Thanks for showing an interest in my writing. Below you will find personal favorites among the stories I’ve published on Medium. Happy reading!
This werewolf will do anything to remain human
Their happiness is everything to me, even though it may be built upon a castle of lies and deceit…
Somewhere on earth during a brief moment in the passage of time, there was a modest town inhabited by modest people.
There really was nothing special about that place. It was a town among towns.
They lived their lives in peace and were expecting things to remain that way.
Forever and a day.
However, one fateful day, something unusual did happen.
Their peaceful existence came to a sudden end.
That day would forever be remembered.
The Day Of Flames.
Expectant townsfolk were gathered in the city square, for they had seen clouds paint the sky in shades…
Massive beasts of condescending water swarm the sky and, in doing so, deny the sun its domain — hindering the life-giving rays of light from reaching its creation.
I watch attentively as shadows creep up the sidewalk, draining away the light in its wake. PLEASE STOP.
My hands, outstretched, reaching for the skies, wanting only to offer my aid. But… it is with great resignation that I accept my own helplessness.
Alas, I am running, not willing to let go of the light, scared of being engulfed by the unnerving darkness.
But, it seems a pointless task. Their patronizing glares…
“The stars are pretty tonight… don’t you think?”
I try to speak, but my mouth is closed. Instead, I shake my head.
“Hmm, what’s that, you see no stars?”
With disfigured arms, I point to the empty sockets on my face.
“Oh, right. You have no eyes.”
A few minutes pass, and I start to believe he has left me to my fate…
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you one of mine. But, on one condition.”
I perk up, fixing the burned remains of my ears to the sound of his voice.
The voice that comes through is almost unrecognizable from…
I pinch my arm in disbelief.
Carnage. Slaughter. Evil. I try the feel of each word on my tongue, but none is adequate to describe… “this”.
I find myself surrounded by bits and pieces of human flesh and bones. The once green forest floor now painted red.
The gore is scattered here and there, but concentrated at the cavern's mouth.
Who or what caused this nightmarish scene… humans? beasts? or more likely perhaps, something out of this world. Let’s find out.
I inhale deep to muster the courage, but it has adverse effects. …
The wind speaks to me in gentle whispers, telling of a place far away — where I may find happiness at last, and yet somewhere deep inside, a voice of reason resides…
What I seek is likely to have been here all along, but it is easier to entertain thoughts of an easier solution.
To look up at the sky as I do now, dreaming about that place, a place where all of my worries turn to naught.
What causes happiness? Is it the sights you see, or perhaps the people you meet? Well, no. …
The hooded man steps in front of the lamp-post, causing eerie shadows to rise and the path in front of me to darken.
Every fiber in my body speaks to a primal need within, to survival, of running away from this intimidating stranger, but alas, I cannot, for my feet are as good as glued to the damp cobblestone underneath.
A dark hand reaches out from inside the black cloak, and It is as if time stands still. I ready myself for the worst, clenching my fist so hard that nails cut through flesh.
But, his hand reaches not for…
An ideal is something to strive for — not to expect to become. However much I try to, I realize I will never become my ideal; it is rather about trying to come as close as possible to that shining image.
My ideal is not likely to be the same as yours. Still, I’d say that it is good practice to describe the ideal person to ourselves so that we may find the path, so that every day you come closer to embody this ideal; to become formidable according to your values.
When describing the ideal person, it is wise…
I’ve always found it strange how people are so very willing to put themselves beneath others, and celebrity idolization is an example of this.
Naturally, being gifted at something (which is popular and takes place on the public stage) warrants recognition by the public.
However. There is, to me, a monumental difference between simply recognizing and admiring talent and viewing these people and as a species of human that stands above “normal people.”
I can respect the skills of someone, but that does not mean that I put myself underneath. To look up to someone in matters of them being…
The door opens, followed by the banishment of shadows and the invitation of light.
I scream and put my hands over the cause of agony, pressing them hard against my face in an attempt to hinder the blinding radiance from reaching through the cracks of my fingers.
It feels as if I were comfortably asleep in a cocoon of darkness, only to be forced awake because someone set it on fire; in other words, it hurts like hell.
I stumble away from my bed towards the door, flailing and moving like a small child learning how to walk.