creative writing
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The Vanishing Years – Part 4
Previously on The Vanishing Years … The Lydia Fairfax case had become a media circus with national headlines, cameras everywhere, her family playing their roles for the public. But off-camera, their indifference was unsettling, and the trail of elderly women… Continue reading
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Perfect As It Is
A gentle wind stirs the treesBirdsong weaves a radiant chorusGolden light spills through the branchesMorning opens with quiet promise If I could change this momentI would not dareIt is perfect as it is Continue reading
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The Beggar’s Cathedral
No one remembered when he arrived. The old man in the tattered robe, barefoot even in frost, appeared one All Souls’ Eve at the edge of the village wood, where the fog hung low and the soil remembered blood. His… Continue reading
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The Angel Without Light
When you wander through the endless night, the memory of day dissolves. The sun is no longer a friend but an adversary, a blazing tyrant whose touch scorches without mercy. I have not felt its light for … who can… Continue reading
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Child of God
The spider crawls across its weba quiet architect in the autumn sun I should feel fearyet wonder takes its place From a distance, I bow to this creaturea child of God, as I am too Weaving each thread with patient… Continue reading
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Rise Again
Let your heart break openOn the holiest of nights Weep for the injusticeCry out for the painHowl against the cruelty of the world And when its overrise again Wipe the tears awayBrush the dust off your body Plant your feet… Continue reading
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The Vanishing Years – Part 3
Previously on The Vanishing Years, while the media obsesses over the disappearance of Lydia Fairfax, a darker, quieter pattern was being ignored. Seven elderly women—poor, mostly Black, living alone—had vanished across the city, their cases barely earning a paragraph in… Continue reading
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One-Eyed Messiah
All the kids on the block call me the Cyclops. It’s not a name I chose, but it’s the one that stuck, whispered between their bicycles and bouncing basketballs. They don’t know much about me except that I live alone… Continue reading
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The Shadow Across the Street
From his porch, Danny was certain he saw movement in the house across the street. That didn’t make sense. The place had been empty for months, ever since the last family was evicted. Yet in the faint glow of the… Continue reading
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Lost & Found
In New York Citya subway stranger snarled at me,“Get lost!” So I did I walked away from the concrete hiveslipped beyond the skyline’s reachand wandered into the wilderness There I washopelessly lostwonderfully lostat last, alive And still I rememberthat greasy… Continue reading
God Is In The Radio 