I am going to start by entering some of my old oooooold works, which are typically short. The purpose is to see which ones I’m just too embarrassed to continue with, which ones I could change, or which ones I want to continue. Maybe there will be some guest commentary, maybe not. Just as a note, my works are all fiction/fantasy.
It seems to be
that all realms are of this world,
yet not so.
They separated from us,
like the surface of water.
Like the translucent sheen of glass.
They are reachable, visible, audible even, but untouchable.
And sometimes,
they call forth someone to them,
or something,
and they are lost–if only for a moment.
The creatures and people in them walk
alongside us,
inside us, yet curiously un-there.
They walk opposite us, under us, and of course, above us.
Once in awhile, a curios boy or girl,
will hold out his or her hand,
and break through that water, or shatter that glass
Or maybe even slide,
and like the water that spreads and foams around our hand,
the fiber of reality will split, and inevitably,
the child will walk into it,
and the silk will sew itself together again.
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