yliaD eht fo tseB oMirWoNaNNaNoWriMo Best of the Daily

     The same momentary silence occurred, then the taps, a different sequence this time.  Terra noticed Ingrid’s frightened expression, but before she could question it, Ingrid spoke in a lower pitched voice into the microphone.  “Maintenance channel.  Requesting supplies in segment K, Northern Ed Complex Corridor-West.”  Speechless, Terra watched as the Maiden continued to stare at the console.  There was an even longer pause then before, then static, then another pause.  Participant-2014-Square-ButtonThe words that issued from the speaker moments later made goose bumps bristle the hairs on the back of Terra’s neck. 

“Abort.  They know.”  More static, followed by a click, and the call ended.  Ingrid’s head, weighted down by the heavy dose of fear and uncertainty that had just been transmitted, lowered in defeat until her forehead was propped on the corridor wall.


Tune in for quick reads of the best (or least despicable) selections from the previous day’s word count, by virtue of my daily writing regimen for the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).

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NaNoWriMo Best of the Daily (10)

     Maiden Abbot was true to her word and had stood like a raptdactyl ready to dive into a dead carcass, overseeing Terra’s washing of the floor, her shoes, and gathering of her soiled garments.  Pointing to the portal, the furious woman had ordered her to her quarters after confiscating her dinner token.  Terra wasn’t upset over that punishment, since she couldn’t have eaten a bite anyway.  She stood in her child sized zero-gravity mist chamber and let the crystallized water droplets moisten and exfoliate her skin.  Participant-2014-Square-ButtonIn her grief, she stood there so long that the operating system engaged the helpdesk, who asked if she was in need of assistance.  Pressing the “bake button,” as most Ancestrians referred to the radiant ionizer that dried any residual moistness remaining after a wash cycle, she’d donned a robe and curled up in her bunk.  There she’d remained, fetal position, until the following morning when the alarm woke her, and she lifted her wet face from the pillow.


Tune in for quick reads of the best (or least despicable) selections from the previous day’s word count, by virtue of my daily writing regimen for the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).

NaNoWriMo Best of the Daily (9)

Participant-2014-Square-Button     Terra opened her eyes instinctively, but saw only the byzantium pool still holding her body lithe and graceful.  She closed them again and remembered the lighted strings that had formed chords as their ends became absorbed into her body.  But they were not here now, at least she did not see them – with her eyes.  She focused on her thoughts and feelings, her history and experience.


Tune in for quick reads of the best (or least despicable) selections from the previous day’s word count, by virtue of my daily writing regimen for the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).

Tea Time with Idaho Indians

This past week I had tea over at the independently owned grocery store.  Not the “heat your water and throw your tea bag in there” kind of tea.  I had the “British Empire leaves India but the tradition still remains” kind of tea.  My new friends Ekaraj and Mishti, the husband and wife that own the place, had extended an open invitation to the store at 4pm, just about any day, when they host tea time. Continue reading

nowhere is not always insignificant

we talked and in our ramblings 
    got nowhere
i felt

(not that lack of feeling meaning
        means that lack 
    of significance has taken place)

our romantic phone drippings
    were sincere 
and true

(oh, if only i could feel her, 
        heat and breath
moist and electric)

and i know talk can sometimes be
        just that
circumstances dealt

(and maybe "nowhere" is
        just a mirage)

mysteriously, curiously, physically, 
        emotionally, intellectually, inquisitively …
all i know is i miss her.

Alcedo atthis -water -splash-8

Spell (Apr 1999)

walk with me for a spell
let’s head off down the seawall
tell me all you have to tell
let’s share things great and small

give me a call
ring my phone
i won’t fall
and be left alone

we are friends
that’s where it ends
no sob stories ahead of us
we’re better than that, just
believe me

hold my hand as we walk
smile at me when we talk
be close to my true
let me be close to you
without going through the motions
of building lifetime devotions

we can need without needing
we can share without heeding
perceptions of what we are together
or whether we’ll hold hands forever

walk with me … at your own pace … for a spell.

Galveston Surf

Galveston Surf (Photo credit: Tom Haymes)