Faster than sex, but not as much fun — Since I required a biography for Marie A. Rebelle and May More’s Blogable Fiction Marathon I’m helping judge, and Medium has rolled out About pages with formatting options, I cranked out this tidy little autobiography. And as any good Medium writer will tell you, reuse, reuse, reuse. Wring every penny…

The fire brings us warmth, comfort, and safety during the chilly mountain nights. But we must tend it, lest disaster befall us. We sit around the dying embers of our campfire, deep in the woods, ever mindful of our father’s instructions. Never let the fire go out, lest the monsters…

In the ruins of our life, we sought only one last dance — The torches flickered on the edge of the dance floor, casting weird, grotesque shadows of the dancers around the room. Emily and I danced each dance, with the same passion as we had danced our first, only taking the time to enjoy the champagne between song breaks. The champagne flowed…

Wise men have claimed music can soften rocks or bend the knotted oak, but they are fools. Music lifts us upwards to the heavens, so we may do the work of the angels and the daemons. — They say Nero fiddled while Rome burnt. I don’t see a problem — who doesn’t like some fine music with a pleasant fire? For me, the music is an integral part of my performance. I can dance silently with my blade, and I do when it is necessary. But it…

When you get in over your head, the best course of action is to play it by ear. — The ropes suspending me from the floor were digging in, rubbing my wrists raw and bringing me to consciousness with a jolt. With my full weight on the rope, there was no relief in sight. No chair to slacken the rope. No reprieve from the searing pain. The more I…

The future leads us, but where to is unknown. Uncaring. — Stretching off into the distance, the highway shimmered under the hot noon sun. We could see, in the distance, cooling hills and majestic mountain, but we weren’t there. We were here. In the desert, stranded by the side of the road, without nourishment. Without supplies. Without hope. The highway spread…

Dreaming of vengeance for all the unjust wrongs perpetrated against me, from a world full of faceless names. The world will burn. — Names. Everything has them. It doesn’t matter how unimportant or trivial something is; it has a name. Insects have names. Beetle. June bug, Grasshopper. Diseases have names. COVID, tuberculosis. HIV. People have names. Many names, usually. The ones used to their face, and the ones used behind their backs. Everything…

Born and raised in the woods, she grew into a wild child. A real wild child. — She watched them from the safety of the trees and bushes. Staid old men, strutting around in their business suits. Proud of their achievements, blind to how unimportant they are in the grand stream of time. Milliseconds of victory in an aeon of defeat. The women, subservient and humble. Meek…

When one whets one’s appetite with the desires of the flesh, one does not easily become satiated. The cravings consume all in their fires. — Dave drew the head of the wooden match across the rough sandpaper on the edge of the box, makin' a scratching sound that turned into the cackle of a small fire. A tiny fire on the end of a tiny stick. How could this be the destroyer of worlds? So…