Unbroken Happiness

I woke up with a start. The smell of burning flesh congested the air. I did not know it was my skin singeing until I screamed in pain.
I’m dying. Oh God, please no. I can’t breathe.
My body gave to unknown force, and fell into a dark abysmal hole, head first.

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Best Friend

In the afternoon of this day, Elizabeth’s Buick and Val’s Honda were in the garage. I cursed the senseless fiend for invading our privacy. The front door was locked, so I used the back door. As I entered, two floral bikinis caught my eye on the sunbathing decks at the swimming pool. Soft music played in the house and I was immediately aroused.
Halfway up the stairs to the bedroom I heard low soft moans and whispers. The door was ajar.

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Our HOME is not yours

Response to Warsan Shire’s poem – Home galwaydailynews.com No one chases visitors from their home unlessthe visitors have overstayed their welcomeyou

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The Gay Killer

First published on AfricanWriter.com IMG: Jesse 757 vi Flickr “Where are we with the ‘Gay Killer’ case, detective?” Chief Inspector

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Blessed Virgin Merry

PHOTO: Ecstasy of St. Theresa I was beatified on the same day Sister Irene ‘Nyaatha’ Stefani became ‘Blessed’. While Blessed

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