Leaving room for errors seems wise

until there are mistakes sleeping

on every sofa in your house

warm and snuggled up,

too comfortable,

yet too heavy to push away

you've let them enter

and they are here to stay.

at night they creep beside you in sleep

and visit you in your dreams

or pull your window curtains drawn

to display a terribly disturbing scene

day breaks;

they've burrowed deep in your c...

after my haiku "for those late to blooming,"

the gardener's gloved hands move slowly when

he packs a new plant into place. it's

a white and indigo columbine this time, petals all

fanned out like a threatened cobra. over

time the stem will droop, and the color will blacken, and we'll

know it's time to discover

the next specimen that

will take its place. flowers

have always been fickle things, desp...

"You will go with your father." My mother leans forward in her rocking chair, forcing me to promise her soundlessly.

The door creaks open. I know who it is, but I don't dare look back.

"But--"

"Your fate is sealed," she whispers, gripping my small hands in place. Her hair fell over her eyes, riddled with sweat and ash. The furnace coals steam and hiss behind us. "And I can do nothing to change ...

(p1 on my profile!)

"Hello, Ten."

She didn't wait any longer; she ran. It wasn't toward home, it wasn't toward anything– all it needed to be was away.

She ran as fast as her feet could take her, turning random corners until she dared to throw a glance over her shoulder: nothing.

Gasping for air, she slows and scans the area frantically. Who's to say he hadn't already transformed into a bird, o...

*This just in: The Author is taking a short leave of absence from his headmaster position to track down the notorious Ten Silver, who has been at large since last summer...*

When the city speakers blared the news across the street, Tenley, dangling her legs over the edge of a roof, couldn't have been more delighted. Hearing that 'The Author' is looking for you is enough to make grown adults cry, ...

Through the mist and the leaves, lantern-lit windows flicker with passing shadows. Crowded voices can be heard from inside, chatting the evening away. I sludge further through the mud.

"I told you there would be someone out here to help us."

George swats a swamp bug from his arm, grumbling, "Dumb luck."

"Could you at least *try* to be optimistic?" The building comes into better view, holding i...