Dessicated

By K D | August 1, 2018

In the afternoon the sky grew amber and shaded, and in the late afternoon thunder rolled through the clouds to the south. The fires already were close enough that the ash falling from the sky was only charred, intact pine needles that hadn’t disintegrated completely to carbon. But the clouds still rumbled in the heat,…

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A letter to a friend

By K D | June 10, 2018

I wrote this a little while ago, the only thing I’ve written in months. It takes quite a bit of energy to expose my thinking on paper – even when writing fiction it’s most of me that fuels the story – and I’ve been hording every bit of energy I have these days to stay…

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Dreams

By K D | May 27, 2018

I had a dream last night, a room full of people brought together to unite against some common enemy. It was never made clear what the enemy was, but we were representatives of dispersed communities dressed in fur and leather like a scene from the Game of Thrones. The leaders of the group stood at…

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Subtle

By K D | March 10, 2018

I see the subtly in things to a disturbing degree. I see the betraying twitch of an eye in conversation or hear a change of inflection. I watch a snowflake falling through the bows of a tree while listening to someone speaking. I pick up on someone tapping their finger once, and I pick up…

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In a March of Snows

By K D | March 5, 2018

Towards the end of February the clouds began to break and it started to look like winter would begin to wane, but at the end of the month the clouds came back and it started to snow heavily again. In March the snows continued and each morning was grey and white except for the forests…

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The Haunting Tree

By K D | March 1, 2018

There is a tree nearby that haunts me, rooted deeply into the hillside and growing up far into the horizon crooked and crippled, imperfect. And when I look at it, I then look out across the Marron Valley at Parker Mountain, and my eyes follow all of the aberrations of contours, the patterns of trees…

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The Undercurrent

By K D | February 24, 2018

Tonight I wandered the property with the dog. It was dark but with a bright cradle of moon, bright enough even through the clouds that it cast light on the sidecut pathway across the hills, and across the valley below dotted with headlights and farm lights. It made shadows out of the tallest sage bushes…

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Minutiae

By K D | February 14, 2018

I don’t even know what this is, but I like the wording. Sometimes I just write to hear myself talk. 🙂 I’m in bed with the tiny things. Not organization or complex steps and process, but that thing that is a lot more subtle than this, that thing that lies under the finer details. A sideways…

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In tight Quarters

By K D | February 13, 2018

What a great and terrifying experience. In the tight quarters of a fifth wheel trailer everything is amplified. Sitting on the couch I am three feet from three furnace exhaust fans blasting heat, and the cold air return. I’m four feet from the kitchen that also serves as dining room with kitty litter box, front…

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A Stone Quiet Firmament

By K D | February 1, 2018

Everything is stone quiet; the snow-covered fields, traffic on the highway distant below, jet planes above in the firmament. Even the farm dogs deep in the valley volleying barks with the coyotes, all of that tussle muted on the damp, heavy air. Everything is stone quiet. Stone quiet, and the moon is one day past…

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