Captian's Log Drabble: The Spider and the Raven 3 Jul 20201 Jul 2020 The spider and raven conspired: Raven: I don’t understand the humans. Spider: Neither do I. Raven: They never fight for their food but give it away like parents to chicks.…
Captian's Log Drabble: The Spider 2 Jul 20201 Jul 2020 In the shadows of her hole, her eight legs quivering with zeal, the spider felt the shaking webs. The food, she knew, the food was outside, scurrying outside. Louder now;…
Captian's Log Drabble: The Raven 1 Jul 2020 The raven’s black quills, glistening like rainbows in the sun, fold upon its back as the cunning bird lands upon the roof of some cart. His shining eyes survey the…
Captian's Log Poem: The Revolution 30 Jun 2020 There, sallow and dirty, dying and dead, the wicked we feared now fears for its head. So lift up the banners, make a loud shout. There’s nothing to fear; we’re…
Captian's Log Drabble: Gentle River 29 Jun 2020 The flowing river’s gentle roar carries me into the night, and by its bank, sighing, I rest my head against a log. Goodnight, I whisper to the mighty river as…
Captian's Log The Relationship Between Knowledge and Morality 28 Jun 2020 Author's Note: I do not feel satisfied with this train of thought, for I seem to have worked myself into a dead end. I am either wrong, and need to…
Captian's Log Drabble: A Passing Thought 27 Jun 2020 The reflection in the lake catches a passing bird, whose shadowy and murky form glide quickly over the glasslike water until it reaches the edge of the pool and is…
Captian's Log Thoughts on Joe vs. Don 26 Jun 2020 It came into my mind today that the big, approaching political question of Joe vs Don has symbolic undertones. It is not merely a question of who should hold the…
Captian's Log Ramblings: Motivation 25 Jun 2020 People do things, but why? One type of motive is that of the itch; if I itch, I scratch, and no further words are required. Some actions are motivated by…
Captian's Log Winter Will Come 24 Jun 2020 I thought I’d take the time to think it over, reflect upon what happened in the past, and maybe find something, some hope— There’s nothing here; it’s just a scab.…
Tale Told 