Captian's Log Sound of Silence 24 May 2019 There are sad refrains in a life, repeated bars which bring no joy to hear. I knew a mythical creature called a griffin. I had little love for this beast,…
Captian's Log Radio Theatre: The Beat Goes On 23 May 201923 May 2019 So, I'm still working on a script for Halloween night. It's coming very slowly. Here's a sneak peak: Outline: act I: Rex learns that there is a curse on the…
Captian's Log The Dream 22 May 2019 So, I like to use Word because it has much more versitility visually. Here, I have tried to create something super easy to make in word on WordPress. Please enjoy…
Captian's Log Enemies 21 May 2019 Separated by brick and mortar, in the darkness of our cells we could still hear each other through some fissure in the wall. I think it was put in by…
Captian's Log The Fog 20 May 2019 The fog settled slowly, rolling over the hills in misty currents. It clung low to the ground, filling the streets with its soft whiteness. The fog came in gradually, until,…
Captian's Log Poem: I Am At War and I Am Losing 19 May 2019 Please read: I Am At War and I Am Losing Excerpt: I am at war, and I am losing ground: Each battle won depletes my storehouses; At every victory moral…
Bureau of Clandestine Affairs Making Monsters 18 May 2019 The broken street lay shattered by the bombardment, empty craters and scattered cobblestones inhabiting the once lively thoroughfare. A guard, two men, marched out from around a corner, the invaders’…
Captian's Log King of a Little World 17 May 2019 “I gave him what he wanted,” said the wizened curator, a smile creeping in at the edges of his lips. Pulling out an eyeglass, I inspected the small black orb.…
Captian's Log Seeing 16 May 201916 May 2019 The pool reflected darkness, and dreams were found therein. Meditating by the unmoving waters, I searched its center: A wolf cub at his mother’s teat, warm in her inviting fir;…
Captian's Log Beyond 15 May 2019 My hand, hovering over the weathered brass knob, feels the coldness of the metal; not touching, not yet touching, hanging in that interim between fate and will. Beyond the door…
Tale Told 