Cenote

In Fiction, Travel on March 24, 2014 at 11:27 am

Cenote-NatGeo
Cenote

Glittering azure
Crystal-cool and comfortable
Bright fish swimming
Scales tickled with light

And below

Caverns, endless
Blue to green to inky black
Pressure and darkness
Pulling
Pulling
Down

Nameless mystery
Crushing truth

Dive

The Mural

In Fiction on December 12, 2013 at 10:50 am

JoesBoots

The Mural

The mural’s colors were garish and rich—deep bronze Indians circling the bright white canopies of a wagon train. Behind, the green trees seemed fluorescent against the shade of a deep wood.

Covered in gray dust and aching from the day, Joe stopped to consider this reconstruction of his people’s history. The romanticism. The racism.

A proud, untrammeled tribe seemed to wake in his heart.

But it was an odd stirring, and as Joe looked ahead, up the boardwalk to the squat row of beige townhouses with their faded lawns and collected refuse, he suddenly bent to unlace his boots.

When he stepped through—onto the cool grass, into the caravan—they were all that he left behind.

Philippe

In Fiction on December 9, 2013 at 1:37 pm

Latte

Philippe

“Sit, Mr. Brennan. Your wound is weeping.”

When I turned, Philippe Bonté was sitting at the white marble counter, delicately stirring a coffee.

“How’d you do that?” I asked, slow to comprehend. “You weren’t there before.”

“I wasn’t?” he asked innocently. “Well, if you’re sure… You really are a magnificent detective, Mr. Brennan. Voudriez-vous un café?”

I crossed the room in three long strides and put my pistol beneath his chin.

Non, merci,” I said, readying the hammer with a click, but Bonté didn’t so much as flinch. He wiped his mouth and waved the napkin in the air like a little white flag.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 300 other followers