About this blog

First of all, as you can tell I have changed this Blog site. I have now organized it as such:

This website will be a compilation of various bits and pieces I find interesting on the internet and beyond. As for my writing, I will be moving all my stories, both short and long, to a new website, same name but a much different service altogether. Hopefully this will make it easier for you to follow my writings and such.

Posted Stories & Such

Just click on the link above, or to the right, and you will be redirected to this new site.


As promised... An Excerpt from An Unkindess of Ravens

An Unkindness of Ravens

     As before, directly in front of me lay a series of empty loading docks all facing east.  Three quarters of them black as night.  In the few that were lit, pale yellow bulbs continued to flicker off and on, causing the darkness beside them to jump and reach.  Darkness had a heartbeat.
     Steeling, I managed to push myself forward, all the feelings in my extremities gone, the taste of copper in my mouth.  Aware that with each and every step I was growing ever nearer to the spot where I thought I had seen and heard something earlier.
     I guess one could say that I was in no mean hurry to get there… at least not quickly.
     The dock doors themselves were wooden with strips of long narrow glass inlayed across their tops.  Many of these self-same panels were gone; others jags of shivering glass protruding from blackened flesh, broken teeth outlining an even inkier darkness.
     ‘Which would explain the sound of shattering glass I’d heard earlier?’

     The entire time I remained alert, my eyes constantly moving, constantly searching- the shadows, the docks -for any signs of movement or life.  All I see however, are a handful of tossed wooden crates, many with their sides caved in, tops gone… that and a few hundred abandoned hand carts loaded down with pallets of stacked and swollen cardboard.

     “Kawwww-” Echoes upon echoes.  This time though it is followed by a series of high pitched screams, almost laughter, before fading off into distance.

     What the hell?
     Unsure what to do next, other then get the hell out of here, I go through the motions of fumbling around in my coat and pants pockets, hoping against hope that maybe just maybe I really haven’t forgotten my cell phone, that I’d merely misplaced it, forgotten where I put it… or that it would mysteriously reappear in this, my hour of greatest need-
     All of the sudden there is the sound of running feet all around me.  Halley’s Comet blazes overhead-

     For a moment in time my mind sort of slips gears, my hands go numb, my heartbeat shudders.  For all intents and purposes the sound of running seems to originate from somewhere directly in front of, to somewhere directly behind, me- and I swear I see a handful of leaping, jutting shadows race along the darkened and cluttered docks.  And even as those shadow-shades streak by, my senses are immediately assaulted by the stench of burning leaves- it is all I can do not to choke… then this too is gone.

     ‘A bunch of damn kids… is that what this is all about?’  Any other time and I would not have hesitated or given them a second glance, but this late at night, with the streets empty, here in this place… trouble seemed to loom all about me.
     Guess who just got volunteered to have the worst night possible?

     “I want to warn you all right now,” I tried putting my most ferocious face forward, “I’ve got a cell phone and I’m not afraid to use it.  In fact I’m dialing 9-1-1 right now.”

     My only answer at the time, more “Kawwww…. KAWWWWWWWWW.”  And this time the laughter is louder and a whole lot closer.
     Suddenly, from out of nowhere something hard and sharp whistles past my head, only to clatter and shatter against the far eastern wall.

     ‘So much for trying to bluff my way out-’ I really only had two alternatives, stay and get beat or run like hell and hope for the best.  And since the other side of the street was nothing more than a windowless wall of red brick, and I really didn’t want to retrace my steps back to where I’d just come from, I was left with only one real option, and that lay straight ahead.
     Digging in, my breath coming in sharp pangs, I long-legged it as fast as I could a good twenty feet- before the world was rocked out from beneath me by something hard, something that had slammed into the side of my head, knocked to my knees, sparks began to spiral out into darkness trailing-

     In the lightest of rooms- darkness appears.  Cracks run from floor to ceiling, as for the first time in five hundred years darkness is allowed to gather, to pool within that lightness of day.  Priests turn fearfully to their God, mothers cry, children want.  The ground begins to shake, histories books tremble as their writings beginning to fade, turn watery, run even, as if they are suddenly about to be rewritten.
      As it is written in the Good Book, ‘this and all the world shall surely pass,’
      And somehow it does…

     For a moment I am too stunned to do anything other than kneel and hold my throbbing head.  Through my fingers I can feel something warm and wet running down my temple and onto my cheek, dripping down onto my coat.

