Haiku – 3 Looks at Log

Hand-made log cabin

Sitting alone in the woods

Crafted by skilled hands


Sitting on a log

Inside a round stagnant pond

Frog waits for a meal


A hollowed out log

He crawled in among the slime

Hoping for safety


For more prompt like “log” go here: Haiku Horizons


Something in the Sand – A Yuffie Collaboration

“Try and raise a sea beast he said,” Yuffie chuckled at her arrogance. She was a powerful necromancer.  One who knew the ends and outs of raising anything from the dead, but she had never encountered something like this.

She looked out at the sea, the waves rolling in, and wondered how she would get out of her current situation. The night was coming on. Thick with its suffocating darkness. She looked down again, pushed back her tears, and tried to find her courage.

The sand tightened its grip, sucking her down even further. It knew what she was going to try, and it wasn’t going to let her. It had waited far too long for this feast, waited for ages to taste sweet warm pulsing blood. It was very hungry.

Yuffie felt the grains of white sand invade her mouth, her throat, and then her lungs. Her eyes took one last glance at the sea, the sky, and the world she loved to live in. This wasn’t going to be her death today. She cast her spell, and a second later the sand blasted her out, vomiting Yuffie skyward.

She tumbled and fell, rolled down to the water’s edge. She lay there a moment looking around. She felt the sand moving underneath her. Trying to find its lost meal. She hurried to her feet, as a large wave crashed behind her. She rushed up the beach, as sand tentacles tore free from the sand with large mouths on the end of them. They snapped and grabbed at her feet, as she saw Dwayne standing at the edge of the beach. He was smiling. He was the cause of all this. Why hadn’t he told her about the killer sand? It dawned on her. She was meant to be its victim. A sacrifice.

She could feel the tentacles behind her, closing in, as she neared the line of palm trees. If she timed it right she would be able to survive this. She rushed towards Dwayne who’s look of happiness turned to fear in a moments notice. She ran past him, and as he turned to watch her go he felt the tentacles attach themselves to his body. Their sand teeth dug into his flesh like piercing needles. A second later they pulled him backwards and into the sand.

Dwayne took one last gasp of breath, one last look at the world at large, as sand filled his eyes and mouth. The sand squirmed and wiggled its way down his throat, eating and loving his insides with glee.

A few minutes later, Dwayne now consumed, the sand burped a satisfied burp.

Yuffie stood and watched the sand settle back into its resting position. She quickly conjured up a spell, and waited for the dead sea beast to arrive.

The sand had consumed its last meal.


This tale is one of four tales written for a Yuffie collaboration.

You can find the other three tales at the links below.

Layne Ambrose of Chewing on Glass
Mel Gutier of Fiction in my Head
Peter Edwards of Little Fears


The Headless Fountain Man

Kim was approaching the annual Canadian Comicon when she was startled by a headless statue sitting inside a large silver fountain. This statue had black Chuck Taylor’s on its feet, red socks on its bare ankles, blue jeans, and was wearing a tee-shirt that read “Water you looking at.”  She took out her camera and instead of taking pictures of the various people in cos play costumes (Star Trek, Star Wars, and Frozen seemed to be the lead choices, Frozen, weird, I know, but hey it is a Comicon), she decided to take a picture of this statue, sitting there on its butt, dressed like it was heading for a skateboarding convention, with no head on top of its body. Its head had been replaced with a large white geyser of water that sailed into the air and splashed all over the headless figure and the ground around it.

Her finger froze before she took the shot, something about this statue felt all wrong, something about it didn’t seem right. She focused the lens, and thought she saw the statue raise an arm and wave at her. She paused, and pulled the camera away from her face, opening both eyes. She looked at the statue in the dusky light. It was still sitting there spewing water from its neck, arms and legs unmoving. She shook off the goose bumps, raised the camera to her eye, and snapped the shot. Then she snapped a couple more because you didn’t know which one would be the money shot, best to have backups.

“Coming hon,” A young man’s voice replied.

