Find your next favourite story now
Login
RedSonja
Over 90 days ago
United States

Stories

Series

Dream Time - I

not sure what to do w/this - if I fictionalise, the kid may not be credible (even if it's me)

Dream Time I (draft) Shortly after she'd sent me away at 12, feeling like a good horse or warm buffalo robe, my mother was returning me from a visit at the studio where she lived, to my father's house – we'd not stopped for homemade pie and coffees at the...

my lesbian lover - I

about the wild-ish black-and-white tuxedo rescue cat sequestered in my room

she waits, as instructed,behind the doorin white tie and tailsI hear her callingentering, I sweep herup and into my armsshe nestles her headbeneath my chin,stretching every sinew,touching meeverywhere she can reachmoaning, a littlesearching out where I've...

Water

a little lighter

ruminations on desert ecosystemsbring to mindall those scaly, spiky, hard survivorsmaking a good livingenduring thirst under a relentless suncleaners circle overhead, hovering in updraftsor recon artists hoarding the dark closein thermoregulationeach occa...

in response to 3 comments for Alhambra by the same author, excerpted below: " . . . cooled the hot Andalucian sun and carried it off into arched spaces shaded like the olive trees we would eat paella . . . ""My angel is merciless to dream in perfect whisp...

Alhambra

on another layer, it's also about writing

in response to the following lovely comment left for languid (mornin', Sweeting):"my fingers slid down the natural gradientstretching the skin in all the more sensitivefelt as a soft moan might pad on a sheetintent on some scheme or huntfor the indistinct...

FIRE

submitted on invitation for 100 words on fire

FIRE Packed in like sardines with our luggage more than needed the newbies, jet-lagged and agog supplies and groceries, enough for weeks tucked into every crevasse seven, altogether, in the Rover lurching down the highway at the end of the dry season from...

mornin', Sweeting:  dawn's faintest glow sparrows chorusa hint of contrails heardin their unseen wake eyes closeddenied, the dayand conjured, invoked at the lightest toucha whisperof sueded silk and soft cottons warm, sacred breathsweet bed-scentstretchin...