Nothing Valued Is Here
Gn’thiv smirked at the image carved into the face of the stone monument. He often marveled at what ancient beings would do to protect their treasures.
Sweeping Out the Stables
Lunette imagined the sound of the metal spade swooshing down. She imagined their wails and it made her smile, made her hand hurt less.
Commentary: Real Characters
We are in the thick of February. For those of you who also have full-spectrum lamps and take Vitamin D supplements, you know exactly what I mean.
Commentary: Screaming in the Middle of the Woods
I think my day job in the corporate world is ripe fodder for some neat poetry. “Poetry for Business,” I call it, or perhaps the pithier “Business Poetry,” which sounds like an English elective they’d offer to Business Administration undergrads at a middle-tier East Coast liberal arts college, or maybe Bentley. Or Babson.