Not quite so alone.
A little warning, this story might make you quite sad, in the end. You may also want to read osme of the other Spirit of '67 works before this, particularly "E Dante's 'Who Am I?'", although I don't think it's essential. We get to see a...
Carried away with summer.
Elle Dante gets a little carried away on the floor of the Spirit of '67 with the recollection of what she used to do in the summertime. A challenge over 'unusual summer fun' on playmouse elicited this work. Any (respectful) comments and...
E. Dante's 'Who am I?'
This isn't particularly explicit, (certainly more sensual than sexual, really) but is more something around which I feel miss Dante has some concern and wishes to explore, being the nature of how she came to be who she is, and the many problems one...
Spirit of \'67
Some notes from the author: Oh man. Yeah. I think my word-processor chewed this alive, but I may have wrestled it back under control. Anyway! I hope you enjoy this little piece of 'art', as our protagonist would call it. Any (respectful) Feedback or...
Hickory Dickory Dock
"The nurses, they, uh. They really don't get how serious this is, they're still joking around. Asking us if we know cartoon characters. And they think they can handle this like it's just normal TB. I don't know if Houston knows it's serious, either....
San Iadras: Not Divorced
Becky twitched an eyebrow at Anne. "So what is it now, anyway? Treyer or Salcedo?" Anne hadn't seen Becky in three, four years? It'd seemed like a wonderful, wonderful idea to try and catch up. "Still Treyer." She scratched the back of her neck,...
Philadelphia's Confession
When I was nine years old, I knew without doubt that I was going to die. It was there for all to see on the schedule board; Philadelphia: Prep-Work, September Through February, Stress-Testing, March Through Indefinite. I wasn't the only one. Lagos...
Beating A Live Horse
The starting gate dropped with a thunk, and that started the thunder. Flying chunks of turf and track pounded into dust by a legion of hooves and twitching muscled flanks and short little riders who didn't even look twelve years old. They hit the curve...
Migratory Species
The phone rang, and Troy hated himself. He licked the back of his hand, trying to get the acid out of his mouth. Spat into the days old coffee cup on his desk and pulled the wet part of his nightshirt away from his body. He'd rinsed it clean of vomit...
Kellmore Classic for Men
Troy liked sunshine, he didn't like sunny streets. Especially not uptown, where the glass skyscrapers caught the light, funnelled it down between them and turned the fashionable pedestrian walks into ovens. The crowded pedestrian walks. White tiled and...
The Lake Scene
"Why the love scenes?" Jennifer pulled her knees up onto her couch, smoothed the hem of her skirt down. Brushed her sandy-furred hand down over her white stomach, paused a moment to straighten her blouse. "Well there's love scenes that they just don't...
Mostly Kissy
Jennifer's hair smelled faintly dry, and dusky. Somehow like hot sand, warm earth baking under sunshine. Ever so slightly of peach shampoo, and, of course, like sweat. Sweat and her body and Troy's in the long hours of the night, and he longed to kiss...