Prose

the muse is dead.

as if I held her hand, full of regret. A weeping willow rejects me
breathing in my cigarettes,
death’s in the traveler
being left alone in Italy; from the garden,
all bodied, all that red and bleak

“The Obsession” (Chapter 4 via WebNovel).

Oktavia adjusted her suit and headgear of the rival country’s soldiers—their men. The glass could only reflect the moonlight as she annexed through the Castle of Ayothis. The sharp gladius in her hand was angled toward the brumal midnight. Her heart fluttered at it.

Use or be of use.

Shameless self promo for my “The Obsession” short chapter series. It’ll no longer be on Kindle Vella, but rather WebNovel due to an episode being blocked, messing up the order/formatting of the chapters.

Chapter Three of The Obsession.

“But, you’re neglecting to tell me everything. I know that, Mischa. What have you been hiding from me?”

She looked almost sad as she put their dishes in the sink. ‘Your memories, Oktavia. That’s what I’m hiding.’

“Mischa? Where are you going? Don’t walk away from me.”

My reply, Lucy.

Originally posted on mtaggartwriter:
and also the men who are too large, walking. hurting, toward the storeand the women who sit in their cars, windows nearly closed, smokeeverywhere and they see me looking at you, in my phone, while I’mnone…

Band Rehearsal Chronicles #1.

I lost myself in the music—I often did, just like when my guitar strap fell off while in the middle of a song we were playing once. I didn’t stop a beat as I got down on my knees to keep playing.