Creative Colloquy strives to highlight the South Sound literary community & build relationships based on mutual admiration of the written word.
[Newest] Stories
For Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde
“Everything faded into mist.
The past was erased,
the erasure was forgotten,
the lie became truth.”
George Orwell, 1984
Some say love it or leave it.
I prefer to stay and fight.
Even as bloodthirsty gods of
perverse patriotic passion
demand—require—
blood sacrifice.
…
Ladies beware!
Cries the post on the Nextdoor app
And just as I was starting to buy into the illusion
Of safety and enshrouded my fear.
I cannot walk downtown alone at night —
Or at any time of the day, really
Concerned with the rustling behind me
Is it cat or human
I can fight off the claws, but not the arms.
…
Hush now.
Listen quietly. Huddle close to the fire and say nothing of the wind. It may hear you. It may not like what you have to say. Close your shutters, lock your door, and don't listen to the spirits when they come knocking. If they like you too much they may take you for the Hunt. They might snatch you right up and force you to ride with them; twirling, tumbling, howling through the night sky for the rest of eternity.
Oh, but what a ride it will be. There's a sort of breathless freedom that comes with charging through that sky. There's a comfort with feeling the heat of your fellow riders
and knowing that you were never alone and you never will be again.
Hush now.
Foggy fish breath and broken canals can’t underestimate the soul any more than a humid hawk can
understand the vastness of lament. We’re born, terms and conditions applicable, subject to change,
slogging our way through muddied canyons and hose water.
…