     ‘What the hell?’  Amazingly I am bleeding; the little bastards hit me with something and I am bleeding.  As I get to my feet I begin to sway, but I remain standing.  Faintly, as if from down a long spiraling staircase I can just make out a great multitude of feet rushing my direction, it’s a loud sound, like a great wind blowing through familiar tree tops on wild fall day, it surrounds me.
     As I struggle to remain upright, my right hand covering the spot of impact, I manage to turn-
     Which way do I go?
     Was forward in front of me or behind- I’m still not sure, not sure at all.   As far as I’m concerned I’m widdershins to the world.  All along my peripheral vision shadows begin to take shape, begin to move… running, flapping, arms pumping, cawing, screeching like banshees at mid-night.  Street urchins; common trash dressed in tattered jackets trailing long cloaks are headed my direction; they are in front of, behind, and all around me.

     “Okay,” I scream, holding my left hand out.  “Just stay back, I’m warning you.”

     In reality though who am I fooling besides myself?  I can barely keep my own feet under me, let alone defend myself.  Still they come, leaping and laughing and shrieking, waving their arms up and down, side to side.
     ‘A murder of crows,’ I can remember thinking that, ‘they sound like a murder of crows.’

     “That’s exactly what they are father.”

     I spin to the right, to the spot where the voice emanates… and there he is, god-sent or demons-spawn, the boy Phillip.
     Could he be helping them?

     More objects are being thrown my direction, glass bottles, bits of stone, bricks… splinters of wood from busted up crates.  Some hit with little or no force, others miss entirely.  The entire time they were getting closer and closer, these objects they throw, each and every time.  Some whistle as they fly by, hinting at their force, their speed. Others simply vanish.

     “What did you say,” I ask?  I am still rattled from whatever hit me in the head earlier.  “Is this all your doing boy… are you one of them?”  From sounds, my assailants are closing in; which means less debris missing and more hitting its mark.  It is only a matter of time before I am either knocked unconscious, seriously injured, or worse.

     For a moment the boy just stands there, the most wild eyed of looks on his face.  Where he came from remains a mystery.
     Even with all that is going on I can smell the scent of winter on him, a wild wet aroma reminding me of home, nose numb, cheeks cold, feet distant-

     “Take my hand,” He screams reaching towards me, “Take my hand and we can get out of here.”

     “How,” I ask… stumbling back a step?  “How do I know you’re not with them, or worse, one of them?”  For all I know he could have set this whole thing up.

     I could tell by the look in his eyes that my words had hurt him, the same as if I’d stepped up and physically slapped him across the face.  This is the second time I have said something hurtful to him.  “Okay…” I reach out, grab his hand.  “I’ll follow you; just get us out of here.”

     With a smile he grips my hand tightly and begins to pull me towards the far wall, away from my assailants, “Follow me,” He urges, tugging and yanking me forward.

     Still groggy from the head wound, it is all I can do just to keep up.  I find myself stumbling every few feet.  By this time the missiles are falling all around us, some of them actually staring to hurt when they hit.  A couple of these missiles start finding Phillip as well.  ‘So much for him being in on it,’ I realize.

     Overhead streaks of brilliant white light hammer from north to south, screaming long stratospheric trails across the sky.  Halley’s Comet hangs, suspended overhead like Domicile’s sword.  My right hand, now covered in blood, drops to my side.  Blood begins to fall-

     Outside the Vatican, ringed in stone a thousand years old, stones carried on the backs of camels from the very hills of Jerusalem, stands an ancient Bay-Leaf tree, having blossomed on time annually since before the time of Henry the II, it begins to lose its leaves for the first time, in a shower of green turning gold turning brown-

     ‘Just one lucky shot, that’s all it will take to bring me down, to bring us both down.’  But luck, or whatever seems to be dogging us remains, for no other ‘lucky’ shots seem to fall.  In no time at all we are across the street and up against the wall.  My mouth opens in protest, “What now?” I shout.  By this time my vision has begun to blur, my head feels like it is going to explode, and an endless tidal wave of water crashes against the rocks beneath me.

     “Turn around,” Phillip shouts, tugging at my right hand, “Turn around and face them father.”


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