Pawn On felt feet he glided across a checkered battlefield and noticed he was alone. No knights clashing against bishop, no battle cry of gathering forces to bolster courage. Just the groan of a dying battlefield. He slid past fallen banners and crumbling castles. He came to his fallen king and dropped to an obsidian… Continue reading Lost Confessions: Guardian
Tag: Artist
Lost Confessions: The Workshop
This is an awesome story! Have you ever known beyond your smallest doubt that you were exactly where you were meant to be, or doing the thing you were supposed to be doing? That is the story I am going to tell you now. I wrote a book. It is a decent book but it… Continue reading Lost Confessions: The Workshop
Lost Confessions: Living Room 5
You’re not going to fucking believe this. Shit I don’t know if I do. I wasn’t going to blog about this at all, but I figured I had already drawn you in with the first few, so I might as well put out the final entry on this subject. After this one, I am done… Continue reading Lost Confessions: Living Room 5
Lost Confessions: Scratch, Part 3
At the very end of my senior year, I was working my shift at Pizza Hut when my short, neurotic manager spun me around. Business was booming and pizza was flying everywhere. “You have visitors. Two girls. Big surprise. You have two minutes and I need you back here.” She buzzed away. I looked up… Continue reading Lost Confessions: Scratch, Part 3
Lost Confessions: Scratch, Part 1
In seventh grade I was pretty much a joke. I had no friends. I was wildly unpopular. I was laughed at, I was threatened, I was tortured. At school my sister met a girl named T, from across the room they became best friends. T was a headbanger. She dressed like a headbanger. She walked… Continue reading Lost Confessions: Scratch, Part 1
Lost Confessions: Light
He would not have her while I breathed. He was a vile poison and she was life itself. What do I say about my love, my partner, my sacred? How do I make you see her as I do? Well, I can’t. I will fail you if you try to look through my eyes. But… Continue reading Lost Confessions: Light
Lost Confessions: Rising Winds
There is something happening in my head and I have to write. I have a lot of work to do, so I might be doing that, but that is grunt work. Run on sentences and passive voice weeding. Collapse this character. Change this point of view. But our fucking minds are flaming and the surrounding… Continue reading Lost Confessions: Rising Winds
