There was already a voice in Jessamyn’s head when the beacon hit her eyes. It told her a story about a serpent of light coiled around the hard ridges of her face—her right cheekbone, right eye, her tight angular jaw. It is the East, and Juliet is the Sun, the voice said, and Jessamyn almost … Continue reading The Voice
Written with my Thursday night group with the prompts: bulgaricus, in an orange room, why is she crying, the farm, he palmed his meds, there is no one there, hey baby, they were new, Kansas, healing, big medicine, Hank 25 years ago, they were young, is it all a sham, poppies like flames dancing, sat, peaceful … Continue reading An Orange Room On a Blue Planet
