Braking to Inspect the Blank Page

I was recently reminded of a topic I read about on numerous occasions. The topic is either very common, or it’s just coincidence that I seem to stumble upon it more than once.  It’s this idea of sitting down and writing almost like you are letting your thoughts spill out onto the page. It’s almost like you are writing, and you get into the right mindset. From there, you just continue to write. It’s that easy…in theory. Certainly, such a stance has its benefits. For example, once you have stuff down, it’s possible to correct it. However, the real benefit of it is this feeling of riding on the wave almost like you’re surfing. You get enough speed so that you can keep going almost endlessly. Continue reading

The Harmless Mixture of Torment | Short Story

Something shook Jack out of his slumber. He was sweating and felt a penetrating surge of warmth from the inside. He wiped his face with his bare hands. Before him was a river. He dashed for the stream, hoping that the water is cold or at least mildly warm. As he got closer, he realized that the water is reeking, and it’s filled with various kinds of particles. The foul smell hit him, forcing him to back away. Continue reading

The Behemoth Made of Fear | Short Story

Nate was coming home with a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt rattled to the core. He searched the street for some signs of life, but no home had its lights on. He wanted to hear some banter that would, hopefully, shake him out of this trance, but his wishes were not heard. A cat dashed across the street of the barren boulevard where he lived. Continue reading

The Beat of a Sleepless Night | Short Story

The blast of cacophonous clamor came suddenly. It was strong, vibrant, and discordant. It blared with extreme strength. The noise penetrated the thin walls and resounded within the bedroom. It seemed to come from no specific direction, and it had a jarring rhythm which made everything inside quiver. Continue reading

The Exchange of Nightmares

The cry was strong, loud. It echoed through the house with unforgiving repetition. Stephen rolled off his bed and onto his feet. His wife, as always, was deaf to the screams. Her sleep was impervious to any and all noise. He gazed at the pillow one last time, but soon he was called again. He felt as if someone plunged a lance through his head every time a scream resounded through the walls. He knew he could practically forget about the midnight snooze. Continue reading

The Spiteful Swordsmen of the Southern Empire

The warriors have gathered for the tournament. There were only two ideas that would lead a man into joining this madness – glory and gold. The night was young, and after the last few bouts, most of them wanted nothing more than to spend their hard-earned gold. For this reason the tavern was full tonight. It was oozing with banter and laughs. Food littered the ground. There was also an occasional scream or two, and a brief scuffle. Continue reading

A Gust of Wind in the Face

The wan rays of the sun glittered in the tiny puddles that scattered the trail. The pavement was cold and wet from the night’s storm. There were faint traces of snow. Some of it lingered like a crown on a few nearby bushes, while the rest was nested meagerly high above all on the countless barren branches. The wind whistled with tremendous verve, like a warning to retreat. Continue reading

The Ascent

The wanderer pressed his hand on the rock. Grasping firmly, he felt the heat pulse through his hand. The cylindrical structure resembled a well. The boiling wall of stone overlooked the abyssal pit below. The darkness was creeping up from above. Looking deep down below, he grew restless, as sizzling fires snaked across the darkness. Most often, their shape lacked meaning, but sometimes they seemed to be forming words or phrases as if they were speaking to him. They burned into his mind without touching him, his heart throbbed. Continue reading