Dark, quirky vignettes I come up with every once in a while. Some stories are loosely-related, and some stand on their own. Enjoy.
The yellow lines on the highway sped by in a blur, and we flew through the night, and we felt free. But we weren’t, and we knew it. We were running away from something, and running away was never the path to freedom. I thought about telling John to turn back. I thought about suggesting …
Reporters are trained to develop a sixth sense, a nose for when a story smells fishy. And something about this one wasn’t right. First of all, Tom Sutherford’s wife Rosa was missing, but all of her belongings were where she left them. She didn’t take any money out of their bank account. Her car was …
The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter came shadows. Long nights. Endless journeys through the long, dark halls of my mind. I stared out of my solitary window facing the barren orchard. The few leaves left on the trees whispered and …
“How did you know?” I ask, not sure I want the answer. I thought I had been careful. I thought Minnie felt only my feigned support and cheerfulness. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Just a feeling.” Blurred asphalt and weeds fill my eyes. A dilapidated farm house in the distance. The road is eerily free …
I’ve lived in this town my whole life, and most of the time, that’s fine by me. But in late fall when the sky fills with birds migrating south for the winter, traveling thousands of miles, I homesick for places I’ve never been. Places like Malaysia or Thailand or South Africa. I want to be …
Meet Krystal
I work with creatives: aspiring authors, performing and visual artists, crafters, and many others for whom creativity is their passion. My dream is to help creatives develop systems to help them achieve their artistic dreams.
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