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I have used this place to expose my deepest thoughts.

You my peers have my whole person before you. I am dressed only in a threadbare wardrobe.
It's your comfiest shirt. Your girlfriend steals it when when she wants to be reminded of you. Years old, woven with memories of warm summer afternoons, days in bed sick, and movie nights with friends. That shirt is your home, more than the dingy apartment you're in now. Home(more)
threadbare shirt bare feet
shopping cart home under bridge
state of mind unknown
When I was young my father had a peculiar philosophy about travelers and anyone who popped into his life. He treated them well and even took care of them when he could. It wasn't that he had a bleeding heart or a soft, caring nature (in fact he was(more)
It was a select gathering, as all feasts were with the Secret King. In ones or twos, the nobles emerged from hidden passages to eat, drink and plot in the King's hall.

It had been this way since the Breaking. The crown was the key to the Kingdom;(more)
It was hot. So hot. Way, way too hot. Usually the weather didn't really bother him--especially considering his default attire for his job--, but today the stars aligned and the weather gods were being petty, humidity being added into the already hotter than normal summer highs.

It was(more)
The shirt hangs from her body like seaweed over a rock.  Strips of cotton alternating with flesh, a sleek urban zebra.  She walks with a confidence that cannot be faked.  The shirt swaying back and forth and slipping from the shoulder.  She glances casually from side to side when cro(more)