In addition to novels, short stories, screenplays, and essays, I write the occasional poem, commentary, and prose piece that I can’t figure out if I want it to be a short story, a short short, or a novel. This space is where I’ll give you a taste of those works. Every once in a while, I will update this page with other freebie pieces!

And I Rise

In the peach sherbet glow of morning sunrise, my grandmother makes her way to the kitchen. She’s been up for hours. Has made a run-through of her home, has taken out my grandfather’s clothing for the day and ironed it, has bathed, and dressed, and has awakened my grandfather so that he can bathe and she can shave him.

It’s Sunday, which means it’s a baking morning. Pans are greased, the dining room table is lined and floured, and my grandmother already has breakfast on the stove and preparations for dinner on standby.

A shadow of a girl emulated every move of this strong, tall, formidable woman; that shadow was I.

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Storytelling Genesis

In the beginning, there was an image,
and it was good.

On day one, the image stirred you,
wrestled with your psyche, and evoked
emotions that had lain dormant. You
carried that image, like a baby
pic in a wallet, pulling it out to show
others as you smiled – the proud parent.

On day two, like a journalist, questions
flowed from your mind –
who this image,
what this image,
when this image,
where this image,
how this image,
why this image,
until whole humans formed in your mind,
their eyes vibrant blue or brooding brown,
their limbs movable,
their minds full of angst and yearning,
just the things good stories
are made of.

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Clothespins

Out back of my house, there is a clothesline. When we don’t want to be stifled by the heat of the dryer, we put our wet clothes there. On strong summer days when the sun beats down on backs and a stiff breeze blows, we pin up jeans and tees, dresses and shirts, to be whipped about and dried in God’s dryer. We bunch small corners of the clothing and pinch them onto the line with wooden clothespins. Along the green wire line, thirty clothespins stand at attention, holding tight to the fabric its job is to hold on to, to keep from falling below.

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The first time I did it, everything inside me went electric.

I sat on the edge of my bed, rocking, mumbling something unintelligible.

Tears fell from my chin and hit my denim-clad thighs.

My left hand gripped a steak knife I kept in the back of my panty drawer. Three times, I’d
taken it out, pressed it hard against my skin, ran my tongue over the blade, willed the urge to act to come forward.

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the kiss

i had a dream of a kiss that left me mindless and spent the kind of kiss that makes you hunger for more more than just a kiss the softness of masculine hands brushing along my cheek as his eyes tell me what he’s thinking and what he’s thinking is that right now more than anything else he wants to taste my lips and in anticipation i unconsciously part my lips slightly, my tongue lightly glistening my lips as if i’m ravenous and i am to taste the warm sweetness that exudes from his lips his fingers delicately cupping my chin with open eyes his beautiful face draws closer to mine his breath like whispers on my face before his lips sink into mine causing me to sigh in heavenly pleasure just to feel the silkiness of his lips the ticklishness of his moustache against my skin i moan my lips parting allowing his tongue to run along my teeth before exploring every crevice of my mouth his strong arms slowly inching around my waist pulling me against his hard body and as if weightless my arms raise up and my fingers glide around his neck lightly stroking his nape as our tongues meet causing us both to moan our whispers of pleasure his hands like streams flowing up and down my back along my backside pressing me ever closer to him feeling his arousal against my lower belly making me shiver but we continue to kiss our lips our tongues telling each other that we want each other need each other and that no one else can make us feel this good after what feels like infinity we reluctantly part the first thing out his mouth being my name which causes me to smile my eyes flutter open and in his eyes i see the chocolate of them turn ebony and i know that this kiss is so beyond just a mere kiss this is one of those kisses that will leave us both sweat-drenched panting and in an after glow of a long hot wet lovemaking session and without words i take his hand and lead him to where we both want to go to a place where we can mesh with kisses and bodies until we don’t even remember our names

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Island Love

the soft motion of the water as it laps against the beach
the way your hands softly caress my cheek,
my body with the slowness of love and
the urgency of desire

as tides roll in…roll out
timid and fluid one minute
strong and forceful the next

simulating the movement of your body
hands on my hips
your love entering me slowly…surely

as my mind splashes in and out of consciousness
in and out of the desire and
the ecstasy that is you