Taking a break from Sunday Scribblings this week

...I have been taking a wonderful short fiction writing course with my dear friend and most talented writer, Chris Kay Fraser

I have been super inspired by both Chris and my writing group pals. Anyhow, in addition to putting together a story (wow! I'm patting myself on the back for having delved into the world of fiction), this blurb came out of me a few weeks ago while at Cherry Beach in Toronto.

At first I thought it was some sort of head trip I was on (I was FULLY sober at the time, I promise!).

But after talking to my writing mates, they reassured me this is normal for writers.

I guess that's what I am:

A writer.

And normal.



Here goes:


It’s how you see it all.

Idea stew and mulligatawny messages.

Canvases without colour who plead for words and want to criminalize awkwardness.

Weighted souls that are filled with dense purpose alongside smokelit undercurrents which swivel under my skin,
simmering the sheath of my bones.

No time is told when clocks refuse to tick.
And lemons melt taste buds, raiding mouths with with majestic golden rays.

My laugh is grainy when I react.
The tap tap tap of my clicking bones sends sharp threats thru my spine.

And suddenly idle sounds grow unbearable.
When pink pompoms catch up with my toes despite snickers.

Shimmering sparkle flakes ride waves.
They are committed to disaster unfolding.

Words disconnected?
Fractured storylines, half digested sentences.

It’s how you see it all.