Kim turned to face her husband and quickly turned back to the statue when she thought she heard a splash. It sounded like two hands had decided to slap the water. She studied the hands. Did they wriggle? Did they move like slimy wet worms? She was unsure, as she put the camera strap around her neck and joined her husband at the door.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Fine. Just snapping some shots.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Comicon jitters. That’s all. Shall we go,” she replied, as a large person dressed like Chewbacca brushed past her. This Chewbacca was not only tall, but fat. In fact, it was the fattest Chewbacca she had ever seen. The long shaggy hair did nothing to conceal the rolls and layers of blubber. She stifled a laugh, and then she and her husband followed the fat Chewbacca into the building.


That night, Kim and her husband lay in bed, slumber like the dead had taken them over once they had found their pillows. A round full moon hung in the cloudless night sky casting a yellow light over the blue bed sheet. Shadows, thick and ominous, lay splashed across the room in various spots.

Kim stirred on the bed as if something was watching her sleep, something that had slunk up out the dark and decided to put its eyes right on her. She sat up on the bed when her nose caught a whiff of a watery damp smell. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom in the room, as she looked around trying to see where that smell was coming from.

That’s when she saw it – The Headless Fountain Man.

He was standing in her doorway, highlighted by the moon, dripping water all over the carpet. She looked at him, and he looked at her. She stifled a scream when she saw that he was no longer headless. Sitting on top of his shoulders was a large camera. The Headless Fountain Man leaned his camera head towards her, and adjusted the lens. A flash of light, electric and powerful like lightning, lit up the room with a brightness so bright it almost burned out her eyeballs.

When her eyes adjusted, Kim looked at her husband, still fast asleep, as The Headless Fountain Man started taking small steps towards her, his large concrete shoes making a loud thump on the floor. She slid off the bed and scurried underneath it, curling up in a fetal position. The Headless Fountain Man paused when he reached the bed. He kneeled down to the floor with creaky knees, and looked at her with its camera head. He didn’t hesitate, as he snapped another picture that was so bright it burnt part of the floor, leaving the carpet smoldering soft white smoke.

Kim had no idea what to do as she heard the camera gearing up for another shot, a loud sound that echoed around the room, shaking the floors, and the walls with its ferociousness. She curled up tighter, squeezed her eyes harder, as a feeling washed over her that this might just be the final shot, that this time the flash would burn her body to ashes. She started to cry, fearing the end of her days upon her, and that’s when it all went silent.

She opened her eyes, peeking with caution out into her room. It was morning, she was back in bed. She could hear the shower running, as she looked from the bathroom door to the window to the room at large. There were no signs of The Headless Fountain Man. Feeling relieved that it was only a dream, she slipped out of bed, and pulled up her feet immediately. She looked down at the floor and saw a large wet spot, beside it there was a picture. This picture held an image of her frozen in fear, cowering, fearing for her life as she hid within the darkness underneath the bed.


Thanks Kim for the inspiration


Old Montreal

You can find this story as a bonus on this short story.

What happens when they ask The Dragon to summon a demon? A simple machine. Able to answer requests. Able to play music. Able to turn on lights and answer questions. Fun and enjoyable technology, but what happens when this machine is able to manifest actual things. In this short story two guys worst fears will come to life.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076GNB1MY

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076GNB1MY

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B076GNB1MY

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076GNB1MY

Tales from the Blog (9/24/2017): Devil at the Wheel 17

 “A part of what? I didn’t ask to be a part of shit!” Mike suddenly got defiant, but defiance would do him no good. It would only go as far as helping out his pride.

“You’ll make us a circle of five; the book has willed it to be so. With this complete circle, our souls will live forever. We will be eternal.”

Mike fell silent, and his eyes turned yellow. The black entities began to circle him and to recite an ancient spell, held for centuries inside the book with the glowing red pentagram on the cover.

“Five points on the pentagram”

“We will never die”

They chanted this phrase five times.

When the chant ended, the black entities dispersed.

Mike’s soul emerged from his body and turned black. He joined the other black entities, and watched Vin with triangular yellow eyes.

