He was one of her least disliked clients. Kind. Benevolent. Octogenarian. Most favorably, impotent. They spent hours at a time together,(booked in advance of course) enjoying plush hotel rooms, and delighting in her connective comforts, provided for a nominal donation. Mr. Arthur Giddleman possessed an exceptionally dry personality. Rather reminiscent…

From Bitten to Smitten… The very first time I met my best friend, she lunged at me, snapped her teeth and tucked tail. Defensively posturing to fend off whatever trauma might next befall her. Not a particularly surprising introduction, considering the circumstances. I’d recently moved and was thrilled at being…

Frosted with bitterness, sprinkled with self loathing and ruefully self-aware. Trials, falls, failures. Her righteous rage poised spear-like at whomever dare approach. It would take Spartan strength to hold a gaze so heavy as hers. Why must the torturesome memories of being wanted, happy and safe remain? Those realities far…

SHE DID WHAT? Multi-faceted murderess has a heart- that’s hers? Thoughts of every shape and color swirled through Psparkles sleeping mind. Mostly dark- usually tinged by blood of unknown origin. She was no more killer than human. Under different circumstances her ease with death would be lauded- medaled even. She…

I’d rather be the solution. — How to mourn the lost living? This is a conundrum I’ve been battered with lately. Losing myself, family members, friends- anyone I’ve grown close to would seem paradoxically easier, if that person had simply passed on. What I’m struggling with, is how to let love walk away; how to let…

The Past is Only One Second Behind You… — Though she was such a light sleeper even a restless wind could startle her to wakefulness, silently staring, through a small crack in her blinds, he did not rouse her. Psparkles only slept in her bed, only felt safe in her space. …

So Many “Yets,” That Fateful Night- in an Instant, Turned Into “Nevers.” — The bloodstains had dried. It was as if Psparkles had never killed that man. She rubbed the dry, cracking sanguinous blood from her black jeans. It flaked off as easily as her patience. She half skipped- half-walked down the dark street to her apartment. She loved being at home. Unlocking…