Modern American Mythology.

Stories

  • Essence of Madness

    Sitting here, on a severed tree, The essence of madness awakes in me. I see the door to oblivion, And I grab the knob and turn the key.   Beyond the gate, I followed through, I saw the faces of those I knew, But they are not from the world I came, They only exist…

  • Who Am I to You?

    Who am I to you that I matter so much? I understand that my presence  does not provide much trust. I hear you speak of me, And not in good fashion. If my presence is that detestable, Why act like a chameleon?   Who am I to you that you act so differently? It is…

  • The Right Flower

    To pick the right flower Amongst the many growing in the garden. So many colors and smells alluring me Soft petals, white daisies and prim roses Brightly tempting me with their petals Dazzling blues and yellows Light that bounces, lovely radiance.   I have picked several so far and I have nothing to show for…

  • Weightless

    She hold her life in her hands as if it were weightless. Sitting on the edge of sadness and great peril, The windowsill, open and ushering in an autumn breeze. She places the gun to her head, Her hands move all on their own. Unconsciously, fingering the trigger. Ready to pass judgment upon her skull.…

  • Splitzo Frenetica: Chapter 5

    Sunny Chapman For the good of my mind, body, and soul, I must get rid of these other personalities… That’s what Dr. Kinless said. I guess I agree. I would love to have my time back. I find that when I black out, sometime I lose a whole day. Not to mention sometimes there is…