“Four in a circle, one more makes five,” Mike replied, as a circle formed around Vin, and they all began to chant that ancient spell once again.

“Please don’t do this.” Vin was pleading for his life. He couldn’t believe Velle would never be restored. He wouldn’t miss his family, but he would miss that car.

Vin felt his soul rising, felt it leaving his body, felt his life ending, and a new one beginning.

The End

You can purchase Joyride at these locations for 99cents.

Amazon (MOBI)

US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0075O2DBS?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0075O2DBS?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B0075O2DBS?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

CA: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B0075O2DBS?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Draft2Digital (EPUB)


Starting next Sunday: Demon Energy

A short story about 1 man possessed and tormented by a 1000 demons who must fight for a soul he is starting to lose. Will he ever find salvation or is his body now an eternal host of hell?

Tales from the Blog (9/17/2017): Devil at the Wheel 16

“I guess you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Two yellow triangle like eyes glowed bright inside the black entity, and they stared down at the boys, who were looking up at them. “Maybe your uncle can explain it, Mike.” When the entity said this, another black entity appeared. Its triangular eyes burned yellow just like the eyes of the other entity; but, when it spoke, Mike knew it was his uncle just by the sound of his voice.

“It’s time, Mike, time for you and your friend to join us.” After Mike’s uncle said this, one more entity appeared, all of them, hovering, yellow triangle eyes burning bright.

“Vin, we got to get out of here,” Mike replied, as he tried to help Vin get up.

“You’re not going anywhere, either of you,” The entity from the radio replied, as the boys froze in place. They went into a trance and had no control over their bodies, as they gently lay back onto the ground and waited for what was next.

“What do you want? Can’t you just let us go?” Mike asked, almost on the verge of tears, mouth the only thing able to move, pissing his pants again.

“Don’t you see? You’re a part of it now, both of you. You should be happy you’ve been chosen,” Mike’s uncle replied . . . to be concluded next Sunday at 6 A.M. Did you miss a post? Check out the Category “Tales from the Blog” in order to catch up. Have a great Sunday.

Tales from the Blog (9/10/2017): Devil at the Wheel 15


Ten miles later, the car turned off onto a sandy dirt road, and continued down this road until it came to a circular clearing. The car stopped and vanished, leaving Mike and Vin lying on their backs on the ground looking up at the moon and stars, listening to the sounds of the wild Everglades all around them, smelling its fragrance, bathed in the heat and humidity of a cloudless Florida night.

“Vin can you hear me?” Mike asked, as he sat up, looked over at Vin.

Vinnie woke up with the slowness of a man who had recently been beaten and knocked out. He opened his eyes and looked up at the night sky above him.

“I’m here man,” Vin replied, as he moved his jaw and found it wasn’t broken, but his face was extremely sore and it hurt to talk. “Where’s the car?” He asked, sitting up, swallowing blood, spitting out a couple of teeth that had fallen into the back of his throat.

“Well boys, how did you like the trip?” It was the voice from the radio, but this time the voice was inside of something else. It was a black entity that hovered just inches off the ground. The boys went into fear mode at the sight of it . . . to be continued next Sunday at 6 A.M. Did you miss a post? Check out the Category “Tales from the Blog” in order to catch up. Have a great Sunday.

Tales from the Blog (9/3/2017): Devil at the Wheel 14

Mike shrunk back into the seat, as he watched the green fists beat Vinny until he passed out. When the voice from the radio was finished with Vin, he was not only silent, but he had a broken nose, two black eyes, bruises from chin to forehead, and multiple broken teeth.

“Now, Mike. Do you promise to stay quiet?” The voice from the radio asked.

Mike’s shook his head hard up and down, as warm yellow piss filled his jeans and the seat below him.

“Good. Now we have a trip to take.”

The arms and hands evaporated back into the radio. The clutch pushed to the floor, the gears shifted, the gas pedal did its thing, and the car left its spot heading off in the direction of the dense, uninhabited Florida Everglades . . . to be continued next Sunday at 6 A.M. Did you miss a post? Check out the Category “Tales from the Blog” in order to catch up. Have a great Sunday.