01/21/06

The dogs were let loose, leashes left at the feet of the handlers, chains clinking against the cold asphalt. The growling, snarling masses of ragged fur sped along the roadway, their breath leaving clouds of mist behind them. And the shrieking screams of the woman fleeing the premises filled the evening. She was no match for them. Just as she reached the grass of the surrounding field, the first dog reached her side, it’s teeth sinking into the vulnerable flesh of her calf, immediately bringing her to her knees. In a flash, the other two were upon her; one on her flailing arm, and another found the flesh of her throat. Her screams were nothing more than gurgling whimpers, drowned out by the snarls of beasts. Flesh was torn, arteries ripped open, blood spilled onto the winter grass. And quickly, she was nothing more than a limp feast; her open body steaming in the cold night air. And a handler came to them, flashlight beaming into their feral eyes, glinting against the fresh blood upon their muzzles. And he let them dine. Dine upon the steaming corpse of her. And they filled their gullets on her flesh.

01/21/06

The sweet taste of your sweat lingers on my tongue, the scent of your skin taunts me. Your body heat faded long ago, and yet I feel like you were just here, inside of me. My body is still tense from our passionate coupling. And yet the bed is cold. The pillow, unburdened. Your phantom presence haunts me, flashbacks tease me. And I yearn for your presence already. Come back to me. Often.

01/14/06

Steam curls her hair as hot water caresses down her breasts and continues toward the cleft between her legs. Suddenly, her skin erupts in gooseflesh as his fingertips brush aside a stray tendril of hair, and he kisses the nape of her exposed neck.

01/12/06

He rolled and pinched her nipples, and she gasped in sexual delight; that slight sound caused his cock to harden even more.

12/05/05

A man is guiding a woman through a workshop. It’s dark, but not so dark you can’t see there’s tools on the walls, tables, benches, and sawdust on the floor. Nothing out of the ordinary. Walking through some plastic sheeting, the lighting changes. It remains very dim, but is now reddish, like in a darkroom. You can see the woman getting a bit uncomfortable as (typical horror movie cheese) rusty hand saws and pliers are left out on the tables. An unknown promise to the observer (you and I) keeps her following this man. The man parts another plastic curtain for her to pass through first, to which she does. And now we see things through her eyes. I don’t even know how to explain it . . . there was a sort of animatronic, counter-weight balance puppetry machine . . . that makes no sense. You know those stress relievers that are five balls suspended, you pull one, and the reaction is ongoing? Or the little bird you tip into a glass, but the counter-weight pulls it out, and the momentum pushes it back in? Every action has a reaction. A lead marionette was fed by the motions of the other four. The other four were fed by the lead. All were bloated and bloodied body parts. Even a gutted baby’s head, doing nothing but spinning. I know I have done no justice in explaining the odd dancing dead, but maybe I can come back later. As for the woman in the workshop, I have no idea of her fate.

11/27/05

I met the Empress of China and she was two-feet tall. She had a cute pudgy face, with iny little eyes, and I couldn’t see her feet because her gown went all the way to the floor. And her guards kept her locked up in a little gold box so she wouldn’t get hurt.

11/26/05

A man is coated in an oily residue, his lower body completely lost from sight. The only reason I know he’s bare-chested is because his abdominal and chest muscles are very distinguishable underneath the tar-black substance. His left arm is outstretched, upward, as is his face – in a silent, agonizing scream – every feature on his face coated in darkness and his mouth is filled with spilling, black oil.