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Creative non-fiction

Author Of Rhyme

I went to this place of guilt that made my insides rot, then built up a smell that came up from my belly and into my nose. I was a thing of rot; breaking apart, and building up a thick mold within; a carcass.

Fiction

The Devil Whispers

They say, still waters run deep; these four words made immortal by a combination of both wisdom and beauty. So much insight can be embodied within a short expression formed out of thoughtful observation. Still waters run deep, but I say, so do turbulent ones. I grew up by Shawinigan Falls. Locals knew about a… Continue reading The Devil Whispers

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Fiction, Metaphor

Read Between The Lines

As a slim foretelling of light peered over the horizon, and as the grooves of the earth became visible for the first time, Truth came to be. Truth, the first of the storytellers, cast a long shadow; her only companion in the quiet existence where no language had yet formed. When there were no known… Continue reading Read Between The Lines