Wednesday, May 23, 2007


I was in a small octagonal submarine with a mission to learn seaweed harvesting techniques. As we went down, liquid came through the bottom of the craft. It was green and gelatinous, and I became claustrophobic from the thought of soon needing to get into the water and use a square black breathing device that was known to attract sharks and dolphins, which was apparently useful for our purpose.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Attack from Within

Her hair is almost white, her fair complexion is masked by an elaborate paint job. The pattern is exotic, the colors vivid. Bright red features predominately.
She is on the floor convulsing. For the first time I am able to perceive that which vexes her.

It is barely visible, a yellowish vapor with a distinct shape. It reaches into her through her vagina with two arm like tentacles.

They look like the spine of some bony fish made outrageously long. Its head is featureless and elliptical, protruding from the end of a gangly limb like torso nearly undistinguishable from the other two appendages. It moves with determination and presence, clearly a calculating life form. I sense that it derives some satisfaction from its probing and the screams it elicits.

As her writhing and her cries cease I look away not wanting to comprehend the significance of such sudden silence.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Twisting Road

I am driving on a twisting, winding road in El Salvador with my sister.
The road is narrow and treacherous, plenty of people have accidentally driven off by a slight gust of wind.
We are headed over a mountain covered in lush jungle foliage and I have a birds-eye-view of the car. As I try to concentrate on the road, I take a quick glance at my sister and notice she is my mirror image.
She gasps as she remembers she has forgotten something, I wonder if we should head back...although I am unclear where back is.
Is it in front of us or behind us? It is clear that we have been here before..the end and the beginning are blurred.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Something Lurks

The ground is littered with leaves of brown and gold. Knotted oaks snake upward, their bodies fat and twisted.
One is missing its canopy. It has a gaping black opening in its trunk. This tree, or remnant of a tree, is to the left. It seems to offer both protection in terms of a place to hide and pose hidden threats of it’s own.
The landscape is uneven. There is a creek bed up ahead. I have advanced on this place repeatedly. Sometimes I find the creek full, other times at a trickle or bone dry.
Something lurks out here. It has taken someone I know.
I am almost in the creek when I catch a glimpse of it beyond the opposite bank. It is quick, running up right like a man, a blur of thick orange fur. I have not seen its eyes, but its mouth is black and has teeth for tearing flesh. It disappears amid the distant trees.
I begin to climb the bank and head in its direction.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Three Women

Three women, myself included, are paddling on surfboards.

It is night inside a place that feels like a bio dome or some enormous enclosed space. The waters are black and we are making an escape… old white men with outdated methods and philosophies, men who teach at universities, are our detractors; we are trying to make a change and go somewhere new.

Then, in the middle of the ocean, my surfboard is pulled under, by what force it is unclear. I try to dog paddle as one of the women dives under to try and rescue it, but she comes back to the surface without it. They are both aware of my propensity for asthma attacks.

Then the other woman slides off her surfboard into the water, she pushes the board towards me and says "Go!! Go back to shore!"

As the two us ride away, and back in the direction we have come from, she tells us to "keep researching." She goes underwater, into an old telephone booth under the surface. In there she waits to drown and be devoured by all the sharks and various fish that are swimming nearby.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007


The sky is a pale blue cooling into grey. I gaze out at it beyond the telephone wires
I am steadily approaching. I pass through the wires without a tangle and press upward.
I can see the crimson sun set now and its last bit of illumination spilling into a bustling marketplace. I descend to that place.
The buildings are dark, almost black and made of stone. They have an old world feel to them. The crowds are modern however. They sport revealing neon sports gear, fashionable totes and shoes.
In fact, they are even more modern than modern. Combined with the little storefronts all twinkling with lights and digital gadgetry it is a cyberpunk world set in the cobble stone of old Europe.
The tiny streets come to abrupt turns and stops. Every corner poses a question, hides a mystery just around its turn. The fading light of day gives way to the artificial dazzle of LED lights.
I bask in their imitation of warmth, the suggestion of life after life. Here, when the old sun hides its face away, still the crowd can ramble and play, crawl along these little paths like the inhabitants of a well cultured ant farm. That old sun remembers some of the things happening behind these storefronts, and has still to dream of others.