“No? I’m not surprised. His story was left out of the canon of the world religions. It taught the wrong lesson for the priests, you see. “Salamongue was a minor angel who, in the great conflagration, spoke against patience and understanding, choosing instead to condemn his rebellious brethren with fire and damnation for daring to question the divine. Not openly of course. He spoke only … Continue reading Do you know the story of Salamongue Greymouth, Waspkeeper of Hell?
I don’t know that I believed in magic. But I believed there were people who did, enough to kill for it. I didn’t know what was happening then. In fact, my working theory turned out to be not even close. But a few things seemed obvious enough, like why my best friend was having an affair with my boss. The details always get messy, but … Continue reading It seemed a shame to break the spell
They had a tarot deck alright, but it wasn’t what I expected. It came with a free app download. I guess there really is an app for everything. I bought it and went to a cafe and waited for my quarry to make an appearance. While the app was downloading, I unwrapped the deck from the plastic. There was a little instruction manual folded at … Continue reading The Three of Swords
I held up the book. “I’m so sorry. I think my friend stole this the other day.” He scowled. His face was so old, his wrinkles magnified every expression. “Yes. She did.” He had a faint European accent. “I’d like to pay for it, if that’s okay.” He walked over to a wood phone stand at the back of the room, next to the last … Continue reading A spell you can touch
He stopped by work a few times. Chatted me up. I thought he was testing the water, seeing if we had the same chemistry face-to-face as we did sending messages back and forth. It wasn’t until later that I got the text. YOU FREE TONIGHT? UM. THINK SO. WHY? DINNER? I squealed like a little girl. I’m not proud. SURE MEET AT CRAM’S? 8-ISH? SOUNDS … Continue reading The Long Vacant Cupboard
I could see her from the end of the block. She was sitting on the sidewalk under the yellow-orange street lamp, next to a pile of white rubbish bags from the nail salon next door. There was something white sticking from her mouth, bigger than a cigarette. A thermometer maybe. And she was holding an ice pack over her eye. It was fresh, which meant … Continue reading A Terror and an Aphrodisiac
A couple times now I’ve been asked how I handle it, most recently yesterday. This is my answer. I don’t think there’s a thing called Writer’s Block. What we call Writer’s Block is a collection of many different psychological faults and phenomena, some real, some imagined, so don’t fall for it. In my experience, there’s a big problem and a little problem hidden in there. The … Continue reading Writer’s Block