Poem: Lounge

On the stage under hot lights
Sits the old grand piano
Older than her great grandparents
Who would’ve never made it in the door
On the club where she stands now
Leaning against old grand
Hair falling down to her shoulders
Body hugged in a cardinal red dress
Her lungs filling with whispy smoke
With her red lips making love
To the mesh of the microphone

Short Story: Betrayal

I thought he was my friend.

As a scientist I should know better than make assumptions. Especially about someone who was willing to grave rob for meager wages.

The wages were a gratuity, his real earnings was the knowledge of human anatomy and galvanism. Now I didn’t always treat him the best, but science is careful work, he needed to learn how to use those meaty fingers of his and shuffling gait in away that wouldn’t run our experiment.

Our experiment. I had considered him my apprentice. The only person privy to my work. The only person who would share my success. The only person other who would be part of being of an amazing discovery.

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started