Song Stories: The Mechanic

The chicken and the beans were a little old – three days to be exact. “But I have to eat them quickly and rush back to the device,” the Mechanic proclaimed heroically to the empty kitchen.  “I can’t fall beneath her standards now.” The buzz from the microwave hummed loudly for the 3.33 minutes it took ...

Going to the Theatre: John and Beatrice

Going to the Theatre: John and Beatrice
Although I consider myself a playwright, performer, and theatre-goer, I very rarely go out to see a play.  Going to the theatre is like working on my novel.  It’s important for me to do, but I often make excuses (really valid ones, I swear) to not put in the time. “I should go see a ...

Short Story: Night of the Living? Darryl

           I knew all the silly rumours were true the minute the giant, oak door slammed shut behind me.  Something wasn’t right.  The hair on the back of my neck even tried to escape, standing on end and bristling against my shirt collar; it practically vibrated with tension.  I could hear ...

Short Story: Heading North

Sweat rolled down Shannon’s neck, wetting the wisps of hair at her nape and soaking the collar of her white blouse.  In a matter of minutes she felt the hot dampness of her shirt cling to her back.  She squinted and raised her hand to her forehead. “I don’t see anything but sand, James.  Nothing ...

Hazards of journaling

There is a box in my hall closet filled with journals that I wrote from 1989 to present day.  The more recent entries are usually ideas for stories or shows, with scraps from my actual day.  The older ones, they’re a bit different.  In those journals I have to sift through page after page of ...