I wake with the dream still more real than reality. There were three of us – me, Christina, and Death – sitting around a table. Death wasn’t in his stereotypical guise, with the hooded cloak and scythe. Instead, he wore a baseball cap, a T-shirt with something rolled up in its sleeve, and jeans. ButContinue reading “Killing Christina – Part 4”
I tried telling myself lies about her: She’s an idiot. She’s unstable. She’s not that beautiful. The charms of her smiles, her thoughts, and her scents have no effect on me. But every lie was so foul that it made me sick to pretend they were true. I tried imagining parallel realities where we neverContinue reading “Killing Christina – Part 2”
Lies are dangerous things. None are more deadly than the ones we tell ourselves. Of all the lies I’ve known there is none worse than the one I told myself about Christina, that she could love me as much as I loved her. * * * Time has its own way of breaking things down.Continue reading “Killing Christina – Part 1”
I was introduced to Tim Tomlinson’s writing through his poetry, which I recommend highly to those who love poetry, and even more highly to those who don’t. You might find your distaste for poems is relieved after reading a few of his. Tim’s poems often feel like fiction, so I thought I knew what toContinue reading “This is Not Happening to You”
Honored to have my short story Carried on a Breeze published recently by Sick Lit Magazine. Click on the title to read it.