me Daryl at times instead of Darnell. I found this, as Mr. Spock would say, “Fascinating” because these people were not new employees. They’ve known me for many years but still, at times would greet me as Daryl, David, or Donnell. A guy I worked with (I’ll call him Frank) noticed…
Fictionista 