Fantasy Author
I wish I could say America didn’t change me, but it did; it changed me in a hundred little ways, day after day, asking me to surrender tiny piece after tiny piece. I was unprepared for the false and flippant friendships, and unprepared for the way people use and abandon each other. I began a... Continue Reading →
In Wales, they say you should water gardens with blood if you want to see a truly spectacular garden. That's why all the famous faery gardens are so full of abundance - the Island of Shalott, and the Isle of Avalon, where willow and apple trees grow in profusion. Whether the faery gardens are real... Continue Reading →
It was smaller than I imagined. In my mind, I had conceived it as this enormous barrier, unyielding and reaching for the sky. But it was not like that at all. It was not some last proud warrior of its people, standing in defiance against the centuries and the wars waged before it. It was... Continue Reading →
I once visited an Iranian grandmother in her home. She made Turkish coffee in delicate cups, and fed me pumpkin pie and chocolates. “It is always like this, back home,” the man with me said, who was from Palestine. “There is always hospitality.” “I am very religious,” the Iranian said in response, and quoted the... Continue Reading →
I heard the full moon sing last night; songs of ancient paths, songs of distant dreams; and the wild spirit that remains in my heart unfolded to hear it. Like a ghost you came, and whispered: Play once more with me. Play another game. How did Wendy answer Peter, that last time? "Peter, you old... Continue Reading →
I want to write something beautiful. Something that speaks to yearning; something that speaks to the yawning cavern, aching to be filled. I want to speak of the darkness of that cavern; of the infinite chamber that hangs silence like a curtain, waiting for the voice strong enough to pierce it – this veil that... Continue Reading →
Originally published on Anima Monday It’s always the strangest sensation. I look up from the 15-inch screen that has consumed my day, and remember that I exist in a physical realm. I close the laptop, and take a moment to notice the sunlight pouring into my living room. I open the window, and take a... Continue Reading →
Come and lay with me, here in the amber leaves. Don't tell me anything. No whispers; no promises you want to keep and won't. Do not dare to name the names my dreams are longing to hear - and whatever you do, don't say any one of the single things my breath is holding itself... Continue Reading →
When did my truth become my shadow? When it became a shroud I laid on others like a blanket - "I know who you really are." When I could no longer see the person beneath that which I already "know" about them. Religion colors truth. "God sends people like that to hell." Politics colors truth. "They shouldn't... Continue Reading →
The skies opened in the early evening. I was folding my laundry, neatly; domestically. You should never put a window in the laundry room. Unexpectedly you will have to choose: the great immensity of the wild outdoors; the calm clutter of your daily life. Tap, tap, tap. Raindrops like small pebbles on the glass; calling... Continue Reading →
Shelley J. Reece 