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Tag: S. conde
The Feeling
There are no words to describe it really. I can only speak of the feeling. It starts deep within me at the base of my spine and spreads upward with a warmth and tingling, throbbing even. Up to my belly it goes. Hot, aching, reaching my heart. Down my arms into my hands; alive with…
Amazon Reviews of The Red Speck
Reviews are coming in and I continue to be genuinely taken aback. Below are a few for your perusal. Thank you all so much for the money you spent in buying the book, your time spent reading and reviewing it, and most of all your thoughtful consideration. I am beyond grateful. 5.0 out of…
Value
She was dead. So well loved was she. Still, one vulture came repeatedly, to pick over the corpse. The old man called, “Come quickly, she’s taking everything of value.” She could not go. She could not participate. What the old woman wanted her to have, she placed lovingly in her hand, days before death came…
Evolution
The scorpion stings, the snake tempts and the eagle guides us. Seven tasks, seven rewards, and seven angels. All in threes. Evolution. Venus the star of the morning, the necessary evil. She who put the sword in the girl’s hand, the crown on her head. Empowering her to cut away the cobwebs and self doubt….
I Am She
She used to be me. That is, I used to be she. I have since unzipped and stepped out of her skin, quite literally. I could not speak of her then, as I could never, ever, see, the massive forest for the surrounding trees. She was the walking wounded. The prey. Or predator maybe. Either…
The Immortality of Thought : Part Three
The woman stood up abruptly which caused the girl to open her eyes. The woman extended her hand. The girl reached out and took it. The two women walked hand in hand, out of the house onto the simple wood slatted porch. “Our thoughts are of the utmost importance.”, said the woman as she led…
The Violence of Peace
If you follow me on Facebook, you’re probably cognizant of the fact that I’ve been avoiding writing this problematic piece since the title first flashed across my brain some weeks ago. (I’m much happier writing about the inner world, than the outer.) Just now, browsing the internet, I came across an essay by George Orwell…
The Accessibility of Truth : Part Two
The woman returned to the humble task of folding napkins. “If I were my mother…”, said the woman, “…I’d be ironing them.” The girl smiled, finishing up her biscuit and gently wiping her mouth with the linen napkin before setting it down on the table next to her plate. Her hands folded under her chin,…
The Corruption of Truth : Part One
“We, in our human form, are very similar to black holes.” The girl looked disappointed. The woman noticed. “…not in a negative sense, I’m not speaking of a void…which I think is a misconception about black holes anyway…” Her voice trailed off, following her thoughts. The woman smiled with eyes closed and shook her head…